Ian didn’t move a muscle. Chelsea wasn’t wearing a collar and she was Charlie’s sister, so that put her firmly under Ian’s control and protection. But just for the briefest of seconds, he thought Simon might call him out on it. Interesting.
Simon broke eye contact and went back to his beer. “What do you want?”
“I’m in need of a session.” There was nothing soft or submissive about the way Chelsea spoke. She could have been walking into a department store and ordering a salesperson to bring her a shirt.
“Shit,” Charlie said under her breath. “I’ve tried to teach her proper behavior.”
Ian stroked her hair. “Hush. You can’t save her from this.”
“Are you asking me to play with you?” Simon asked. Even from where Ian was sitting he could see the cool appraisal in the way Simon looked Chelsea up and down.
She didn’t have her sister’s height. Chelsea was average, probably five foot six, and she wasn’t some starved supermodel. Ian was sure a crazed bitch like Amanda would likely call Chelsea fat, but Ian just thought she looked healthy. Amanda would be happier if someone fed her. Women got mean when they didn’t eat. Even Eve was much happier now that Alex was stuffing her with chocolates.
“Not at all,” Chelsea returned with a brisk shake of her head. “I’m asking you to flog me. I would need roughly thirty to forty minutes of your time. I prefer a thump to a sting. I would rather use deerskin falls, and I won’t be tied down.”
Ian groaned a little. Most subs knew not to sound like they were ordering a burger at a fast-food place.
Charlie was trying to see again. “I told you. I need to do the negotiating. She’s not good at this. She’s been in front of that computer so long she’s forgotten how to deal with actual human beings.”
“Get up here.” It was useless to not let her watch. She would wiggle and twist and probably get a crick in her neck. It was easier to pull her into his lap.
She sat herself right over his cock, and that damn little bit of spandex had already ridden up on her hips so that all that prevented penetration was his leathers. Because his cock knew what it wanted. It had been hard since the moment she’d dropped to her knees. Hell, he’d gotten aroused watching her haul Amanda out on her ass. If he didn’t have his leathers on, he knew damn well his cock would be trying hard to work its way inside her. He could let her sit on his cock and watch the world go by.
“Really?” Simon was asking, his voice low and sarcastic. “You have a list of demands for me, sub?”
Chelsea shrugged a little. “No. I assumed you were intelligent enough to remember what I wanted.”
Charlie buried her head in Ian’s shoulder. “I don’t want to see it.”
But Ian totally did. Fuck, he kind of lived for this shit. It was sad, but he accepted it. He was a voyeur in all things. He liked to watch people fuck when they did it well, and he sure liked to watch people fuck up. It was funny.
Simon stood, towering over Chelsea. “What did you say, sub?”
Chelsea seemed caught on the big Brit’s chest, her eyes staring at the place where his leather vest parted and showed off skin. “I was simply trying to explain what I need, Sir.”
“That’s so not going to work,” Ian said.
Charlie was looking again, her face hopeful. “Maybe she can pull it off.”
He grinned because there was no fucking way. “Wanna bet?”
Charlie shook her head and ducked in again. “No. I would lose.”
Simon brought his hand to Chelsea’s chin, forcing her to look up at his face, but there was a stubborn set to her eyes.
“No, Chels, come on. Soften up,” Charlie was saying.
“Nah, she’s about to commit assault and brattery on him. We should call Derek back,” Ian said.
Charlie made a vomiting sound. “That’s awful.”
It was. He was full of bad puns, but they almost never came out.
If he were sitting here with Grace or Eve, they would have already pointed out how rude it was to intrude on Simon and Chelsea’s conversation by listening in. Avery would already have begged him to intervene because her tender heart couldn’t stand conflict. Serena would be taking notes. Only Charlie was in the moment with him. Only she understood that the dramas playing out around them might not be meant for their entertainment, but damn they were fun to watch. Other subs would just sit quietly and would likely have laughed at his terrible joke, never calling him on his bad sense of humor. Not Charlie.
Why did the one woman he was comfortable with have to turn out to be the enemy?
“Maybe I have a few demands of my own,” Simon said.
Chelsea’s shoulders squared. “Fine. I’m willing to listen.”
“I’ll use the deerskin flogger. I have a very nice one I’ve been wanting to break in. Thud not sting, though I think you might like a little sting if you tried it. You will be naked and tied down.”
“She won’t do it,” Charlie whispered. “She was tied down when she had her legs broken. She can’t stand it.”
“All the more reason for her to face it with someone she trusts,” Ian replied. “I don’t think that’s going to be Simon.”
Chelsea’s jaw clenched, and she took a moment to reply. “Loose bindings, I keep my clothes.”
He looked down, and Charlie’s eyes had gone wide. Looked like Chelsea had a thing for Simon.
The Brit ran his fingertips from her neck to the collar of the tank top Chelsea was wearing. “I’ll give on the bindings, but no clothes.”
Ah, the Brit wanted to see some skin.
“Why? Do you want to see the cripple naked?” Chelsea asked, her voice hard.
“Ouch.” Charlie flinched.
“Yeah, that will get her in serious trouble,” Ian allowed. Self-mockery was brutally unappealing. He would rather be around a plain woman who thought she was beautiful than a beautiful one who complained she was plain.
“No. I want to see you naked, and if you keep talking like that it’s not a flogging you’ll get, it’s a spanking, and I promise you it will sting.” Every word out of his mouth was clipped and angry.
A long moment passed where they seemed connected. Maybe he’d been wrong about Simon not being ready. The big Dom was looking down at the computer-geek cutie like he could eat her alive.