A Quartet of Pleasures Read online




  A Quartet of Pleasures:

  Four Steamy, Symphonic Shorts

  Annabel Joseph

  Copyright © 2020 Annabel Joseph

  Kindle Edition

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All romantically involved characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Definitely Kinky (Where Ruby Tangles With Ethan)

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  Perfect and Powerful (Where Ruby Learns to Like Jonathan)

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  Play With Me (Where Ruby Has Fun With Steve)

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  The Full Concerto (Where Ruby Gets a Birthday Present)

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  A Final Note

  Other Musical Titles by Annabel Joseph

  About the Author

  Definitely Kinky

  Where Ruby Tangles With Ethan

  1.

  Ruby sat straighter in her chair and stared at Jonathan as their Haydn piece reached its climax. As first violinist, Jonathan’s job was to keep the quartet on track. He gave her a look that said Just keep playing, even as a group of cavorting wedding guests got more and more naked a few feet from their instruments. In her line of sight, the groom, dressed as a glittery pleather unicorn, knelt at his bride’s feet and whinnied loudly each time she flicked him with her equally glittery riding crop. As Ruby played her second violin part through to the finish, she wondered if it was the first time in history a Haydn concerto had been punctuated by a fetish-unicorn’s orgasmic scream.

  She glanced over at Steve, their cellist and unofficial business manager. Clearly, he’d booked this gig without asking enough questions. Even if he’d asked questions, she wasn’t sure the full picture could have been conveyed. After accompanying a sedate wedding at the courthouse to the strains of Pachelbel’s Canon in D, the Gold Quartet had set up their semi-circle of chairs to perform at the nearby reception. That was when they realized the bride and groom were kinky, and all their friends were kinky, and everyone invited to the wedding was kinky as hell, and that they planned to celebrate with a party of epic kinky proportions.

  Of course, they were an equal opportunity string quartet. They performed at any and all weddings, along with balls, receptions, and corporate events, but if Ruby had known it was going to be this kind of wedding reception, she would’ve twisted her long, brown hair up in a bun, and worn a machine-washable gown.

  “What are we playing next?” asked Ethan, the consummate professional. With his dark hair and striking blue eyes, their viola player could look as stern as Jonathan when he wanted to, but unlike Jonathan, he was never a dick. As he leafed through his music folder, Ruby stuffed down laughter. Here they were, the three guys in their tuxes, and her in her elegant champagne-satin gown, in the middle of a post-wedding orgy.

  “Why didn’t they hire a DJ?” Jonathan muttered as the naked people beside him groped each other, lost in their erotic world.

  “Quartets are classier,” Steve answered, deadpan.

  Ruby did laugh then, letting her concert demeanor slip. She was brought back into line by a sideways frown from Jonathan, his amber-brown eyes popping beneath his auburn hair. He suggested a more rambunctious Beethoven piece to match the heightening mood around them. Ruby glanced at her watch as she lifted her violin to her shoulder. Another hour to go, and they were already reaching for the Beethoven.

  At least the demanding piece would distract her from the uncomfortable scenes going on around her. She wasn’t a prude, and they’d seen plenty of strange things at wedding receptions, but people who hired string quartets were usually aiming for sophisticated, highbrow affairs. This reception was energetic, fun, and loving, but not highbrow by a long shot. She wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

  Just play, Ruby, she told herself. The men soldiered on, and so did she, even when wedding guests started spanking each other in time to the music. One of the women actually asked Jonathan in the middle of a piece if he would spank her with his bow, and he crisply declined, going red beneath his manicured beard. Ruby and the others shared amused glances as their usually perfect leader dropped a couple of notes. From Steve’s smile, she thought he might have agreed to spank the drunk woman. He was the blond, laid-back party boy of their group. As for Ethan…

  Well, she didn’t know. Ethan never gave much away.

  Ruby was trying not to give anything away. The truth was, she was fascinated by the BDSM activities around her. Kind of flustered. Kind of worked up, because finding pleasure through pain wasn’t an alien concept to her.

  She’d experimented a little over the years, not with partners, because she’d never found the courage to express what she wanted, but on her own, using clothespins and paddles and half-ass bondage she could easily escape. It excited her, but she wasn’t sure she could survive doing things like that with another person. What if they thought she was a pervert? Or worse, what if they thought she wasn’t enough of a pervert? What if she couldn’t handle what they wanted her to do?

  These wedding guests seemed able to handle anything. They interacted with each other naturally, some of them switching partners, some of them playing in duos, threesomes, foursomes, or moresomes, content to hurt or tease at will. She was watching one of those moresomes with a squirming pang of arousal when Ethan caught her gaze.

