Cocky Queen Read online

  The waitress brought biscuits and butter, and Vic waited for her to walk away to continue. “Girls clothes felt different, and I had fun playing the part. My grandfather went through the roof, but my mom said I could be whoever I wanted to be.”

  “And your dad?”

  Fuck, he was having to tell her too much. “Deadbeat. I found him when I got older, but just for curiosity. My mom raised me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. He did me a favor by staying out of our lives. Total loser, but he’s handsome so I can thank him for that — he gave Vickie and Victoria kick-ass cheekbones.”

  Vic’s father had been human with fae blood, and Vic’s peahen mother had been mesmerized by the minor league baseball player who knew all the right things to say to get her in bed. However, he’d been long gone by the time his mother realized she was pregnant. Most of the time, peahens who get pregnant by a human male, have a human child. Vic was one of the exceptions — a bird born as a mammal instead of hatched in an egg.

  The path from that first time he dressed as a girl, to the Drag Queen contest he’d entered at nineteen in Montgomery because he wanted the prize money, wasn’t very interesting — it’d just kind of happened, here and there. Once he’d actually won a contest and had people booking him in clubs all around the South, both the man and peacock had eaten up the attention. He’d loved being Victoria, but the audience was in love with Vickie, so that’s who he usually gave them.

  It was time to change the conversation away from him and back to her.

  “Tell me about the dress. I know there’s a story.”

  She blushed, and the air filled with erotic pheromones. Vic’s brows lifted but he remained silent. He couldn’t let her know what he could smell.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We have time.”

  “How did you learn to put makeup on?”

  He shook his head. “The dress. The story.”

  “How did you know to call me baby girl?”

  She was nervous now, and it had to do with the baby girl thing — and the dress could easily be a prop for role play around her being a little.

  Vic’s cock throbbed to life, but he couldn’t pressure her to tell him something that private. He needed to give her an out and then set the conversation up so she was comfortable talking about it.

  “Tell me something substantial about you, and I’ll spill,” he promised.

  “I’m in my last semester at Georgia Tech. Biomedical engineer. I interned in a robotics lab over the summer, and there’s an offer on the table to hire me once I have my degree in hand. They want me in their prosthetic robotics division.” She shrugged. “I have offers from other companies in other cities, but right now the local company has the best offer on the table.”

  “You have... what? A month or two left of school?”

  “Five weeks.”

  Maybe she hadn’t been working last night, after all. “So did you have a hot date last night, or were you up all night doing homework?”

  She shook her head. “Girl’s gotta eat, and pay the rent, and buy dog food. I was working last night, but please don’t ask where.”

  Something illegal? She didn’t seem the type to rob a bank or make meth. Still, she’d been worried he might be a cop.

  She’d told him a lot, so he kept up his end of the bargain.

  “I don’t know how I knew to call you baby girl. It’s been a long time since I had someone in my life worthy of the title, but it just kind of came out. Now that I know you like it, I’m intrigued. It’s why I asked about the dress, too. It’s kind of double-purpose, yes?”

  She nodded and looked confident, but Vic smelled her anxiety. “Sandals and my hair down, it’s just a casual sundress, but socks and tennies, with my hair in dogears, and it’s a totally different look.”

  The girl was terrified, but horny as fuck.

  “You’re so brave. I love your honesty, and I’d love to see you in the dress the other way, if you ever feel comfortable enough around me. I wish I knew you well enough to be able to assure you everything’s gonna be okay.”

  She shook her head and he smelled sadness. Regret. “It can’t be okay.”

  He wanted to hug her and make everything better, but they’d just met. Vic breathed in again, and caught the scent of multiple men on her. She’d showered, but it was still there. He’d scented it stronger the first time he’d seen her in the park, months ago. She said she hadn’t had a date the night before, but she’d had sex with more than one man in the past couple of days.

  “You’re breathing in as if you’re smelling for something.” She started to speak, closed her mouth, opened it as if to form a word, closed it again, and finally said, “Not a very human thing to do.”

  Fuck me, Vic thought.

  She knew about supernaturals, and her binding was keeping her from asking what she really wanted to know.

  But he couldn’t tell her about himself unless he was prepared to bind her — or unless he talked to whoever had already bound her.

  “Who did your binding?”

  Her face went slack, her pulse sped, and fear shot through her.

  Stupid question. She had no way to tell for sure he was supernatural. If she told him, she’d be giving someone’s secret away.

  “Sorry. You can’t tell me. It’s okay. We’ll drop the subject for now.”

  She excused herself to the bathroom, and he watched to be sure she didn’t bolt.

  The waitress brought their food while she was gone, and Vic started eating. Shapeshifters need a lot of food, and both the man and his inner peacock were starving.

  Chapter Three

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. Sandy didn’t have time for a man, but Vic seemed to be everything she wanted — a Dom who had a thing for littles, with a job that might mean he could accept the things she’d had to do to pay for college. Drag queens had to be open-minded, right? Also, he had a great sense of humor, and he didn’t take himself too seriously.

  And she really, really liked him.

