Page 21 of Submissive Lies

-Yeah, it better not be. Need I remind you that you and Thomas are still in a relationship. No matter what you may be thinking lately. Or are you going to pull a Ben here?-

Fuck. Off. It is not like that. Give it a rest!

It was a distraction throughout the morning. I tried not to stare, but I caught myself watching him, tracking his movements. At one point he came up, a smile on his face, and I felt that tingle run up my spine again. It had barely run its course when I pushed back and pushed back hard.

“Everything looking good so far, Ms. Boyd?”

“Yes, absolutely. And, please, call me Jen.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Of course!”

“Well, my dad raised me to always address someone by their last name until given permission to do otherwise. Sir and ma’am, that sort of thing.”

“I know exactly what you mean. My dad was the same way.” I gave him a warm smile, enjoying the idea we shared something in common.

He gave me a boyish grin in return, and then headed back to resume working with the crew.

Since Steve had left me feeling at ease with how he was handling the install, that put me in a somewhat interesting position. I had less to do now than I normally did during the exhibit set up. I wasn’t having to check to make sure no mistakes were being made or double-check to make sure my directions were being followed. This allowed me the luxury to continue doing what I’d been doing earlier.

Watch him.

-Seriously, this is messed up.-

I’m just looking. There’s no harm in it. What’s the old saying? He’s easy on the eyes.

-I swear I can’t believe I’m you sometimes…-

I felt more than a little guilty for ogling Steve. No question. But that wasn’t stopping me from doing it. I was having no problem justifying it either. It wasn’t as if I were going to pursue anything with him. Under different circumstances, maybe. But not right now. I was in a relationship. And even if I was having doubts about Thomas and I, that did not mean I planned to go chasing after this guy. What I was doing was nothing more than some harmless guy-watching. That was it. Just me covertly watching a good-looking man who just happened to be working in my booth. It wasn’t as if I was wolf-whistling him or slapping him on his sculpted ass. I was just observing him. Making sure he was doing his job.

Yeah, that was it. I was being a conscientious manager. Hell, I deserved a gold star!

My justifications may have sounded like bullshit even to me, but the level of self-confidence and poise he carried himself with provoked a response. He was assertive and charming, self-assured without being bullish. I was determined, however, that I would not let his attributes, no matter how positive, affect my judgement any further than simply watching him. Outwardly I was keeping everything professional between us. So why shouldn’t I enjoy the view as much as propriety and common sense allowed? Men did it all the time. Why not me?

As the morning went on, there were two additional details about Mr. Friess I discovered, both in the form of tattoos. The first peeked out from under the bottom edge of his shirtsleeve. It was the Marine Corps emblem with the words SEMPER FI inked in below that. Given my military upbringing, the symbol was easy to recognize. Seeing it confirmed my earlier suspicion. He had served in the military and now I was certain which branch it had been.

The other was more subtle. It was a smaller tattoo on his wrist. At first glance it looked like it might be a Celtic rune of some sort, or perhaps a type of Taoist symbol. Since he was constantly moving around within the exhibit, it was hard to see. However, at one point I caught a good glimpse of it. When I did, my stomach did a little flip.

It looked like a triskelion.

Shit.

For someone outside the BDSM community that probably meant nothing in particular. Just another tattoo design that looked impressive. For someone experienced in the lifestyle, the emblem—three yin-yang shapes chasing each other within a circle—held much greater symbolism. In general it showed to others that the person wearing it was a fellow traveler. Someone practicing their own BDSM dynamic. I had seen it before. Many times.

Almost immediately I began second-guessing myself. It was hard to see it with complete clarity. Maybe it wasn’t what I thought it was. Maybe he didn’t know what the symbol meant and had just had it inked on himself because he thought it looked cool.

Yeah. That’s what it has to be…

It wasn’t as if I could—or would—call Steve over and say, ‘Hey! Let me look at the tattoo you have on your wrist!’ As the morning went on, I kept trying to steal a glimpse of it every chance I got, looking to convince myself one way or the other of what I thought I’d seen. It remained elusive, however, and I was no more certain of what it was as the lunch break approached than I had been when I’d first noticed it. As we came up on the noon hour I saw Steve walking across the booth towards me. I tried not to stare at his wrist as he approached the table, a perturbed look on his face.

“Ms. Boy—Jen, we have a small problem.”

I took a deep breath. Let it out. Here we go. “And that is?”

“Here, let me show you.” Steve came around the edge of the table, and bent over, flipping through my drawing package. He pulled out the ground plan and electrical layout drawings. Laying down the ground plan first, he circled a spot on the paper.

“Right here is where we need to put down the baseplate for your main tower.” He flipped to the electrical layout. “And here is where your electrical drawing says we’re supposed to pull power into the tower for all the A/V and lighting.” He pointed to a spot on that drawing.

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