Page 109 of Naughty Dreams
“It took me a few moments. The disguise works, but I pay closer attention to my clients than most. But that’s also thepoint. You came in here as a client, not as a celebrity. I was respecting that. I do like your songs, very much. There are several on my playlists.”
“You don’t act like most women do around me. Even those who try to act cool about it have some starry-eyedness or tongue tripping. I don’t mind it, not really, but today...just, thanks. And it’s just DJ.”
“Well, I am asupercool shopkeeper, but I can show you why I’m not all agog.” She fluttered her lashes at him. “And it’s not just because you prefer men.”
Before he could decide whether to correct that impression, she waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, you’re bisexual, but right now you’re homo-monogamous.”
She tilted her head toward a curtain behind her. “My storage area connects to the place next door. Follow me.”
He was cautious of such tactics, but, going with his hopefully not off-kilter gut, he came around the counter. When she pushed back the curtain, he curled his larger hand over the fabric, just above hers, holding it for her to pass through. She smiled, appreciating the gentlemanly gesture.
Safety lights helped him follow the sway of her shapely hips, but she still offered a caution. “Stay to the middle of the aisle so you don’t catch your feet on anything sticking out from the bottom shelves. Did you notice the store next to me?”
“Hardware. Free pie on Mondays, while it lasts. Best coffee for fifty cents a cup.” If country was his jam, he could write some good lyrics. The store had been called A Different Time. The hand-carved golden pine sign over the blue tin roof awning had drawn his attention when they passed it.
The plywood shelves on either side of him had some open boxes, revealing lingerie in a variety of colors and touchable fabrics, electronic sex toys and erotic films. Those boxes were followed by spools of ropes and chains, then crates containingnails, power tools, and horse wormer. When she saw him note the ropes and chains, she winked at him.
“On some things, Logan and I can share the costs. The hardware store is my husband’s.”
His grin took him by surprise. He would have said the ability to smile that spontaneously had left him forever.
My life is over.
Get over yourself.
It’s over when I say it’s over.
Would he assign that lyric to the gods, or to Roy?
The door approaching on the right, labeled A Different Time in vinyl block lettering, was an employee access to the hardware store. Across the hall was another door, partially open.
“Troy, his assistant manager, is running the store today, because Logan is finishing up a project for a client.” Madison looked over her shoulder, her brown hair sliding across the lavender fabric of the blouse. The mirrors held by the embroidery glittered in the dim lights.
“We’ll just take a quick glimpse without disturbing him,” she whispered. After she peeked into the room, she stepped back and gestured DJ forward.
DJ saw an extensive woodworking shop, and a man in the center of it. He squatted on the heels of his thick-soled work shoes as he attached decorative trim to a spanking bench, with a person-sized cage built beneath it.
The bench and cage frame were made of wood, while the bars were black metal, fired in a matching serpentine shape and spaced to allow a hand to push between them. Or another appendage, if the Master or Mistress ordered it to be presentedfor their inspection, touch or mouth. Or to be punished. DJ’s hand tightened on the door frame.
The decorative wood trim had been painted purple, black and silver. The bottom trim for the cage was also stamped with tiny blackfleur de lis. The bench cushion was a sleek and supple black vinyl.
DJ’s attention slid from the equipment to the man himself, as easy as a change in sexual position, seeking more of the same pleasure.
Wide, powerful shoulders, a tapered waist. When he straightened to lean over the top of the bench and run a hand along its edge, testing for smoothness, every movement required a shift of buttock, flex of shoulder and ripple of muscle across his back.
His denim-covered ass was like the candy shop display that pulled someone off the street and right into the store, no matter what they told themselves about their diet or too much sugar. Nothing that looked like that could be bad for you. Or it was the right kind of bad.
His hands applied care, respect and strength in equal measure to his craft. His lips were firm and set, his brown eyes focused on what he was doing. It reminded DJ of what Roy had so unexpectedly offered when DJ asked him if he liked watching him play the guitar.
Your focus…it’s distracting.
Two words with a hundred words of erotic meaning behind them. For the first time in weeks, his fingers felt the urge to distract Roy just that way. Especially when he thought about what Roy had also said, about DJ applying that dexterity and intensity to his Master’s cock.
“Logan?” he whispered to Madison, unnecessarily.
The man was sharp-eared. He glanced over his shoulder. Logan’s brown hair framed a strong face with precisecheekbones. Wisps of that silky mane feathered over his high forehead. His brow lifted when he saw DJ, but his gaze narrowed on Madison.
“What mischief are you up to, woman?”