  But she wasn’t supposed to meet the man of her dreams until she was no longer doing the job, and she didn’t have the option of quitting just yet. She had a whole lot of cash, but not enough legitimate, laundered funds to live on for more than a few months.

  Also, he was obviously some kind of shapeshifter, but she couldn’t ask him about it, and he wasn’t going to tell her anything unless he could verify she’d been bound — but since she’d been bound not to speak about it... fuck. It was a circular problem.

  She texted Gramps.

  I think someone needs to know I’ve been bound.

  Werewolves age slower than humans, and Gramps looked old, which meant he was probably ancient. He helped manage the B&B, and she trusted him with her life. He’d know what to do.

  He might be her boss, but he cared for the women and made sure they all stayed safe.

  She looked in the bathroom mirror. She had zero makeup on. She’d brushed her teeth and pulled her hair into a ponytail without even brushing it because she’d expected to walk Prince and go back to sleep.

  With a sigh, she pulled her hair loose, finger-combed it so it framed her face as it was supposed to, and walked back to the dining area with as much confidence as she could muster.

  In for a penny, in for a pound.

  Vic was eating when she came out, but he stopped and took a drink of his chai.

  “I like the hair.”

  “Neither of us is wearing makeup. I feel kind of naked without it.”

  “I’m Vic without it. I’m me when I’m not working. I’m only Vickie when I’m wearing her clothes.”

  Made sense. She was Sandy now, not Jeni. Jeni wore her hair parted on the other side, and iridescent eyeliner in rich colors instead of matte brown. Jeni wore pale pink blush over her contour powder, and Sandy stuck to earth tones.

  “Since we seem to have jumped straight to the personal stuff instead of taking our time getting th
ere,” she said, “let’s address it, shall we? What do you look for in a little?”

  He smiled, and she could see the favorite uncle in his eyes. So much promise.

  “The dress speaks to me. Stuffed animals. Bedtime. No cussing. I’ll cook, you eat. Cornertime or loss of privileges for minor behavior issues, bigger stuff... depends on the person — what’s ideal for one little girl might be too much for another.” He gave her a soft smile. “Little girls need a gentle touch, unless they’ve been bad, and sometimes correction still needs to be done with a gentle touch. Other little girls can only learn from a hard spanking.”

  Sandy never let clients spank her hard. Nothing that actually hurt. They understood they could spank her with their hand for effect, but it was just role-play. What would it be like to take it past role play? If someone could spank her for real?

  Vic’s eyes and nose were so focused on her, Sandy knew he was picking up every nuance of how she reacted to his words.

  “I don’t have to tell you how that affected me, do I?” she asked. They couldn’t outright talk about his sense of smell, but they both knew that they both knew.

  “You don’t have to do anything until we’ve properly negotiated.”

  “True, but that wasn’t what I meant.”

  A pause. “I’m aware.”

  She sighed. Could he tell she’d had sex with four men the night before? She was on the schedule for sessions with three later in the evening, though only two would want sex.

  She couldn’t have sex with Vic today — not sandwiched between so many customers.

  Her heart sank into her gut at the idea of telling him what she did for a living, but if he was going to get disgusted and walk away, would it be better for him to do it now, before she fell head over heels for him?

  “Something’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

  “No. You said all the right things, which is why I’m going to level with you, and then you can get up and walk out, or stay and talk, but if you can’t accept it, please leave.”

  He put his fork down. “Okay.”

  “Georgia Tech isn’t cheap, but I’ll graduate without even a penny of debt on my shoulders. Not a whole lot of jobs pay enough so you can handle college tuition and living expenses — and give you enough time to carry a three-point-five GPA.”

  “True.”

  She lowered her voice. He’d hear her. Shifters have good hearing. She was fairly certain he wasn’t a wolf but had no idea what he might be.

  “I’m a workin’ girl. A professional.” His eyes didn’t change. He wasn’t sure what she meant.

  She’d have to just say it.

  “I get paid to have sex.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Are you safe?”

  “They use condoms.”

  He shook his head. “Not what I was asking. Are you the kind who vets your customers so you have a good chance of not getting beat up and hurt?”

  Vic was taking this way too calmly.

  “Oh, that. I’m safe. Guard dogs outside the doors who’ll tear the head off anyone who takes things farther than negotiated, and I always have a safeword.”

  “Good to know. Do you enjoy your work? Or is it only a means to an end?”

  This felt a little like the time Bud’s reporter girlfriend had grilled her.

  “It’s a job. Some days are better than others, but I don’t hate it.” She shrugged. “It’s what showed me my kink — the little thing. I never knew there was something that would turn me on so much, and might never have figured it out. The job’s worked out okay for me, but I won’t be doing it forever.” She shrugged again — uncomfortable with his eyes on her, smelling her emotions. She felt naked under his scrutiny. “Probably a month or two past graduation, but only on the weekends. I intend to build up a bigger nest egg before I call it quits. Maybe buy a house without going into debt.”

  How much did drag queens make? She had no idea. Would there be a problem if she made more than him? She couldn’t imagine him ever letting her support him.

