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His expression eased, enough to put a familiar light in his eyes, a reassuring hint of himself. “Just in case, want to help supervise that shower? Ow…”
He caught her hand as she pinched his nipple through his shirt with sharp nails. Though she kept them short for her computer work, she still knew how to use them. He didn’t pull away, taking the pain as his due. When she stepped back, smoothing her hand over the front of his shirt, he gave her a look that struggled between arousal and total churning uncertainty.
She resisted the urge to prolong her visit. Instead, she showed him another note. “I have to get back to work.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” He glanced at the disrupted desk, the spattered wall. “Uh…thanks for the coffee.”
That made her smile. He gave her a wry one in return and escorted her to the propped open side door. Once there, she paused to type another message.
He squinted against the sunlight as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited her out. She showed him the screen.
“I’ll text you the event details. By the way, when you’re fixing an engine, do you ignore the tools that will help you get it running right again?”
His brow furrowed. “Not usually, no.”
She nodded. Typed the follow up. “You should get that stuff out of the drawer and read through it.”
He eyed her. “Should I consider that a command?”
This time, he wasn’t looking for her to take his choices away. He was challenging her. So leaning in, Skye curled her fingers over his crossed forearms and tapped his chest.
You bet your fine ass, she mouthed.
Then she made herself get in her car and drive away.
CHAPTER FOUR
The first time Skye had visited the vast estate that Athena Rousseau called home, it had been for a barbecue and pool party. Though TRA had a business relationship with Athena, who had operated a global manufacturing corporation with her late husband, it was the connection to her current husband that had resulted in that invitation.
Dale Rousseau, a retired Navy SEAL, had once been Lawrence’s team leader. He was also a Dom. When Ros and Lawrence became a couple, Ros and the rest of her executive team received invites to the intimate get-together.
Dale and Athena preferred the smaller venue of Club Release, but Dale was an accomplished rope rigger and had been a practicing Dom most of his adult life. He was routinely recruited for demos and workshops in club settings, including Progeny.
At the barbecue, Dale had been relaxed enough to wear shorts and reveal he was a below-knee amputee. In his normal attire of jeans, wearing his prosthetic, it was often missed.
“Don’t let him fool you,” Lawrence had noted dryly. “He can deliver a one-legged ass kicking, no problem at all.”
Athena had served as her late husband’s Mistress during their years together, with “served” being the operative word. She’d recognized her submissive side long before he passed, and providing Roy a Mistress had been part of her loving service to him. Then her path crossed Dale’s. She’d eventually embraced him as Masterandhusband.
Yet when it came to running a business or organizing a charity event, Athena donned a general’s hat and made it all come together with true Southern steel magnolia charm.
The weather had cooperated, so the artist stations were spread throughout her gardens. Plan B had been to use her pool house, pavilion tents, and the solarium. Now those would remain social and refreshment areas for the guests. Tables under the pavilion tents were being loaded up with heavy hors d’oeuvres, while the pool area had the open bar.
The pool was populated by floating tea lights…and merpeople. Skye had paused to watch them doing sinuous dances around one another. Whatever adhesive and movie magic was making them look like actual mermaids and mermen was impressive, as was their ability to swim like one might imagine a merperson swimming. A chance to swim in the pool with them was one of tonight’s perks.
Skye wouldn’t mind swimming with the mermaids.
She stopped by the solarium to check the projection equipment for the big screen set up there. It would be showing a two-hour montage of sensual images on a loop, the score for it composed by Imagine Dragons. The movie had been provided by well-known erotic film producer Tyler Winterman. It was an exclusive viewing, not scheduled for public release until next year.
She moved on to the gardens. The guests who would be attending had paid ten thousand dollars a ticket to see acclaimed artists create masterpieces in front of them. Not on canvas,but on human flesh. Which was why dungeon masters from Club More and Progeny had been recruited to be here as well. They’d safeguard the fifteen volunteers, some submissives, some models from local art schools, who’d be positioned on the platforms. Plus the merpeople.
Skye trusted the DMs, but she’d keep Tiger in sight as much as she could. Her concerns for him weren’t about some enthusiastic art patron trying to grope him before a DM could intervene.
Currently a small army was in the gardens. One battalion handled the setup for the stations, which included lighting for the raised platforms where the artists would work, and side tables stocked with their preferred materials. A catering brigade arranged the viewing chairs and cloth-covered high-tops as a resting place for drink glasses and hors d’oeuvres plates.
Another type of artist would be active in the back gardens. Three junk cars had been positioned among a grove of crepe myrtles and azaleas. Instead of working on flesh, these creators would work on metal. The results would be transported to the lobbies of major corporate centers in the city, each having contributed sizeable donations for the three benefitting charities.
That had been thanks to TRA’s marketing help, targeted toward big donors like those. Even the giveaways and swag bag contents each attendee would carry home, valued at five hundred dollars, were mostly donated items.
