Mirabelle, a friend but also a Mistress, narrowed her gaze sharply.
“You were the one who advised I be cautious,” she said in a tone as sharp as her gaze, a tone Mira was usually incapable of when speaking with a friend.
In fact, a tone she was usually incapable of using outside the occasions she’d need to use it in a scene.
A tone she took that shared with Amélie just how deeply rooted her feelings were, feelings that Mirabelle was assuming were unreciprocated.
“And now I’m the one who’s wondering if you’re doing this for the sole purpose of it getting back to Trey so you can see if he’s jealous,” Amélie remarked with care.
“You’re the reigning Domme at the Honey, Amélie, and respect for that. You know you have that from me and everybody. But this isn’t my first time doing this. I’ve been around the block.”
“I know that,” Amélie said calmingly. “But just to ask, this block you’ve been around, particularly with Trey, is he serving you outside the club?”
“You know I’d tell you if we did my house, his, or had a play weekend away.”
“What I mean is, are you giving him instructions to carry out when you’re not here?”
She looked to her glass. “Yes.” She looked back to Amélie. “But you know that doesn’t mean dick. Just that he likes serving me.”
“It’s eking into life, chérie,” Amélie pointed out, trying not to think about how she felt about Olivier allowing the same thing and so soon in their play. But she finished pointing out what was in most cases quite true. “So it often can mean a great deal.”
“It’s still part of the game,” Mirabelle made her own very good point.
Amélie nodded, conceding it.
Then she made a very difficult decision but it was one that had to be made.
As Mira could often come under the spell of her subs, the lovely Mira could also often do things that were rash.
They weren’t always destructive.
But they were sometimes thoughtless.
And unhealthy.
An odd trait in a Mistress and one that she strictly controlled in a playroom, which made Amélie wonder if it was one of the reasons that drove her to a playroom.
“Can I make a request?”
“Sure,” Mirabelle replied.
“Please don’t make a choice of someone to take back to the rooms until I’ve taken care of Olivier and returned to you so we can talk some more.”
The stubborn set of Mirabelle’s face softened. “My lovely, it’s sweet you want to look out for me but I’m not going to wait for hours while you—”
“What I have planned for tonight”—or what she’d just changed her plans to for that night—“for right now won’t take long.”
Mistaking her, Mirabelle grinned.
“Go take care of that stallion. I’ll be here.” She lifted her hand when Amélie opened her mouth to speak. “And I won’t choose a playmate until you get back.”
“Thank you, Mira.”
“No worries, Amélie.” As Amélie slid out of the booth, Mirabelle finished, “Enjoy.”
“Oh, I will, darling,” she murmured, casting a look that made her friend laugh softly then turning her attention to the room.
She caught Olivier’s eye momentarily but she didn’t need to check to see if he was watching. He’d returned to the table as commanded but now his body was at an angle so he could see her and she barely took her first step before he lifted his beer to down it.
God, she could climax just watching him drink.
She’d reserved a different room that night, and feeling Olivier fall behind her close to her heels, after the annoying delay of needing to step aside so he’d open the door to the playrooms for her, she led him right to it.
The light in the playroom could only be seen at the edges of the dark blinds that had been let down.
She went to the door and put her hand on the handle, only to hear Olivier’s quiet rumble of, “New digs.”
She looked over her shoulder at him, not controlling the small smile that played at her lips, openly showing him her amusement at his terminology.
But she did hide the disappointment that the reasons behind her choice of this room would not be availed that night.
“Indeed,” she replied.
She pushed in, flipping the switch to declare occupancy, and he came with her.
He closed the door and stood at it because he had nowhere to go. She had only taken two steps in.
His eyes quickly took in the room and the variety of complicated apparatus. She saw disquiet enter them along with a tightening of his jaw as well as his entire frame.
Fear and excitement.
Oh, how she wished she could have carried out what she’d planned this evening.
However, friends making bad decisions you might be able to do something about before they brought those decisions to fruition always took precedence.
“Do not move from there, Olivier,” she ordered.
His focus cut back to her as she negated the space between them then lifted her hands to pull the suit jacket off his shoulders.
He drew his arms back for it to fall down and she felt the quickening between her legs just at that.
Yes, he was affecting her. Yes, he was affecting her intensely.
But she had no idea at this early point in their play whether to guard against it or let it fly.
Now was not the time to make that decision. Now she needed to take care of her steed and then look after her friend.