  He chuckled and reached across the table to rest his hand on hers. Just like with the wolves, he was warmer than expected. Her heart did a stupid little flitter-flutter, and she closed her eyes because she knew he smelled what he did to her.

  “I’m pretty sure we’ve both shared the brunt of our two biggest secrets,” he said. “I need more sleep today, too, but I don’t have anything else planned. I’ll need to leave my apartment at eight and have already eaten something light. What do you have planned for the day?”

  Sandy shook her head with a sigh. She’d told him she was a whore and he immediately invited her to sleep with him. Figured.

  “I haven’t been in a relationship in years, but when I’m on my own time, I don’t just fall into bed with someone.”

  “I apologize if that’s the impression I gave, and it probably was. My fault. I’m sorry.” He took a breath. “No sex. Just let me take care of you and tuck you into bed beside me, and then feed you when we wake. My fridge is stocked with everything necessary to build a fantastic salad.”

  Which completely ruled out him being a wolf, but she’d already figured out he didn’t act like the wolves she knew.

  Perhaps it might be a good time to remind him she wasn’t without people to defend her, if someone hurt her. She took a breath and met his gaze. “Those guard dogs I told you about are protective of us even when we aren’t working.”

  “They don’t let you date?” If he’d had hackles, they’d have been raised.

  “Not that kind of protective. They tend to hurt anyone who doesn’t respect a safeword, whether we’re working or not.”

  He smiled and relaxed. “I’m glad you have people who care for you.”

  “So am I.” She blew out a breath. A year from now, she’d regret not taking him up on this if she refused him and never got another invitation.

  “Okay. Sleep, but only because I can see you need it as badly as me.”

  He smiled. “I know a little girl who needs a warm bubble bath before she gets a nap.”

  Sandy’s heart melted and her eyes went all misty. It’d been a long time since anyone had wanted to take care of her. “That sounds nice.”

  She’d text Gramps to let him know who to go after if she didn’t show up for work. She’d taken note of Vic’s address when they stopped for him to change clothes. He’d come looking for her.

  If they were going to jump right into it, she needed to clear up a few things, though.

  “I have a dad. Calling someone else daddy is...” She rolled her eyes. “Squicky. However, the position of uncle is open.”

  A warm smile. Not just his mouth, but his entire face showed pleasure. His eyes were happy.

  “I’m pleased you’re telling me what won’t work. I always want you to be upfront.” His hand had come off hers at some point, and he put it back. She breathed easier with the connection.

  “Okay,” he continued. “Vic when we’re like this, Uncle Victor when you’re little, and Vickie if you’re ever with me when I’m her.” His sparkly grin reminded her of Vickie, but his voice was all Vic. Deep and manly, and full of promise. “I’m afraid you’re destined to be baby-girl no matter what.”

  When he said it now, it was all one word, and not two. She loved the way it rolled off his lips.

  Sandy had seen Vic as his Victoria persona once, too. How did that play into his role as Vickie? She wasn’t sure how to phrase the question, so she merely asked, “Victoria?”

  He shook his head. “Stage name. I mean, technically, so is Vickie, but I’m her when I’m dressed up. People don’t call me Vic once the make-up’s on, but friends still call me Vickie backstage even when I’m Victoria.”

  She nodded. “I’m Jeni at work. If anyone ever calls me that when you’re around, you’ll know they’re in that part of my life. I’m Sandy everywhere else. One of my professors insists on calling me Sandra. He says I should use my full first name once I start working. I understand his reasoning, bu
t I haven’t decided.”

  “What’s his reasoning?”

  “Grown-up names are taken more seriously. Timmy versus Tim. Women have a harder time being taken seriously to start with, so a diminutive name is a double whammy.”

  “He isn’t wrong. People treat Victoria completely different than they treat Vickie. It’s sophisticated glamour next to all-American-girl. There’s nothing wrong with you being a brilliant scientist at work and my baby-girl at night.”

  And that was the next rub. “You work nights.”

  He nodded. “I do. Thursday through Saturday. Without fail. One weekend a month, I still travel to other cities so I keep my name recognition fresh outside of Atlanta. I’m booked out at least through the fall, and have a few things already on the calendar for next year.”

  “I work three-ish hours Monday and Wednesday evening, around six hours Friday and Saturday night, plus I carry a full load at Georgia Tech.”

  “Ish?”

  “I need fifteen minutes between clients to shower and get ready for the next. Most want me an hour, some only arrange for thirty minutes, others book me for two hours. Depending on the sessions, I could be there anywhere from two and a half hours to four hours when I work a half shift. Whole shifts are a little easier to manage, but it still isn’t an exact science. My job is all about customer service though. I conform to what they need. Within reason.” She took a breath and asked the big question. “You’ll be okay with me, in a relationship, knowing what I do on those nights?”

  Sandy worried she was jumping the gun — they’d just met and she was already using the relationship word — but she needed to know.

  Chapter Four

  It was an honest question, and it was too bad Vic couldn’t tell her he was a peacock and his kind weren’t big on exclusivity.

  He could easily pull monogamy off for the right woman, but he wasn’t a wolf who wanted to rip anyone to shreds who looked at his mate the wrong way.