Page 39 of Temptation at Randy's

This had to be the first time she took charge of the conversation.

I liked it.

ELEVEN

Arlene

“You sure about this, babe?”

I huffed. “For the millionth time, yes, Dylan, I’m sure.”

I hated sounding exasperated with him or upset in any way. Truthfully, I knew what he was doing and why he was saying it. But, damn, I was excited about this. I was also the most anxious I’d been in years while checking out my reflection in the mirror, but that was irrelevant.

Was it so hard to get some encouragement around here?

“And you don’t want me to come with?

I chewed on my lip. “Maybe another day?”

If I didn’t completely implode and embarrass myself so much that they banned me for life. Was that a thing? I frowned. I didn’t know.

There were so many things I didn’t know. One thing I did know, though, was that I wanted to have this first experience with Claude.

It wasn’t because they were Claude—of Spades—for most queer people who grew up chronically online. They were just… I didn’t know it was possible to feel the way I felt around them. Sure, I knew a big part of it was hormones, and the thing to expect from a new relationship—one that didn’t even have an official start date, to boot, if it had even started.

Even then, though, I wanted to cherish the feeling, and explore it, then treasure it.

I’d have more than enough time to hang out with Dylan wherever he wanted.

Hell, I’d mention it to Claude, and I could introduce the two of them. I wasn’t completely sure how they’d work together, though. Then again… Claude had been—still was, from the sound of it—best friends with Ben.

Dylan was a walk in the park in comparison.

“Fine,” he groaned. It was good that we had a system—in which I gave him a look and he behaved nicer. I could not deal with his usual sass on a twenty-four-seven basis. “At least text me if anything good happens.”

“Define anything good.” I raised my hand before he could take me up on it. “Actually, please don’t.”

There was a reason why he and I didn’t discuss kinky matters at length. I felt like a baby taking her first steps when we did.

It was different with Claude. Yes, I was still anxious, and jittery, and not really processing the fact that they were interested in me. But I didn’t really have time to think. Or, rather, I had many thoughts, but I didn’t have the room for thoughts about how inexperienced I was.

I liked it that way. Claude hadn’t complained, either. After we spent most of Saturday making out and watching people baking atrocities on TV, we’d been texting every day. Nothing too scandalous, but those texts were more than enough to calm me down.

They really wanted to see where this led. It hadn’t been some fluke or a vivid hallucination because I’d put more hours than usual in the office.

I wanted to see where it led, too. The other night… I still had no words to describe exactly what had happened. It made me feel like an absolute newbie who’d just discovered how mind-blowing sex could be, but… That didn’t change the facts.

“Need help with that?”

Oh. Yeah, I did. I’d forgotten that the reason Dylan was in my room—not that he needed much incentive on any given day—was because of the corset I’d found at the back of my wardrobe.

I’d bought it years ago—everyone went through phases—but it had been relegated to the back of my wardrobe when I realized I did not have the dexterity to actually put it on.

It really fit the vibe of a kink club, though. My plan was to pair it with a soft dress that reminded me of a babydoll set and that I didn’t remember buying, either. I really had gone through a few phases while trying to figure out my own style.

Claude said the club we were going to was more relaxed around dress codes, but I didn’t want to draw too much attention to myself by wearing something too basic. Besides, I kind of wanted to impress them, too. They had this idea that I was sweet and shy, and…

Well, yeah, I was that, but I had layers, too. Or rather, I could have layers. Claude didn’t have to be holding my hand forever and ever—even though the idea of holding hands made me giddy enough that I would not discourage them.

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