The Seduction Hypothesis Read online

  He stared at Ivan, who stared back for a second or two then focused suddenly on his beer. “Subs at the club,” he muttered. “She was right, but I don’t think I can start with that.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Just a minute.” Sighing, still not meeting his eyes, Ivan reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, pushing a few buttons. He studied it a bit, nodded, then looked back at Ben. “Camilla said if the subject of your relationship with Lindsey came up, I should ask you if you were aware of Lindsey’s interest in exploring—no, wait, she said not to summarize. I should ask if you’re aware of her interest in Balls ‘n’ Chain.”

  “What were you gonna say before?” Ben was mildly horrified, because he thought he knew. But only mildly. Not as horrified as he thought he should be.

  “Her interest in BDSM.”

  “Beedee...wait. What?”

  Ivan’s phone buzzed, and he tapped on it some more. “Camilla believes Lindsey is interested in BDSM. I happen to agree. Is this something she’s discussed with you?”

  “BDSM. Like...dungeons, and dudes in leather masks, shit like that?”

  “Most of us don’t wear leather masks,” Ivan said, not batting an eye. “And most BDSM doesn’t take place in dungeons.”

  “Okay.” Ben’s mind flew back to that fateful barbecue, the expression on Lindsey’s face, the way Ivan had leaned in and given her all his attention. The hypnotic cobra-stare. Then he thought of the comic, that stupid fucking comic Lindsey had shown him after he’d been trying so hard to forget about it, and the way he’d scolded her to prove what a great, sensitive, modern guy he was. To prove it to himself. And apparently the whole time, she was trying to tell him she was interested in doing that stuff? But how did Ivan know that’s what she... “Oh, you fucking asshole. You were coming on to her. I should beat the shit outta y—”

  “No,” Cami said, yanking her earbuds out and lurching across the table to grab Ben’s clenched fist. “No, no. That isn’t it, Ben. Just stop. Time out.”

  “Was I coming on to Lindsey?” Ivan asked Cami. He seemed curious, like he really wanted to know, and Ben’s temper cooled down a notch. Cami continued to press her hand over his fist, soothing him.

  “No, honey. But I think she liked the subs-at-the-club thing. She really responded to that. You even noticed it.”

  “What the fuck is the subs-at-the-club thing?” They’d both said it now, and Ben felt like they were speaking another language that only happened to sound like English.

  Cami rolled her eyes and let go of his fist. “I’m just going to tell you myself, because this whole Cyrano de Bergerac thing is really stupid.”

  “Cyrano de Bergerac? Wait, you’ve been listening!” he accused. “You weren’t reading, you’ve been feeding him lines. What the fuck, Cami?”

  “Oh, of course I have. You can’t expect Ivan to have these kinds of conversations, Ben. Come on, now.”

  “Are we done with that now?” Ivan asked her. “Because we weren’t very good at it.”

  Ben let another curse fly, then pressed his head back hard against the padded booth, his mind overloaded with what he’d just heard. Never mind that he’d really been hearing it from Cami, not Ivan, a shame he wasn’t sure he could ever live down. But if what she was saying was true, if Lindsey really had been trying to tell him something...

  Oh, God. Of course she was.

  “I’ve been such an idiot.”

  He opened his eyes to find Cami watching him intently, her eyes on his face and her lips curled around her straw. She was flushed, like she’d probably been drinking too fast and was already feeling it. Ivan, on the other hand, was back to staring into his barely touched beer, then tapping furiously away on his smartphone.

  “Do you want me to tell you what subs at the club means?” Cami asked.

  Ben nodded. “Sure. Shoot.”

  “Okay. You’ve probably figured out by now that Ivan and I are into some maybe less than absolutely orthodox—”

  “Yeah, I get it,” he interrupted. “You’re kinky. Let’s not dwell on that too much, okay? TMI. Just...get to the Lindsey part.”

  To his relief, Cami chuckled. “Okay. Fair enough. So what Ivan was doing at the barbecue that time, when he talked to Linds about Costa Rica, was treating her like he would treat a new sub. A submissive. It’s a BDSM term for somebody who likes to submit to a partner, a Dominant partner, when they’re—”

  “You’re dwelling. I’ve read the comic, Cami. Moving along now.”

