Page 75 of Dance for Me

***

Chapter Thirteen

Bodie didn’t know how he did it, but she ended up staying all the nights for a week with Braun. She was getting too accustomed to that life, a life with him. It wasn’t just the parade of food he not only cooked but prepared himself. It wasn’t the allure of the wonderful, bountiful, generous supply of hot water and his assurance she could shower whenever she wanted, nor did it come down to the fact she wasn’t sure she could ever sleep comfortably again in any other bed but his.

It was the surety she was in love with him.

The past seven days had shown her a world where stress and worry didn’t factor into an equation. She could cuddle with Braun on the couch after a hard day of choreographing and practice and not worry about her parents kicking down the damn door to raid her belongings because they were short on cash.

She’d actually bought a new selection of clothes that actually fit her and that were in current style. Well, Braun had bought them, technically, then refused to take payment from her. So she’d been her usual honest self and slipped the money into his petty cash tin snugged away in a hole in the kitchen wall, hidden by the clock.

He’d thank her one day, when there was an emergency.

Or he’d tan her ass when he found out, whichever came sooner.

She loved walking to and from the club from his house. Thursday night, she’d been tired and cranky after her session with Connie. Braun had walloped her butt for insolence, and then he’d ordered her to go home and go to bed.

She’d obeyed, her cheeks still stinging from the swift thwaps of his hand across her ass, but she hadn’t been unnerved by the dark or the shadows. Going home had felt like just that—going home. It felt right, walking into his house and trudging up the stairs like a naughty little girl, washing her face and brushing her teeth with the new toothbrush he’d gotten her.

It had been the first night she’d crawled into the big bed alone, but she hadn’t been scared. No, she’d just sulked, curling onto her side to ease the mild burn of her spanking. Of course, she’d been asleep when he came to bed, but he’d kissed her awake to let her know she wasn’t by herself, then things had progressed to heat level thirty.

They made love every night without fail. Her repertoire of positions now included cowgirl, doggy, missionary, reverse cowgirl, and spooning. She was quite pleased with herself. Her skills as a submissive were...well, perhaps blossoming wasn’t quite the right word, but she was trying her hardest not to be antagonistic toward her Master when she didn’t understood something he asked of her, or if something scared her.

But now they were back to starting a fresh week, and she had some decisions to make. Wednesday was the first of the month, which meant her last day of leasing the shithole of an apartment was coming up. If she wanted to move in with Braun—which she did, she really did—she needed to make a start on packing up what little she had left that she wanted to keep, and throwing the remaining scraps of her shitty previous existence out into the trash.

She wanted her security deposit back off the shifty, weaselly landlord and that wasn’t possible if she didn’t leave the dank, dark hole in a clean, tidy state. Not that the previous tenants had given her that courtesy before she moved in, mind you, but that was neither here nor there now.

She pulled out of Avalon’s parking lot, incredibly surprised her piece of shit car actually started after a week of sitting in one place like an ugly scrap ornament, sullying Braun’s view from the house.

Her lover wasn’t happy with her going by herself back to the apartment, but after a waterpipe blew in the men’s bathroom, he was stuck trying to fix the damn thing and clean up while waiting for the experts to arrive. Luckily, the club was closed Mondays, so it wasn’t costing members valuable playtime.

It shouldn’t take her more than a couple hours to box up her keeper stuff and bag up the rest. Selling most of her belongings had paid off in more ways than one. Once she handed the key over, she wasn’t looking back, wasn’t planning on coming back. She sure as hell wouldn’t be calling her folks up for Sunday dinner.

She’d left Braun a note with her address on in case he finished the plumbing emergency early and decided to drive through to help, but she’d stated, very plainly, she would be just fine and home in a couple hours ready to embrace this fresh start.

Moving in with him seemed right, it made sense.

Bodie just hoped she didn’t blow it.

While she drove, her thoughts flickered from one Master to another. She thought maybe she and Jasper had a decent foundation beneath them now—not the unstable footings of a submissive afraid of a Dom or her usual aversion to strangers, but something sturdy they could build a friendship on and have it hold strong.

That Sunday night, outside Avalon, Jasper hadn’t lifted a hand toward her. Not in punishment, not in anger, not in retribution—God knew she’d given him ample reason to lace her black and blue. Punching—check. Slapping—check. Swearing—check. Biting—check. Riding him like a demented pony across the parking lot—oh yeah, she’d done that.

The memory of it would be funny one day, maybe fifty years in the future when she was old, gray, and the embarrassments of her younger self paled in comparison to the mischief she got up to in her twilight years.

Right now, it gouged a hole in her gut, even a week after the event. She’d been out of her mind with stress, frantic to escape the secrets she’d spilled and the truths Connie shoved in her face. When Jasper whipped her keys from her hand...well, it flipped her bitch switch and her temper soared.

She felt a bit sick, knowing she’d drawn blood.

And then, after she’d bitten and slapped and cursed the guy like a sailor, he’d been kind to her. So fucking kind. Secure on his lap, she’d felt as safe with him as she did with Braun, and somewhere in those few minutes of comfort, he’d walked through the rubble of her defenses and earned her trust.

Damn those Avalon men, she thought, smiling to herself and drumming her fingers on the wheel. For all their brashness, their maleness and dominance, they were really good guys. It wasn’t surprising Liam fit in so well with them.

---