“In a heartbeat.” Akira threaded her arm through Jacob’s. It felt right. So right, he covered her hand with his and looked down at her, only to find her studying him somberly. “Lay off the new guy. The Brother Jacob schtick is reserved solely for me.” Her face softened. “Or it was.”
Was? Why the past tense? Because the subtext, that he was a boring, sober monk, no longer applied?
Good. He gave her a wicked smile.
Remy wasn’t important any longer. Showing Akira how un-monk-like he could be was.
“Your wish is my command,” Remy said lightly.
Akira snorted and tore her gaze away to look at her friend. “If only it were that easy.”
Jacob realized then the room had quieted. He lifted his head, noting at least half the participants had departed. The ones remaining were occupied nuzzling with a partner or two. “Where is everyone?”
Remy answered, “There are two smaller salons Akira sets up for people who wish to participate in scenes. Who’s playing tonight?”
“Zoe, to start.”
The other man gave a low whistle. “Taking Jacob’s training wheels off on the first night, huh?”
“We both know I’m only easy when I want to be.”
“A scene…like, a show?” Jacob interrupted the banter.
Akira tipped her head. “Something like that.”
“As in control as Akira is, she’s remarkably hands-off on our little parties,” Remy responded, seeming to realize Akira’s answer told Jacob nothing. “Some of the guests like to put on a show.” He regarded Akira fondly. “Akira made sure they have a place to do it.”
Jacob snagged his beer bottle and drained it, a lot intrigued and a little apprehensive. “Sounds interesting.” He placed the bottle on the bar. “Shall we?”
Remy waved at them, his attention on a man across the room. “You guys go on. I’ll catch up with you.”
Jacob tightened his fingers on hers as Akira led him away. “If you wanted me to mingle, I’m afraid the only person I met was Remy.”
“I didn’t expect you to mingle. I expected you to go get a drink and then survey the crowd like you were watching a play. It’s what you do anytime there’s any kind of gathering.”
He glanced at her, surprised.
“What?” she asked. “I’ve been to dozens of parties with you.”
“I didn’t realize you were observing me at all those parties.” But why not? There hadn’t been a get-together he had been to where he wasn’t acutely aware of every action Akira made.
A flush crept up her chest. Jacob hid his smile. The woman could speak blithely about group sex, but point out that she may have surreptitiously studied his habits, and she blushed.
“I didn’t need to watch you like a hawk to catch a pattern,” she said defensively.
“Sure. And I do mingle, you know. You make me sound like a creepy shut-in.”
“Not creepy. Just brooding. Introverted.”
He squinted. “Brooding introverts build bombs in cabins in the Midwest.”
“They also write books.”
He surveyed the rest of the people remaining in the room they were leaving and dropped his voice. “Will these people have sex in here?”
“Some of them,” she responded, blasé. “I keep four rooms open on this floor, though the other three are generally for scenes. Everyone is free to use the space as they wish.”
They stepped inside the adjoining room. The low track lighting in the ceiling was focused on the raised dais in the middle.