  “Right, right. He wasn’t doing it to pick her up or anything, he was just trying to learn ways to talk to strangers, so he could feel more comfortable at this fundraising party he had to go to. At the time, I really didn’t think that much about how quickly and thoroughly Lindsey responded to Ivan. I didn’t know her very well yet. But in retrospect, now that I know a lot more, I think there was something to it. Especially given that she’s very interested in the comic, and that she’s actually going as a submissive character for the conference...”

  “And you said you thought she’d figured out we were into it,” Ivan supplied.

  “Yeah. That’s true. I caught her looking at us a few times yesterday after we’d been talking about Balls ‘n’ Chain, and the fact that Ivan and I are going as Sir Mansome and Kittycat for the costume contest. I swear I could see the lightbulb go on over her head. Which happens, no biggie, people do figure it out sometimes. But in Lindsey’s case, she looked so envious. Wistful. Not jealous, not like she wanted Ivan. I want you to know that. I didn’t get that at all from her. It was just like she wanted something she wasn’t getting, and she saw that when she looked at us.”

  “You kiss his hand like he’s the king,” Ben said. Not an accusation, just an observation. He wanted to ask questions, but he didn’t even know what those would be yet. His brain was reeling.

  Cami stared him down boldly. More confidently than he would have expected from somebody who had just told him she liked to submit to her boyfriend in bed. “And sometimes he kisses my hand. Not like I’m the queen, I’ll admit. But it’s best to keep a very open mind about some things, especially when you’re talking about what goes on behind other people’s closed doors. Different strokes, you know?”

  Ben considered that, then nodded. “So you think Lindsey’s...she showed me this thing from the comic once, where the guy, The Master? He had the Sub Red girl on his lap.”

  “The over-the-knee spanking scene?” Cami’s eyes lit up. It was clearly a favorite. “Yes, I’m familiar with that. Go on, go on.”

  “Ah.” He squirmed, unable to ignore the growing pressure in his pants as he thought about Lindsey, and spanking, and what her ass might feel like if he did that to her, and a million other random, unhelpful things. “Yeah. She showed me that. And I kind of blew it off. And told her I’d never do that, because of feminism and exploiting women, and blah blah blah. Stuff I thought she’d want to hear.”

  “You thought it was some kind of test?”

  “I’m not sure what I thought. I’m no prude, it just never occurred to me she might be trying to tell me something else.”

  “Sounds to me like you thought she was testing you.” Cami’s margarita was almost gone. She slurped at the dimple in the bottom of the glass, chasing around the last few drops with her straw.

  Ben shrugged, then slugged back a huge swallow of beer. Too large. He tried to restrain the belch that followed, but it came out anyway. Classy. “Maybe. But I obviously read the test question wrong. And failed.”

  “Maybe,” she agreed. She’d inched closer and closer to Ivan as she spoke, and now Ben was startled to realize they were practically snuggling. His hand was at her neck, moving in a slow pulse under her hair, and she was arching into the pressure like a cat. “But maybe you get to resubmit your answer after feedback.”

  “I don’t think I’m all that dominant. I don’t know if I can do that stuff, like in the strip. Wh-whipping, and flogging. Paddling...spanking...” He th
ought about Lindsey’s ass again, and about how even a firm grip could leave impressions on her pale redhead skin. His cock tried to climb out of his waistband. He was going to have to stay at this booth forever. “I wouldn’t even know where to get leather cuffs. Or a flogger.”

  He realized he was going into a damning amount of detail, protesting far too much, but it didn’t seem to faze his tablemates.

  “I have three floggers in my suitcase,” Ivan commented.

  “Three?” Cami was on the alert suddenly, counting on her fingers.

  “A surprise flogger,” Ivan confirmed. “For the costume.”

  Then he smirked at her, and Ben wanted to be at any other table in the universe. Cami had suddenly fallen under the snake-charmer’s spell.

  “Ben, I just sent you an email,” Ivan said, never taking his eyes off Cami. “A list of books you should read and some links to websites and videos. We’re going now. Have a nice afternoon.”

