Fearless (Elite Doms of Washington Book 5) Page 6

  A soft chime rang, announcing dinner was about to be served, which shook his reverie.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me, gentleman, I’m afraid I can’t stay for dinner. I have to meet my fiancé.” Jonathan placed his empty glass on the mantle and strode toward Sarah, ending Steffan’s plan to intercept her before dinner started.

  9

  “Where’s Christiana?” Sarah presented her cheek to Jonathan for the obligatory DC peck.

  “Working. I’m picking her up soon. I wanted to thank you again for handling her wedding dress and our earlier chat.”

  “Helping her is a joy to me, and, when it comes to my mother, Christiana should become unreachable. It’s what I do.”

  “Her new job means her cell phone is within arm’s length at all times.”

  “Consider what I said. Elope.”

  “You may be the only person on earth who can tell me what to do.” He chuckled softly.

  “Because you know I’m right?”

  “Because I know you have my best interests at heart. Give my love to Yvette. I’m not staying for dinner.” He glanced toward Steffan who cleaved a path through the dining room. Jonathan leaned down to her. “He can’t take his eyes off you.”

  She rolled her eyes at him and watched his broad back disappear through the doorway. When she turned, she came face-to-face with Steffan wearing yet another expensively-cut, blue suit. “May I escort you to your seat?”

  “You may.”

  “You didn’t return my call.”

  “I’ve been busy. It seems you have been, as well.”

  Steffan led her to her seat, sandwiched between Laurent on her right and an old friend, Michael Standish on her left. He pulled out her chair and leaned down to her ear. “Would you have returned a call two years ago?”

  “We will never know, will we?” She scooted her own chair in. “Hello, Michael.”

  Steffan chuckled lightly. She lost Michael’s greeting, distracted by the feeling of Steffan’s breath in her hair.

  Laurent slipped into the seat on her other side, and she turned to him.

  “It’s good to see you, Laurent.”

  “You, as well.”

  “I trust you haven’t found DC too boring over the last few days?”

  “With the amount of renovation required for one newly-acquired townhouse, I don’t think ‘bored’ is going to be possible,” he said and glanced at Steffan, who elegantly folded his tall frame into the too-tight space across the table from her—another signature move of Yvette ensuring shoulder-to-shoulder intimacy. That navy fabric certainly brought out his blue eyes, something he probably knew and planned.

  “Alexander has quite an interest in home renovations,” she said. “He’d be delighted to counsel you.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of bothering Ma—Mr. Rockingham.” Had Laurent caught himself from saying Master? That moniker definitely would have piqued curiosity here.

  “Have you met Alexander yet?”

  “Not formally. I would love to be introduced to him—I think,” he added with a laughing frown.

  She understood his hesitation. Many submissives found Alexander awe-inspiring.

  “I have lunch with him tomorrow,” Steffan interjected, snapping his napkin into place.

  “Bring your appetite. Alexander enjoys large lunches.”

  “My appetite has never been a problem.” He brought his wine glass to his lips, those deep blue eyes nailed on hers.

  “Well, I understand we’re having surf and turf tonight,” Michael said.

  “Something for everyone,” Sarah said.

  “Except Laurent,” Steffan said.

  “Vegetarian?”

  “No, just particular …” Steffan answered for him.

  “Steffan is a great cook,” Laurent explained. “Do you like Italian? He makes his own pasta. I think you’d enjoy it.”

  “And what do you enjoy, Laurent?”

  He leaned closer to her. “I’d enjoy you.” His voice was too soft to be heard by Michael who’d moved on to the woman to his left.

  “Flirt.” She laughed.

  When Laurent cast his eyes downward, a half smile formed on her lips. A blush of pink traveled up his beautiful neck. So sweet. Perhaps Yvette was right. A little harmless teasing never hurt anyone, and his attentions were so … warming.

  “I heard you’re trying to raise funds for digging wells in developing countries.” Mrs. Darden sat on Steffan’s left and by the size of her cat-like smile was quite happy with the seating arrangement. She always liked to be in the know when new people came to town.

  “Yes, that’s one project,” he said. “And Laurent is getting his degree in physical therapy.”

  “Good heavens. You’ll have to touch people, dear.” She brought a hand to her breast, aghast as she looked at Laurent.

  “That’s what I hear,” Laurent murmured.

  “You’ll help a great number of people, Laurent.” Sarah winked at him and gazed across the table at Steffan. “Mr. Vidar, on the other hand, is all about energy and water.” She had done her research before she’d arrived. “Seems the next war on this planet is going to be access to clean water. Not enough to go around, isn’t that right?”

  He lifted his glass once more and squinted at her. “You’d be amazed at how many people don’t have their basic needs met.”

  “I would, and one should always start with the basic needs of people.”

  “Oh, my, are we onto solving the world’s problems already?” Mrs. Darden laughed.

  A large man’s shoe touched hers. Steffan’s? She pulled her feet further underneath her seat.

  “Not all the world’s problems,” Steffan said.

  That was his foot that had slipped in-between hers.

  “Just the most pressing ones.” He had the nerve to smile.

