Clutching his wrist in both hands, Tamsyn said something to him, her face crumpling again, but Reaux simply shook his head firmly, nudging her chin with his knuckle, then winked at her. Tucking the handkerchief away, he offered her his hand and led her back to the group with dignity.
“Sorry that took so long,” he said to Merrick. “The pixie’s a tough nut to crack.”
“It was ten minutes,” Merrick replied, obviously shocked.
“Like I said,” Reaux murmured, carefully handing Tamsyn back to her Dom and waiting for her to snuggle into him before sliding in beside Violet, “tough nut. She’s okay now, aren’t you, pixie?”
A tired nod was her reply.
“Good girl. Now, what did we miss?”
“Nothing much.” Intrigued, Violet leaned in close enough to whisper, “What did you do?”
“Do? What I do best, Mistress.”
“Boudreaux.”
“It’s a secret. Tamsyn will tell you if and when she’s ready.”
For a shocking moment, she wondered if she and Tabitha weren’t the only ones in thewaiting to find outstage of the pregnancy game, but dismissed it quickly. Tamsyn was absurdly naïve about her own body and its capabilities, thanks to her upbringing; if she was pregnant, Merrick would know before she did.
“Do you really want to test my temper, boy?”
“That depends. Is it fueled by a certain kind of hormones? Because I’m pretty sure that’s an epic level of hotness I’m just not ready for.” Grinning, he bent and nipped her mouth. “Getting fucked by my pregnant wife would open up a whole barrel of kinky exploits.”
“Not your wife. Possibly not pregnant,” she reminded him in a deadly quiet hiss.
“Yet.” He yelped when she snagged his nipple through his shirt, twisting sharply enough to sit him ramrod straight as chuckles rippled around the tables. “Fine, fine. I may have promised you’ll partake in Zoom conversations with the pixie.”
“Oh. Well, that’s not a problem.” Violet released his nipple. “Of course, it’s not.”
Reaux did his best to look innocent as he rubbed his hand over the ache. “Every day.”
“Every what?”
“Every day, eight p.m. Denver time.”
Callie and Sierra both jumped on that without hesitation. “Us too!”
Wonderful. It still wasn’t an issue—anything she could do to ease the transition was fine with her—but she wasn’t going to let him think he could just organize her life without any input from her. “Did you think to run that by with her Dom? You know, the guy who controls her schedule on a day-to-day basis to keep her in a routine she can rely on?”
“Oh, fuck.” Reaux frowned, then shrugged and turned to face the man in question. “Merrick, are you okay with Violet calling the pixie every day at eight p.m.?”
“If it keeps my little owl happy, Violet can call whenever she damn likes.”
Evidently pleased, Reaux turned back to her and grinned again, smugly this time. “He’s cool with it.”
A lifetime of this, she thought in exasperation. God forbid she was actually pregnant—she knew who would be the strict parent and who was going to be the pushover. “I heard.”
“Is the wine not to standard?” Elias asked from the far end of the table, scowling down toward them. The eagle-eyed sonofabitch flicked his gaze from Tabitha’s full glass to Violet’s—only the two of them were ‘drinking’; Callie, Sierra, and Tamsyn all had juice in their glasses.
“Uh…” Violet shared a joint look of alarm with Tabitha.
“Let me taste.” Concerned, Liam took the glass Grit obligingly passed him and sipped. “No, that’s good. It’s a good vintage,” he said, sipping again. “Remind me to order some more of that.”
It happened in slow motion.
Violet saw Elias’s scowl deepen, his focus lifting from the wine as he concluded it wasn’t the issue, to study first her face, then Tabitha’s with fierce intensity. That dark head cocked curiously before his right eyebrow rose in question.