  The hint of tacked-on courtesy at the end didn’t ameliorate the fact that Ivan pulled Cami out of the booth and out of the bar without a backward glance, heading straight for the elevators. No attempt to be subtle. No attempt to pretend they were about to do anything other than head up to their room for kinky sex.

  Which left Ben sitting at the table alone, with only one thought left on his mind. How could he convince Lindsey that they needed to do that exact same thing?

  Chapter Five

  It was after three, and there must have been a session break because the crowd thickened rapidly as Lindsey and her two companions wove between the xenomorphs, Darth Vaders and Captain Americas to get across the street to the hotel bar.

  As they waited at the crosswalk, Sadie suddenly turned, slapping her palm to her forehead.

  “I’m so sorry, I forgot to introduce us. We can’t buy you a drink and talk business at you if you don’t know our names. I’m Samantha Weiss, this big oaf is my husband Mitch, and we’re—”

  “The Sassy Switches,” Lindsey interjected, grinning. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fangurl, it’s just you’re really good. Amazing, in fact. Like you walked off the page. I’m Lindsey, by the way.”

  “No, you are amazing. Seriously. You look more like Sub Red than Amy, and she’s who Sub Red is based on. Which is why we need you desperately, if you think you might be interested,” Samantha said, wringing her hands. “Amy had to go to a funeral, so she had to skip the con. Which means we don’t have our other booth babe, no offense. I know you’re not supposed to say booth babe anymore, but whatever. She and I usually take turns handing out promo and getting coffee or snacks, and helping turn the line when it gets too long.”

  “And take turns doing the demonstration with me,” added Mitch. “But obviously we wouldn’t ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

  “I’d do that, too,” Lindsey blurted. “All of that.”

  She wasn’t sure why, because she’d never done anything remotely like participating in a public display of BDSM. Or a private display of BDSM, for that matter. But it suddenly seemed like a great idea, the best idea. A no-brainer.

  Because I’ve obviously lost my mind.

  “Squee!” Samantha jumped up and down all the way across the street between the convention center and the hotel.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard somebody say that out loud before.”

  “If you’re doing this, you should get used to it. She says it a lot.” Despite his dry tone, affection was clear in Mitch’s smile and the gaze he sent after his bouncy wife. He’d peeled off his mask, revealing a handsome, conventional face and short-cropped brown hair. It was stuck close to his scalp now, because he’d been sweating inside the leather headgear. Much like the character he portrayed, he looked more like an accountant when unmasked than a scary Dominant. “So, you think you can do it? It would really help us out. We’d compensate you, of course. Reimburse you for your conference ticket, buy you some meals and drinks. By which I mean when one of us goes for food you’ll be counted in automatically. Oh, and we’d get you an upgraded pass.”

  “You can go in all the secret vendor and exhibitor-only areas.” Samantha nodded as they headed across the lobby toward the bar. “Very exciting, very hush-hush. Big boxes of comics and promo as far as the eye can see, like that scene at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Only without the Nazis leading into it.”

  “Or the snakes.” Lindsey was only a tiny bit regretful about that. Unexpected snakes in enclosed spaces were not nearly as cool as the ones you went out in the desert looking for.

  “This is Phoenix,” Samantha pointed out. “You could easily score a snake or maybe a scorpion in there. Or some kind of horrendous spider. Would that be a plus or a minus?”

  Lindsey pondered that for a moment as they secured a just-vacated table at the bar and hailed a waitress. “Snakes, a plus unless I step on one or something and get bitten. Scorpions would be a minus, because they’re creepy. Spiders, it just depends.”

  They ordered beer and then Mitch repaired to his and Samantha’s room for some documents.

  “A waiver, I suspect,” Samantha mused. “He’s a lawyer. They’re very hip to situations where liability needs to be waived. Not that I think it’s necessary in this case. So since it’s just us right now, I have to ask. Have you done anything like this before? I can’t decide if I think you’re in the lifestyle or not.”