  “But then, not everything is as pressing as one makes it out to be.” She pulled her feet back so he’d have to slouch to reach her.

  Laurent signaled at the waiter walking by with a water pitcher and pointed to Sarah’s empty water goblet. The man stopped and refilled Sarah’s glass.

  “Tell me, Miss Marillioux, what do you find to be the most pressing issues of the day?” Steffan asked.

  “Oh, God, please don’t tell me we’re going to talk politics now,” Mrs. Darden groaned. “All that struggle for power. It’s so tedious.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more, Mrs. Darden,” returned Sarah.

  “Really?” Steffan asked. “I thought the women’s movement right now was all about righting the imbalance of power.”

  She shrugged. “I have never believed I didn’t have power.”

  “Good,” Steffan said. “Powerful women turn me on.”

  Mrs. Darden’s eyes snapped to him, though he pretended not to notice.

  Laurent interrupted, perhaps uncomfortable at the verbal jousting between her and Steffan? She, on the other hand, was rather warming up to it. “Would you like some wine?” he asked.

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  Steffan’s eyes pierced her from across the table. “I appreciate women who own their power—whether that be to share it or wield it. Laurent, what about you?”

  “Me? I like all women,” he said without a hitch and raised his water glass. Mrs. Darden nodded in his direction and smiled.

  “How diplomatic of you, Laurent,” Sarah said. “I believe Steffan wanted to know how dominant you like your partners.” She arched an eyebrow at Steffan in question.

  She could play this little secret game he’d started to play. It sure beat talking about politics, and the look on Mrs. Darden’s face was worth letting her irritation at the smug Swede go.

  “Yes, Miss Marillioux, you are quite correct.”

  She turned to Laurent. “Well, Laurent, what do you like?”

  “I like a strong partner,” he said, meeting her gaze so ardently she felt as if his eyes had kissed her face.

  She glanced down at his lap—and h
is erection punching at his pants. A pang hit her in her core, and then damn, if Steffan’s foot wasn’t between hers again. When was the last time a man touched her without explicit permission? Years? Two years ago, to be exact.

  “I like my men strong, too. In all kinds of ways.” She leaned toward Laurent and whispered in his ear. “Especially those who are unafraid to please.”

  The apple of his cheek rose with his smile and brushed across her skin. The raze of his slight five o’clock shadow scraped her skin and sent tingles up her neck. The room had grown warm, and Laurent’s scent—a mix of expensive summer wool and an unnamed spicy men’s cologne—drifted in the air. Without looking at Steffan, she eased her feet back, dragging her heels along the side of his foot. Despite his earlier jokes about her “death heels,” she knew their effect on him. He’d asked her to keep them on that night. She had—for a while—until they moved to the shower.

  Over the years, she’d purposefully dulled the details of that night in her mind, the deep blue of his eyes, his scent, his criminally perfect body—one designed to pull off a tightly tailored suit like the one he wore. All were details she’d shoveled into some mental compartment she’d refused to open. Tonight, a shock of blond hair kept falling into his eyes and … Jesus, she was admiring the man. This wouldn’t do. His suitability to join the Accendos family had to be formulated on facts, not feelings.

  “Tell me about your house renovations,” she said to Laurent and laid her hand gently on his leg for a long moment.

  Red once more colored his neck, but god love him, he began to speak about quartz countertops and specially-ordered bathroom fixtures. They were cold things that called up the practicalities of life, in other words, nothing romantic.

  As the four-course dinner unfolded, she divided her time between small talk with Michael and learning more about Laurent’s role as “house manager,” as he dubbed himself. Thankfully, Steffan’s attentions were taken up by Mrs. Darden who, after overhearing Laurent’s remarks about home renovations, kept him quite occupied with recommendations on contractors in Washington DC.

  Laurent did not drink a drop of alcohol during dinner. She also abstained because an idea formed halfway through the main course.

  She dabbed her napkin on her lips. “Well, gentleman, it’s been a wonderful evening. Laurent, would you see me home?” She spoke loudly. If others overheard, Steffan would be less inclined to balk at her request, as if he had the right to anyway.

  “I’d be delighted.” Laurent rose and reached for her chair.

  She felt every bit of Steffan’s amused face as she lifted herself from her seat.

  He unfolded himself, taking Mrs. Darden’s hand with him. He kissed it, causing a rare blush from the woman, his move rendering her speechless. He looked back at Sarah. “Laurent and I drove here. I’d hate to have him dependent on Uber or a taxi. We’ll both see you home. Two is always better than one.”

  We’ll see.

  After they said their good-byes to Yvette and a few others, Sarah found Laurent at the entrance, her spring wrap held out in an offering.

  “Why thank you, Laurent.”

  Steffan held the door open for them both, and they slipped out into the chilly spring air.

  “Really, Steffan, you don’t need—“

  “Oh, yes, I do.” He handed his valet ticket to the attendant. “Then tomorrow, we will continue our discussions … all three of us together?”

  “Why wait?” she asked. “Alexander’s is always open. We’ll go now.” Good, surprise on his face was what she was going for. When she’d said “home” she hadn’t said exactly which one, and playing this early in the vetting process, provided it included a Council member, wasn’t forbidden. It was within her power to choose if and when.

