“No, but thanks.” He guided Dana over the threshold, met Rachel’s gaze. “I’ll come back for her when she gets out of line. Which will probably be about the time I get to the car.”
“Go away, Cujo.” Dana waved her cane in his direction. “Go maul a few preschoolers. I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave.”
Max gave Rachel another smile. His gaze drifted briefly over the loose fit of the robe, the collar it revealed. Was it her imagination, or did he linger on her cleavage, tracking that tempting silver chain until it disappeared into unseen regions? He didn’t make it overt or inappropriate. Two days ago she might not even have registered such a quick flash, but her ramped-up hormones were honed to any evidence of male awareness.
On her side of things, now she couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulders filled out his chauffeur’s uniform or wonder what his lower torso might look like without the drape of the coat hiding it. Her cheeks flushed as he caught her gaze on its downward sweep, but he simply gave her a nod and turned back toward the stairwell. “Lock the door,” he called over his shoulder.
After Rachel drew Dana in and closed the door, the black woman made a face. “He’s such a worrywart. Believe me, he’s standing on the stairwell listening. And he’s like one of those trick ponies that can count. If you slide the deadbolt in and out really fast, like twenty times, he’ll still know if you stopped on locked or unlocked. He’ll come back if it’s not locked.”
Rachel gave her a glance as she shot the deadbolt in place with a definitive thud. “That sounds like the voice of experience.”
Dana grinned. “A girl has to get her fun where she can. The blindness gig comes with exceptional hearing, so sometimes I wait until he’s almost walked back up to the door to turn it into the locked position that last time. Then, when he’s turned around and gone about five steps away, I might slide it back out again, to keep him on his toes.”
“Poor Max.” Rachel shook her head. Then she couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh Dana, I think I really needed you today.” She hugged the other woman, a suitable gesture for the occasion, but as the woman’s body made contact with hers, Rachel realized body contact might have been a mistake. Dana wore a form-fitting stylish tee over her snug jeans, and even through the terrycloth, Rachel was hyper aware of the curve of her small breasts, the slope of the spine beneath her palms, the scent of her skin. She found herself holding on a little longer, a little closer, than what was expected for a friendly hug.
She wasn’t into women, but with her erotic awareness stoked to simmering, the ability to touch was a genderless craving. Though the man she wanted with every ounce of her aroused body was Jon, it was the same reason she’d noticed every single one of Max’s pleasing features.
It was kind of scary to realize the only thing keeping her lust contained was that collar, not social constraints. Otherwise she might have given Max an equally enthusiastic hug, with far more wandering hands. She was on the verge of embarrassing herself and couldn’t seem to care.
Dana seemed to pick up on it, because she ran her own palms over Rachel’s back, dropped them down to catch her fingers in the robe’s front tie and tugged on it a little, letting the ends slip through her fingers before she at last stepped back. “They get you pretty wound up, don’t they?”
“Is it that obvious?” Rachel thought about Peter yesterday, the way he’d touched her. The way Lucas had, as he eased her farther into the office. A remarkable bond seemed to exist between the K&A men. And that would likely include the women. How much did Dana know? Rachel wasn’t sure if it would bother her on a normal day. All she knew right now was it didn’t.
“Not too obvious.” Dana flashed a grin, underscoring the obvious lie. Then she sobered. “Jon’s protective. They all are. He wanted me to come here, spend the day with you, if you’d like that. He hates that he has to be away from you right now.”
“Well, that’s just silly. I mean, we… It’s not that we’re strangers, but we have just started…whatever this is. Right?”
“Hmm.” Dana set aside the cane. When she reached up toward Rachel’s face with both hands, Rachel stilled, not sure what she was about. The woman laid her palms on Rachel’s cheeks, slim fingers stroking to her jaw, then down farther. Rachel drew in a breath, her heart thudding as Dana investigated the collar, stepping closer to feel the lock on the back of it. Her breasts, clad in the soft T-shirt, brushed Rachel’s. Even through terrycloth, the contact made her pulse thud. What made it worse or better, depending on her perspective, was that as Dana investigated, Rachel felt the black woman’s nipples tighten. It aroused Dana, knowing Rachel was collared. Then she cupped Rachel’s skull, lifted onto her toes and put her mouth on Rachel’s parted lips.
Blessed God and Goddess. Again—not into women—but it didn’t matter. It was sexual contact, and her body was ravenous for any kind of touch that wasn’t her own. In some way too primeval to explain in civilized company, it gave them a provocative bond, that this woman also called her man Master, submitted to his ownership. Rachel had imagined Peter carrying out his threats, Dana bent over his knee, that large hand smacking her bare buttocks, giving them a deep rose tinge under the brown pigment. And of course from there it wasn’t much of a leap to remember Jon’s use of that ruler on her own still-sore ass. Dana’s kiss was like an initiation, a welcome. A reassurance that Rachel wasn’t alone on this path.
Rachel dove hard and deep into that kiss, making a whimper in her throat as she gripped Dana’s waist. Dana brushed her hands aside, though, and slipped the robe tie. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief as the garment was pushed off her shoulders, freeing her body once more. Then Dana explored, following the chain down from Rachel’s throat, between her breasts and over her abdomen. She stopped short of her *, following the chain around to the back and then smoothing her graceful hands over Rachel’s buttocks, her knuckles trailing across skin. Interestingly, though Rachel quivered and jerked from the near misses around cunt and nipples, Dana was obviously careful to offer no direct touches there. Eventually, her hands came back to claim Rachel’s, fingers tangled and holding together.
When the other woman at last broke the kiss, stepped back, Rachel stared at her in amazement. Dana’s mouth was wet with hers, her brown eyes considering, a secretive but rueful smile playing around her lips. “That bastard. No wonder he wanted me to come spend time with you. You’d jump a teenage Boy Scout selling popcorn tins right now. It would serve Jon right if I let you do it. Or called Max back up here and let him take full advantage of it, though he probably values his job and his life more than that.”
Rachel imagined the slimmer, less physically imposing Jon against Max, but then she remembered that look he’d had when his gaze fell on the bruise on her cheek. No, it was probably best not to make any assumptions about the unpredictable, fascinating man who’d invaded her life over the past couple days.
“I was thinking I could have checked out his ass more without that coat he was wearing,” she managed weakly. “It covers a lot.”
“Trust me, you could bounce a quarter off Max’s ass. The advantage of being blind.” Dana affected an exaggerated Southern belle accent. “Sometimes I can’t help stumblin’, now can I? I just have t’grab onto the person next to me before I fall. And I can’t see where I’m grabbin’, darlin’, now can I?” She gave Rachel a broad wink and a grin. “Peter gave me a real walloping for that one, because Max was such a tattletale. But I wasn’t sorry.”