  “I’m not.” Lindsey had no desire to lie about it, either, because she was sure “Sadie” would figure it out soon enough. “But I think I might want to be. And that’s kind of the first time I’ve said that out loud. It’s why my last boyfriend and I broke up, maybe? I can’t believe I’m telling a stranger all this.”

  “I have that effect on people. I’m a therapist.”

  “Oh. I wouldn’t have—really?”

  “No, I know. I don’t normally work in this outfit, of course,” she pointed out. “And I’m way more hyper at conventions than I am in real life. I don’t get out much, sad to say. So what do you do, Lindsey?”

  “Grad student. PhD candidate in ecology.”

  “You’re kidding me. Amy’s a research biologist. The girl who’s normally Sub Red, I mean. Talk about typecasting.”

  “You said the character was based on her?”

  “Sort of. Yeah. Yes, actually. We don’t usually out ourselves all over, but yes. The whole comic has a horrible amount of basis in fact. Andy really just records what he observes, then hyperbolizes. It’s kind of scary to know how he sees us all, sometimes. He’s so meta.”

  “So y’all are really Rick and Sadie? You do this stuff for real, I mean?”

  “Oh, peanut, you’re making puppy-dog eyes when you say that. And you said you’d let Mitch flog you in public. You’re not just mildly interested in the lifestyle—you’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

  “I’d kind of like to hear the answer to that myself...Red.”

  Ben had risen from the next booth like a genie from a bottle, only his head and upper body showing over the back of Samantha’s seat. He’d crossed his arms on the divider, and was looking at her sternly.

  Oh God, the eyebrow thing again. It would get old at some point, she told herself. But it hadn’t yet.

  She opened her mouth and nothing came out. Fitting, because her brain was short-circuiting. She did have it bad. She didn’t want to tell Ben that. He wanted her to ‘fess up. The eyebrow of power made her want to confess, even in front of her new acquaintance. Samantha was a stranger, but she was in the kink lifestyle. Would she buy the idea of Ben as a Dom? Would she work out that he was the ex-boyfriend?

  Samantha took a long look at Ben, looked back at Lindsey’s flustered face, and slid out of the booth. “Gosh, Mitchell is taking a long time with those documents. I’m going to go make sure he didn’t get stuck in the elevator or something. Back in ten, Lindsey, okay?”

  Lindsey nodded and then kept on nodding, feeling like a bobblehead. “Yeah. Sure. That’s...go. Thanks?”

  “Yea
h, that’s about what I thought. Knock ’em dead, champ!”

  Samantha disappeared, and Ben took her seat.

  “Was that knock ’em dead for me or for you?” he wondered aloud.

  “I don’t know. How much did you overhear?” She already knew, because he must have been sitting there when she sat down. It wasn’t like he’d snuck into the booth at some point afterward, under her radar. But asking him gave her something to say, instead of just flapping her jaw and going buh-buh-buh like a fool.

  “Enough. It’s not a complete surprise to me, though.”

  “Well, I figured.” The memory of humiliation ghosted over her, the shame she’d felt, the feeling that Ben had left because he suspected her of deviance. “That was why you walked out, wasn’t it? Because you thought I wanted to do all this freaky stuff, while fantasizing about Ivan?”

  “That’s what you thought?”

  She shrugged. She wasn’t really sure what she thought anymore. He was still giving her the stern look, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “I left,” he clarified, “because I felt like you weren’t going to be happy with me. You seemed like you were keeping something back, like...like you wanted something but you wouldn’t tell me. You wanted me to guess what it was, and you resented it when I couldn’t guess. And I couldn’t be happy with that. It took me a while to work all that out, though. So at the time, sure, I just blamed it all on the jealousy.”

  “I...” Lindsey looked down at her hands, which seemed to be shredding a damp cocktail napkin. It wasn’t like Ben was telling her anything new. There had been a certain amount of the dynamic he described. On the other hand, the fact remained that he was the one who called it quits when she was still willing to work on it. “I did tell you. I tried to, anyway. But you got all judgmental about it. Instead of listening to what I was saying, you made all these assumptions about what you thought I meant.”

  Great. Now they sounded like a case study from a cheesy self-help book about relationships.