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Lights were strung along garden pathways, with signage to guide guests from station to station. In the center of the garden was a rotunda with a white-painted gazebo, delicate wood molding edging its red-shingled crown. As the day had moved from late afternoon toward twilight, musicians in black dresses, or slacks and short-sleeved dress shirts, had arrived and started practicing. The strings and woodwinds added to the dreamlikeambiance, as did the setting sun and evening breeze off the waterway and marsh that flanked Athena’s property.
Skye wished she’d told Tiger to come earlier. Yes, she was busy, in charge of pretty much all the tech needed for tonight’s event, but she would have liked to see him pitching in, helping, as she knew he would. Then she could have known he was here already, where she could perhaps find a few moments to draw him away and…
Act like an idiot over a male she’d never acted like an idiot over before.
The admonishment didn’t stop her from checking the time. He’d texted her his ETA when he’d headed this way, and it just so happened she needed to get some additional things out of her car. Might as well be there when he arrived, if it worked out that way.
As she passed the pavilions again, she saw the artists meeting with Athena. They’d draw lots to see who’d be their canvas, and let the muse inspire them. An injection of unpredictability into the well-planned evening.
While not all of them did body painting or tattoo art as their main medium, they were all accomplished in crafting on human skin. They would start at eight and have until midnight to finish.
Many of them looked like they’d be at home on the set of a car detailing or tattoo reality show, with body art of their own, pierced brows and spiked hair. They wore the clothes they enjoyed creating in, mostly jeans and T-shirts.
She’d been the one who’d suggested to Athena the idea of drawing straws for the “canvases.” She found herself wishing she hadn’t. One woman had long black dyed hair and gothic eye liner that enhanced eyes the color of frosted sea glass. Her lithe body screamed sex, in snug jeans and a crop top that showed her navel ring.
She’d never objected to Tiger being with another Mistress, or having someone else handle him intimately. When their session was over, Skye had no claim on him. But that kiss…she kept thinking about that kiss.
The parking area was a mowed field Athena used to accommodate guests for her larger events. She’d hired valet service for those who didn’t care for the walk, but Skye knew Tiger wouldn’t use valet parking.
As she approached her car, she looked for him. And remembered the first time she’d been out front at Club Progeny when he’d arrived.
It had been worth a long look, a hot guy in denim and leather, pulling in on a mean-looking motorcycle. Watching him take off the helmet, rumple his short hair. Remove his gloves, slap them on his thigh before tucking them away.
She’d been sitting with Vera under Progeny’s covered pergola, a break area for those escaping the heat and noise inside the club. While Vera was chatting with a couple of club members, Skye had been people-watching. Tiger’s arrival had stayed in her memory, ready to be called to mind for the pure pleasure of it, him getting off that bike, muscles flexing, eyes reflecting the serious anticipation of finding a Mistress he could serve for the evening.
Once they started doing more sessions together, she knew the approximate time he came to the club. Which meant she developed a habit of conveniently being out there. It contributed to that simmering anticipation for what the scene would bring.
While no one else seemed to lie in wait for him, anyone with an eye for sexy man candy took a beat to appreciate it.
Where she distinguished herself was in the lack of subtlety. If he saw her, she made a point of letting him see her look. Thoroughly. Her reward was his slow grin, the heat in his eyes, which stoked her own further.
He’d also give her a slight nod of acknowledgement before he strode toward the entrance, where he was inevitably intercepted and accompanied by at least one or two fluttery female subs.
“It just kills them that he’s not a Dom,” Abby had said once, when they were in the parking lot at the same time. She’d given Skye a nudge and a smile. “Like a straight woman feels about a drop-dead gorgeous gay man. All of that alpha male feast, with not even a bite for me.”
“Oh, he’d bite them if they asked,” Skye had responded, using her Betty White voice, a choice that had Abby chuckling. “He appreciates women, Domme or sub, and will flirt enough with either to drive those fantasies.”
But he was careful with the subs. Caring. He understood how they enjoyed touch, that sensual teasing, but also how to restrain it so he wasn’t misleading them. Again, like a Dom. Picking up on what they needed.
“I’ve never seen him switch, though,” Abby said thoughtfully. “Never seen him even try to play the Dom.”
Neither had Skye. He knew what he wanted, what he was, and was clear about it. As a veteran member, he’d been recruited to help conduct the Sub 101 orientation classes. He also routinely mentored others, like Maryshka.
As she rolled through those pleasant thoughts, Skye had been scanning the parking lot, and now she located him. He hadn’t come on his bike, but in a black antique Chevy pickup whose patina had a sheen in the early evening light.
He’d put himself at the back corner of the lot, and seemed to be staring at the dashboard. She could almost feel the struggle going through his mind. Would he get out? Or start the truck up and leave?
When he’d agreed to come, she’d known he’d have a lot ofwhat the hell was I thinkingmoments between then and now. She suspected this might be the first time since the injury he’dattended a social event. But she’d never known Tiger to break a session appointment, never had him back out on anything he’d committed to doing. If he did tonight, it would tell her more about his state of mind.
Should she help him bypass that choice by starting across the parking lot, letting him see her, making it harder to choose that route? Or go back to the hundred things she had to do while he made up his mind?
In theory, he was here as one of the handful of subs she’d recruited with Athena for the event. But in her mind, because of his circumstances, he was here ashersub. They might not be in session, but she knew the signs when a sub needed a Domme’s guidance and that sense of her control. Her ownership, to help remind him of the structure of it and what it provided him.
Five more minutes. She’d let him sort through it. Then she’d act.
Tiger lifted his gaze to the windshield, the marsh view beyond it. He told himself he’d parked toward the back of the lot to protect the truck from being dinged. According to Maryshka, if it ever got a scratch, they might have to rush him to the hospital before his brain exploded.
She was probably right, but the quiet corner also let him think. Settle. On the way here, an ambulance had blasted past him. He’d been on a four-lane, and traffic had been light and spread out, so he wasn’t in its way. However, he didn’t notice its approach until the lights flashed in his mirrors. It had rattled him. Another thing to add to the list of things he had to stay conscious of in a different way.
