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failure.
    “I’ve focused on encouraging your curiosity, engaging your adventurous and competitive desires. But your difficulty last week showed me my error.”
    Henry, make a mistake. She scoffed in silence. A dominant partner who apologized and admitted his errors without hesitation had to be uncommon if not rare. Logic insisted others enjoyed similar relationships, but emotion declared only Henry—and emotion beat in time with her heart.
    These moments quelled her doubts and wondering over how the hell she’d ended up granting a man so much control. He never assumed his every action was correct because he’d been the one to do it. Following his own ethical code, he listened to her and to Jay, and he made things right when he believed he’d missed a step.
    “I haven’t let you see enough.” Lifting her hands, he delivered a comforting squeeze. “Your observable data is limited to a single successful example, one in which your role was minimal.”
    Valentine’s Day. Until then, her window on her lovers’ relationship had offered a view confined to how she fit into it. And in the month since the club disaster, since she’d moved in, Henry had restricted his games with Jay to hands and mouths. No intercourse.
    Of course. He’d orchestrated distance for Jay. Granting him time to expel the pain and anger at the source, in the room where he’d been assaulted, had opened him to greater acceptance of himself and Henry’s love.
    “We’ll correct the oversight tonight. For that, we’ll need an experienced volunteer to demonstrate.” With one incremental turn she hastily copied, he put a sunny smile on Jay’s face. “You’ll receive the lion’s share of attention tonight, my boy.” Henry all but purred his promise. “Do you feel up to the challenge?”
    “Yes, Henry. Thank you.” Control lay beyond Jay, his voice vibrating as he bobbed his agreement. “I’ll be a good boy for you and Alice.”
    For her. Not merely for Henry. Jay wanted her approval, to be her beloved pet and sit at her feet as he’d done after tea. His easy acceptance allowed their roles to shift fluidly. Henry held absolute control, but her power, and Jay’s, depended on intuition. In sensing each other’s needs, they stepped forward or fell back to maintain harmonic balance.
    “I’m certain you will. No intestinal issues that might interfere with playtime?” Even-toned, Henry made the question routine. Only he could turn you won’t shit the bed, will you? into a loving, tender inquiry.
    One she worried about. Unlikely, but not impossible—and God, what a humiliating nightmare. The possibility clenched her ass shut.
    Smirking, Jay shook his head. “Clean as a whistle. No fullness, no discomfort, and you know I showered when I got home, so no bike sweat, either.”
    She’d have to learn his lack of embarrassment if she intended to be as open and naturally submissive. Nothing Henry asked meant to humiliate them, only to benefit them. And they’d given him a perfect right to the answers.
    “Come along to the bedroom, then, my dears.” He pulled her to her feet as Jay bounced to his. “We have a full agenda.”
    * * * *
    A vast expanse of emptiness, the bed lay bare down to the fitted sheet. The velvet wall bench stood near the foot, pressed into service as a sideboard. The appetizers—toys small and large, metal and glass, in shapes way more complex than her all-but-retired bullet vibe—sure as hell looked filling. A half-dozen, lined up to Henry’s exacting standards, shared space with condoms, lube, and the assorted contents of his nightstand.
    “Did you set this up like a lab space to”—mmm, Henry’d stripped Jay while she’d taken inventory—“make me more comfortable?”
    “Certainly.” He patted Jay’s ass. “Up on the bed.”
    Jay scrambled up, all long limbs and tanned skin. One sexy fucking addition to her design kit. With his sweet smile and toned muscles, he’d distract her from her