Page 53 of The Cartographer

Ah. So that’s what he was concerned about. “I wasn’t planning on it. Why? Is that something that interests you?”

He tugs at his collar again, and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Maybe.”

“By that you mean ‘yes’ but it makes you uncomfortable to say so?” There’s a tic in his jaw that says I hit the bullseye. Interesting. “That could be arranged, although this isn’t really the right crowd. Constance and Cris are both good enough to top almost anyone, but they both prefer women for kink. And for sex, for that matter.”

“What am I supposed to call them?”

“At dinner? First names are fine; you’ll be introduced. Would you like to go by Hart, Allie, or something else?”

He hesitates, and though it could be for myriad reasons, it makes me…happy. He didn’t reflexively say Hart. Which means he thinks enough of me and my assurances he might consider these strangers his friends, sight unseen, because my word is enough.

A vision of the six of us laughing around a dining table comes into my head, and suddenly there are few things I want more in this world. Of course I’ve been to these dinners and other events with endless permutations of people. Constance and India have been the most frequent faces, and since Glory arrived on the scene, her compact body’s been bouncing in a seat next to Constance. In my mental map, once Hunter had vacated the seat next to India—or had rather been shoved out of it—it had been noticeably empty until Cris filled it.

Matthew is generally my companion of choice, but I’ve never allowed myself that same sense of permanence as India and Constance have with their partners. So aside from polite interest in making sure this evening isn’t an incredibly awkward affair and that conversation flows, I should keep out of my mind how I think Allie will fit in with the rest of the crew. How he’ll enjoy Glory’s boundless enthusiasm and gentle teasing, how I’m guessing he and Constance will be able to talk about better ways for HUD to support current and former military personnel, and how if he gets a taste of Cris’s cooking, he’ll never leave me. We’ll see how he does with India. She can be an acquired taste—one some people never acquire.

“Allie’s fine.”

Though on the inside I’m breaking into a goofy grin, I keep my neutral expression on the outside because it would have been totally fine for him to say Hart. I wouldn’t have been disappointed. Not even a little bit. Because this is temporary. As long as Allie’s my charge, I’ll care for him the best way I know how, and hopefully by the time he leaves, he’ll be in a position to know what to look for in his next partner. That will be thanks enough.

“And for later?” I leave the “during playtime” left unsaid, because his wide open, unblinking eyes tell me he knows exactly what I mean. His teeth sink into his bottom lip briefly before he makes his call.

“Would it be a dick move to say Allie?”

“Not at all.”

“Am I supposed to be all ma’am and sir and shit?”

I want to laugh, but I swallow it. He can speak to me like this, but I don’t necessarily want to encourage it. Not setting a good example for the next Dominant he might encounter.

“You’ll need to be respectful, of course, but you haven’t signed on to any protocols with anyone but me. Neither Cris nor Constance stand much on ceremony, either.” One of the reasons we get along so well, to be honest. I can see the pleasure to be gleaned in the hard lines and strict demands of formal protocol, and I’m happy to teach it, but it’s not my personal hot spot. “India will be addressing us as ‘sir’ and ‘mistress.’ Glory will be calling me ‘sir’ and Constance ‘mistress.’ I’m not sure how she’ll address Cris. They haven’t spent a great deal of time together. It’s all negotiated, nothing’s set in stone.”

“They’re all going to play?”

“Maybe. I can’t say for sure.”

“Will you?”

“You mean with someone other than you?”

He nods, and a small line forms between his brows.

“I might. Unless you don’t want me to. Then I wouldn’t.”

“Just like that?”

His tone is suspicious, and I don’t like it at all. I take his shoulders in my hands again and squeeze, digging the tips of my fingers into his flesh, seeking out nerves to inflict a sensation that will make him gasp. I’m met with success. “Since when have I ignored a request of yours outside of a scene where that was part of the game? Ever?”

He squirms in my grip, but I don’t let go. If anything, his movement is inflicting more pain. He doesn’t stop, I’m guessing because he’s finding pleasure and comfort in the feeling. “Never, sir.”

“I’m not going to start now. You can decide after you’ve met them if you want, and you can always change your mind. Rule number one, Hart.” I release him and smooth the fabric I’ve mussed. Can’t have him showing up all wrinkled. We’ll save the disheveling for later. For now, I know he’ll feel better, more at ease, if he looks his best. “You never have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

*

We arrive atthe restaurant and are promptly escorted to the private dining room in the back. I don’t always dine privately, but sometimes it’s nice to be able to discuss your full range of interests and I’ve never felt truly comfortable doing that in public spaces. Mostly because I don’t care to make innocent bystanders any less innocent.

My foot has barely crossed the threshold when I’m assaulted by a brightly colored bouncy ball. Glory’s flung herself at me, her plump arms circled tight around my neck and her legs wrapped tight around my hips. “Rey! I missed you!”

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