Roni Loren - Melt Into You

“All right, guys and dolls, the lovely Ms. Kennedy has agreed to be my willing victim to demonstrate the exercise, so I’d like to thank her for her bravery. And hopefully we won’t make the good doctor too jealous.” Jace winked in Daniel’s direction and the audience laughed.

Jace put out his hand and helped Evan to her feet. “Now since Evan’s up here on stage and has a dress on, I’m going to have her sit in a chair for this, but for everyone else, I want one person lying on the ground and their partner sitting next to them. So first I need each couple to decide who is going to be leading the exercise and who is going to be the recipient.”

The crowd began to hum with conversation again as each couple decided who would play what role. Jace turned to her and lowered his voice. “You sure you’re okay with this? I know your fiancé over there kind of threw you to the wolves—or me, in this case. If it’s weird that—”

“It’s fine ,” she said, probably a bit too emphatically, then shrugged in an attempt to appear casual. “I’m a big girl, Jace. I can handle a blindfold and a feather.”

His eyes darkened, an unreadable expression crossing his face. “Right.”

He left her alone for a moment, giving her a chance to catch her breath, and headed to the far side of the stage. The lights dimmed slightly and for a moment she thought they’d tripped the circuit again, but then soft music started playing and she realized Jace was setting a relaxing mood for the group.

When he returned to her, he had a chair in tow. She sat down and faced the very attentive audience. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as a paradoxical combination of dread and anticipation came over her.

Jace circled her chair and braced his hands on the back of it, his knuckles grazing her bare shoulders. “All right, everyone, the first thing we’re going to do is establish a safe word. This is something that’s typically used in more serious sexual play, but I think it’s useful in this context as well. If your partner does anything that you are not comfortable with, you say ‘red’ and everything will stop. Understand?”

The audience members bobbed their heads, and Evan resisted the urge to bite her nails.

“This is all about establishing trust with your partner. Once you feel safe with him or her, you’ll find you’re able to let go and have more fun in the bedroom. So, let’s get started by taking out your blindfolds.” Jace bent and grabbed the little black mask from the bag next to her chair. “You want your mate to focus on the sensation of your touch, not everything else going on around them. So slip this over his or her eyes.”

Jace touched her shoulder, and Evan nearly jumped out of the chair.

“Easy, Ev. I’m just going to put this on you.” He walked around the front of her chair, blocking out her view of the audience, and leaned toward her. His hulking presence hovering over her should’ve made her more nervous, but it somehow eased her hopping nerves instead. Their eyes met for a moment, and she thought she saw worry flickering in his. But before she could examine his expression further, he slid the black material over her eyes and blotted out the view.

She took a deep breath, the loss of vision disconcerting her. Darkness was not her thing. She gripped the arms of the chair and strained her ears to get an idea of where Jace was moving. As if sensing her need, Jace laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, grounding her. The tightening muscles in her body loosened.

His voice was soothing when he spoke again. “Now, the only rule is that you can’t touch the person anywhere overtly sexual—arms, legs, head, and face are all in play. Start with soft, easy touches above the neck. Like this.”

Jace’s hand left her shoulder and soon gentle fingertips threaded in her hair and moved in a circular motion against her scalp. A hard shudder of pleasure went through her, and she had to work hard to hold in a sigh.

“Feel free to use your hands or the feather we provided. The person receiving the touch shouldn’t speak unless it’s to use the safe word.”

Evan could hear the shuffling in the room as people adjusted and started the exercise, but all her focus remained on the lovely pressure of Jace’s fingers against her skull.

“Mmm,” she murmured low enough so no one but Jace would hear. “You missed your calling as a salon shampoo girl.”

“I didn’t say you could speak,” he said, his voice low, commanding.

The authority in his tone sent an odd zing through her. Whoa . She shifted in her seat, feeling warmer than she had a second before. She nodded, not sure if an apology would break the no-speaking rule as well.

His fingers halted as if he’d been surprised by something. Breath tickled her ear. “Sorry, Ev. That just slipped out. You can talk if you want.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll follow the rules you set for the activity. I can take direction.”

She couldn’t tell if the noise he made was an under-the-breath groan or a grunt of approval, but he returned to the exercise. His fingertips slid down the side of her neck and marked a whisper-light path across her throat that had her holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut beneath the blindfold. Without consciously deciding to do so, she tilted her head back, giving him better access.

He traced over the line of her collarbone, ever so softly, but so damn effective. It was as if each brush of skin pressed a button on her circuit board, lighting up places that had long gone dim. Delicate threads of warmth traveled down from the press of his fingers to the curve of her breasts, settling right into her quickly hardening nipples.

Dark thoughts of Jace moving his hands lower, slipping beneath the neckline of her dress and cupping her breasts in front of all these people had liquid heat gathering between her thighs. His touch would be firm, confident. He wouldn’t even care that others were watching. He’d just touch her however he pleased. And she’d let him.

She bit her lip. Stop. This is Jace.

She crossed her legs more tightly together.

Even if she could forgive him for how he’d treated her all those years ago, she definitely could never risk being around him again. Not as a friend, and certainly not as anything more. When he’d pushed her away, her entire existence had folded in on itself. Not before or since had she ever fallen for anyone that hard—let a person’s place in her world define if life was worth living or not. It had been stupid. And dangerous. She’d spiraled into the pit of her depression so fast, she’d gotten whiplash.

She knew she wasn’t that bad off anymore. She had taken steps to work with those damaged parts of her makeup. But she also knew Jace being near was like setting heroin in front of a recovering addict. She needed to run in the other direction.

Now if she could just convince her hormones of that.

Jace’s voice broke through the quiet of the room. “If you feel comfortable doing so, you can use the silk scarf to bind your partner’s hands above their head, so they can experience letting go of even more control. Then, you can move to touching the lower half. Keep the touch light and easy.”

Evan could see a bit of movement through the shadow of the mask, and a warm hand grasped her wrist. “Evan, sit up straighter. I’m going to bind your hands behind the chair.”

“Yes, si— I mean, sure.”

Sir? Where the hell had that come from? It’d slipped off her tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world to call him. Must’ve been that authoritative tone he kept using with her. Man, she needed more sleep. She was getting loopy.

Jace made quick work of securing her hands behind the chair. The binding was loose, but the effect potent nonetheless. Her heartbeat picked up speed. She’d never considered herself a control freak, but she’d also learned very early on not to trust anyone but herself. She wet her lips, reminding herself that they were in front of an audience. That this was completely harmless.