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She flashed a smile, then turned serious. “But just be aware, Dahlia is my bestie, and I can’t help it—I’m super protective of her. This is the first time in ages I’ve seen her so into a guy, so I’m just warning you—you hurt her, I’m talking about her heart now, not her butt,” she added with a grin, “you’ll have me to answer to.”
“Message received,” Hayden said with a smile. “Dahlia’s lucky to have a friend like you watching her back.” He rose to his feet and looked to Dahlia. “You ready? We should head out, too.”
“Sounds good,” Dahlia agreed. “We’ll wait outside with you till your Uber comes,” she said to Naomi. She would tease her later about being just a tad overprotective, though she recognized it came from a good place.
True to his word, Vlad the Uber driver pulled up in a somewhat battered Chevy hatchback a few minutes later, though he parked across the street. Naomi waved frantically at him, and the three of them crossed together to the other side.
Once Naomi was gone, Hayden tucked one of Dahlia’s hands, along with his own, into the pocket of his leather jacket and they moved together down the busy sidewalk. Dahlia felt almost giddy, deeply relieved that what could have been a very uncomfortable conversation had gone so well.
It occurred to her now that her stake hadn’t only been in helping Naomi to “see the light.” On some level, she’d shared Naomi’s confusion and concern. But tonight Hayden had dispelled those worries, once and for all. She was excited now at the prospect of taking their D/s connection further.
Feeling energized and happy, she leaned into Hayden as they made their way toward the gallery in the chilly night air. “Let’s go see some art,” she said.
There were plenty of people already inside the brightly lit gallery when Hayden and Dahlia arrived. A young woman took their coats at the door. There was a long table with already-poured glasses of champagne, along with bottles of Perrier. Hayden snagged a glass of the champagne, while Dahlia chose the sparkling water.
There were about a dozen canvases hung along the walls. They appeared to be paintings of skies, some depicting vivid sunsets in golds and oranges fading into deep blues, others vast vistas in various shades of pale blue fading into pink, some with sparkling stars scattered over velvety blues melting into black. There was something at once vibrant and peaceful about the work that made it difficult to look away.
“Wow,” Dahlia breathed, impressed. “She’s really, really good.”
“She is, right?” Hayden replied. “She’s barely into her twenties, and already making quite a name for herself.” He scanned the room. “There she is.” Hayden gestured toward a corner of the room. “That’s Rowan, over there. The woman with the dark hair.”
Dahlia turned to look. She couldn’t really see much more than the top of the woman’s head, as she was surrounded by a group of people.
“I’ll introduce you once she’s free,” he added. He continued to look around the large space. “I don’t see Eric, but I imagine he’s here somewhere. You’d think he’d personally taught her to paint—he’s that proud of her.”
“Hey there, stranger. I haven’t seen you at the club in a while. How are you?”
They both turned to see a very good-looking guy of around forty with dark, wavy hair and clear gray eyes set in an angular face. He wore a perfectly-tailored charcoal-gray suit with a red silk tie, and held himself with an easy elegance. He had his arm lightly around the waist of a woman in her thirties with vivid green eyes and copper-colored hair that fell in loose curls to her shoulders. She wore a dark green double-breasted jacket with a cream-colored blouse over palazzo pants. Around her neck, she wore a delicate necklace made from woven strands of gold, a single hoop at its center.
Dahlia drew in a sudden breath of recognition, a thrill of excitement moving through her. This was the woman she’d seen at Hayden’s club the one time she’d been allowed to attend. Though the woman had worn an eye mask that covered the top half of her face, Dahlia was certain she was the one who had been tethered to the huge bondage wheel, her nearly bare body gleaming with sweat and stippled with welts. And, yes, this was the man who had held the cane, wielding it to such terrifying, thrilling effect.
Dahlia had been at once fascinated and frightened by the scene. Even now, nearly a month later, it remained a powerful image.
Seeing the couple now sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. Her mouth went suddenly dry, her heart tapping a little too fast. She closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down.
“Cameron, great to see you,” Hayden replied, giving the other man a slap on the back. “And, Jess, you’re looking lovely as always.” He turned to Dahlia, unaware of her sudden discomfiture. “Dahlia, let me introduce my good friend, Cameron Lord, and his wife and sub girl, Jess Cooper.”
