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Their gazes met, held. She should look away. She should be worried or at least chagrined that he caught her doing something she shouldn’t. Instead, she held his gaze and gave a slight nod. An acknowledgment that the question he just asked was one she herself had been wondering about.
Benson didn’t react, his face a hard mask.
She looked away, studying her upturned palms, only then noticing that she’d curled her fingers into fists. She loosened her grip.
“Taking the coward’s way out?” Mikel sounded disappointed. “I expect better, from both of you.”
“You want to force us to scene together. And if we don’t give in, you want to force us to choose which one of us gives up their membership.”
“The last thing we want is for you—either of you—to leave. Both of you have come so far on your journey.”
Benson snorted, a dismissive sound. Mal’s shoulder muscles knotted.
“Malvia, join our conversation,” Master Mikel ordered.
She wanted to refuse the order, to let her submission serve as a blanket she could pull over her head in order to hide from this conversation.
She hesitated long enough that Mikel cleared his throat in warning.
“I’m sorry, Master Mikel.” Mal dropped out of her formal kneeling position and swiveled to face them. Curling her legs to one side, she leaned on one hand. The chain between her breasts dangled and swung, making her aware of how little she wore. A short, vinyl skirt barely covered her ass when standing, but did a good job hiding her sex while she was sitting. Rather than skin-tight, this one was full, a circle-style cut made of felt-backed vinyl stiff enough that it fit almost like a tutu…a black, shiny tutu.
She’d selected this because she knew from experience that Mikel would keep her on her knees. Since her own preference was legs spread when kneeling—meaning anything tight would just roll up and turn into a large rubber band around her waist—she’d opted for this. Now she was glad of it. She had no problem with her body, but sitting on the floor in a position where Benson could see her pussy was more than she thought she could handle right now.
She reached up, pulling her hair forward over her shoulder and twirling it into a tail, a nervous habit she’d never been able to break, which was why she almost never wore her hair down.
She curved her lips into a forced smile, glancing between them. “What are we talking about?”
Mikel grinned, his delight clear. Benson had his hand on his chin, two fingers against his lips. His lowered brows, and room lights that hit at just the wrong angle, cast most of his face into a slight shadow, hiding the nuances of his expression.
“We’re talking about avoidance.” Mikel gestured, taking in both her and Benson.
“It was a conscious choice,” she said. “Avoidance implies an unwillingness to deal with something. That’s not the case. We choose to give one another space.”
“Is that what happened?” Benson’s fingers muffled his words.
“Don’t.”
She hadn’t met meant to snap, but by God, he could make her angry faster than almost anyone else on the earth. He’d also been the one to make her feel things—intense things—no one else before or since had managed. He could elicit responses from her.
Not just body, but mind and soul.
It was why she’d wanted—asked for—more, more, and more. “More” was what had driven them apart.
“Was that an order?” Benson’s question was silky with menace.
Mal closed her eyes, willing herself to treat this as an academic discussion, one meant to be devoid of feeling.
She wouldn’t hide whatever reaction she had, but she could will herself to think of this as a negotiation or debate rather than a conversation. Remove the emotion from it.
It didn’t work. Her gut was churning.
She drew in a deep breath, letting it out as a low soft moan. Her body felt warm and heavy and also submissive-soft in reaction to his words.
His tone made the question a threat and a promise. A promise to make her behave, to make her feel things, to push her, to use her in the way she needed.
“Quite a reaction,” Mikel said, his voice unusually neutral.
“Lack of reaction was never our problem,” she murmured softly.