  “Excellent,” he said. “I had hoped we might pick up where we’d left off in London.”

  Now that her car was pulling up, she stepped off the curb. When she’d slipped out to the ladies’ room earlier, she’d asked the valet staff to make sure her car arrived precisely at 8:30. “I have something else in mind. Follow me.”

  10

  Tony, Alexander’s most trusted bodyguard, stood at the top of the step when she pulled up to Accendos’ main entrance.

  “Good evening, Tony,” she said and gave him her keys. “I’m bringing in Steffan Vidar and Laurent Chacon. I’ll take it from here.”

  “Mr. Rockingham asked me to come down and see if you needed anything.”

  “Alexander?” Of course. On the ride over, Sarah had called Carrie and instructed her on what to prepare. Carrie would have filled Alexander in, anticipating he likely wanted to be the person who could witness the new participant’s consent to play. The man also had a knack for anticipating her plans, like suddenly bringing Steffan and Laurent to the club.

  She was pleased to see the two men pull in behind her car and within seconds join her at the entrance. Tony opened the door for them.

  “Tony, will you see Laurent to The Library? I need a word with Steffan. That’s all right with you, Laurent, isn’t it?” She turned to Laurent.

  “Of course. I’ll leave you both to it.” Was that a smirk she saw on Laurent’s face as he slipped by and followed Tony out? For a submissive, she rather liked that he showed these off-character moments. He moved from acquiescence to opinionated male so quickly, it made her hands itch to grasp his cheeks and tell him exactly how she treated petulance—even the endearing kind.

  As soon as she and Steffan were alone in the portico, she circled the large round table, tuning into the sweet scent of the white French tulips that spilled gracefully from a large glass bowl. Her thoughts came together better when she was moving.

  “You needn’t be nervous,” Steffan said.

  “I’m not.”

  “You pace whenever we’re about to address unfamiliar territory.”

  He’d been studying her movements? She stopped in front of him. “I’d like to play alone with Laurent. You can observe. And, before you say no, you’ve had three glasses of wine, which is one more than Accendos allows in a twenty-four hour period for playtime.”

  He scratched his five o’clock shadow. “Another time then?”

  “Worried I don’t know what I’m doing? May I remind you, you two approached me?”

  “Fair enough. But there are things you need to know.”

  “So tell me.”

  “You know his limits, I presume?”

  “I am familiar with the list you sent over, yes.” She’d memorized the rather short list—too short in her estimation. “Tell me what’s not on there.” If she’d learned anything over the years, submissives were never to be trusted to reveal everything.

  “When it comes to playing alone with a Mistress, he enjoys being taken to the edge again and again. Don’t let him come.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know you could ask him all these things directly. I don’t own him.”

  “Yet you protect him.”

  “Sometimes from himself. In fact, I challenged him not to come all week.”

  “Is that how you two operate?”

  “I’m not his Master, but when he’s without someone, I offer a certain level of discipline. It’s not enough for him long-term, but he needs to be useful and for him, following rules—like those I laid out—is vital to his well-being, his confidence.”

  “Creative.”

  “Necessary. Service and structure are in his blood.”

  “What if he fails a task or breaks a rule?”

  “He doesn’t. And if he succeeds, we share someone—together.”

  Her lips parted. “Interesting reward.”

  “Works for me.” His eyes colored with that signature arrogance. “So you see, we both have a vested interest in him succeeding.”

  “Perhaps another time, Steffan,” she said with a smile. Like she’d let him touch her again tonight? Bad boy. And, with that thought, desire snaked up her inner thighs to her core and smoldered. She did her be
st to smother it.

  He lifted his chin and looked down at her. “Tell you what, if you wish for him to come undone, I will allow it. One time. Only one. His refraction period is staggeringly short. You’ll have to watch that.”

  “Laurent is capable of multiple orgasms in one evening?” Steffan nodded. Her eyebrow raised in curiosity and anticipation. How delicious.

  “If he climaxes more than once, then you and I must agree on the punishment,” Steffan added.

  “Agreed.” She was, after all, shutting Steffan out, and he and Laurent had a long-term, if unusual, relationship. She took a deep breath. “Anything else?”

  “Don’t be surprised if you fall in love. Immediately.”

  “I don’t fall in love—ever,” Sarah scoffed.

  “Never? How boring.”

  “How wise.” She headed down the hall to a waiting Laurent. Steffan prowled several steps behind.

  With every foot drawn closer to The Library, she willed herself to more calmness. She needed to have her whole head in what they were about to do. Her self-control must be absolute.

  Inside, Carrie waited for her, standing next to Alexander. Laurent knelt at their feet wearing nothing but those Slimane Dior Homme trousers that hugged his hips and ass so perfectly. He’d already stripped his shirt, shoes, and socks. She’d address that independent decision with him later. She enjoyed both dressing and undressing men.

  When Sarah stopped in front of him, he lowered his forehead to the ground. His immediate generosity warmed her heart, and that familiar jolt of power moved up her legs.