I cock my head. “I’ll be your wife.”
“I’ll be yours.” A smile climbs up her lips. “Hey…up until Brody? That might’ve been the best night of my life.”
Screw sugarplum fairies—memories of “shot-skis,” public pillow fights, and Dorian’s low-throated moans dance in my head. “Mine too.” I knock my leg against hers. “What do you want to do today? It’s your day. We’ll do whatever you want.”
She looks at me. “Did you get the Seekers Club notification?”
I nod. “I did.”
She presses her lips together. “I’ve got some family shit. Christmas morning with the nieces and nephews.”
“Aw. That sounds wholesome.”
“Yeah. Then when I’m done being aunt of the year…I want to go to the club and get spanked until I cry. Big, hard, life-ending cries.”
I get it. I do. What we do at the club, the lifestyle—it’s more than sex. It’s more than kink. Sometimes, it’s release. Permission to let go. Permission to scream.
I make a decision. It’s time to break my hiatus. “I’ll come with you tonight.”
She blinks, surprise showing over her expression. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A smile—a real smile—draws across her mouth. “I love you. You know that,right?”
“Love you more.”
We savor our coffees as new flurries start to fall, clinging to our jackets and melting on our skin.
But first—I have a shift at Cheese Louise.
Normally, I might be peeved about working on Christmas day. But today, I’ve got a renewed pep in my step. Besides, it’s only a half-day shift, and Louise and Marvin gave me a generous bonus for doing it. I don’t even mind the rush of people, people who had last-minute change of plans, people who realized that they actually need to feed their guests Christmas morning, and that oh-shit customer who woke up Christmas day and realized he forgot to buy his wife a gift. The day keeps me busy, talking to customers, packing up orders. When there’s a lull in the customers, I open up my phone and check my messages in the Seekers’ Club App. There’s a new message from Dorian.
Dorian:
How’s the patient?
Me:
She’s on the mend.
Dorian:
Good to hear. I owe you a sweater.
“Sweater” I’m pretty sure is officially our code word for “a hard, all-night fuck-fest.” At least, I hope it is. My thumb hovers over the screen and I type out my next words.
Me:
I’m going to the club tonight.
The bubble pops up. He’s typing. Then it vanishes. Finally, he sends:
Dorian:
Have fun.
I frown at his response. Last night was different. Authentic.Real.