  She quickly looked away, then back again, so she’d seem less guilty. She glanced at him often when they played, since he sat on her right, but also because his dark, tousled hair was kind of sexy compared to Jonathan and Steve’s short cuts. Ethan’s blue eyes were as light as his hair was dark, at least in the sun. Inside, like now, they were the azure shade of an aquamarine sea.

  She couldn’t let Ethan read her, not now, with crazy thoughts in her mind about spanking and slapping and whipping, and how it might feel to be tied up in a way she couldn’t escape. As their Beethoven concerto ended, she busied herself adjusting her bowstrings so none of the guys would notice her agitation. The party was winding down from its excitable peak. People were drinking less and talking less, and gathering informally near the groom and bride.

  Jonathan noticed the change in mood and suggested a Mozart piece. Ethan insisted on Tchaikovsky’s 1st String Quartet instead, a dissension rare enough that Ruby and Steve exchanged surprised looks. Jonathan met Ethan’s gaze for a moment, then nodded. The four of them had played together five years, long enough to communicate via brief eye contact and subtle expressions rather than words.

  Honestly, Ruby didn’t have words for her feelings at that moment, as the four of them began to play the lyrical Tchaikovsky piece, while the bride and groom gazed into one another’s eyes. The newlyweds had played with dozens of other people at the wild reception, with all their friends and guests, but now, this moment, they were exclusive to each other, expressing their deep, unshakable bond.

  The groom’s unicorn outfit was gone, his tux put back on but only half fastened, so he looked disheveled and sexy, and ready to fuck. The bride wore a long veil and a white negligee, her curvy, tattooed body covered, but not really concealed. Her wedding gown lay in a heap by the cake table, forgotten, not important
in the scope of their love for each other. The groom drew the veil around her, seductively brushing it against her skin.

  Ruby flubbed a note as the bride arched her head back and offered her neck for her husband’s kiss. Her cheeks burned as the others played on, not acknowledging her mistake. The groom opened his lips against his bride’s skin, and his teeth skimmed across her neck and jaw. It was vampirishly beautiful. Stunningly erotic. Oh God.

  She had to look away, or she’d stop playing all together. Or she’d play some crazy, screaming jumble of notes, noise and dissonance without sense. She was grateful now for the piece Ethan had suggested, and wondered if this was why he’d chosen Tchaikovsky rather than Mozart, so she’d have something reasonable to cling to as her emotions went batshit with jealousy, horniness, and a strange surge of bliss.

  The bride and groom’s slow, sultry make out session continued as all the guests watched, as the music played on, delicate and light. When they finished Tchaikovsky’s first movement, Jonathan signaled them to go on to the second. Ruby bit her lip as she turned the page, trying not to miss any notes in the meantime, because she wanted her performance to be perfect, as perfect as the couple’s love.

  What would it feel like, to be kissed that way by someone you’d hurt, who’d hurt you too in the name of pleasure? She thought it would probably feel spectacular. As the guests watched, as the quartet played, the couple whispered to each other and smiled, then the groom stood and swept his bride into his arms. Her veil trailed the ground as he carried her to the exit, acknowledging their friends’ cheers with a nod. She clung to his shoulders, her eyes locked on his as they left for a more private honeymoon suite.

  It just so happened that the Tchaikovsky piece was reaching its finale during their exit. She could see the satisfaction on Jonathan’s face—he had a great sense for the theatrical—but it was Ethan who’d suggested the perfect accompaniment to the scene. An emotional wave crashed over Ruby, and her eyes filled with tears. Oh God, she couldn’t cry. The guys would know if she did, because she wouldn’t be able to wipe her cheeks while she was playing.

  You idiot, she thought, getting emotional at the weirdest wedding reception ever. But it was also the purest, sexiest, and most eye opening. Definitely not stodgy like most of the other receptions they’d played. Fuck, she couldn’t shed tears. As the only woman in the Gold Quartet, she had to hold her own against the other three’s testosterone and male posturing. She had to be tough and strong, because they teased her when she acted too girly. She definitely couldn’t let them see her cry.

  Ethan moved his leg a few inches in her direction, a way to ask if she was okay, and she nodded without looking at him, because his gracious brand of sympathy would only push her over the edge. Pull your shit together, her inner critic chided. While she was an emotional violinist, she preferred to spend her energy on musicianship, not tears.

  When the final allegro drew to a close, Ruby’s eyes were clear again. The guests gave a light smattering of applause as they milled around the now-quiet space. With the bride and groom gone, they were finishing the last of their drinks, packing up their gear and, finally, putting their clothes back on. Ruby rested her bow on her music stand and looked at Ethan.

  He gazed back at her, a small smile tilting one corner of his lips.

  * * *

  “You could have warned us first,” Jonathan said to Steve when the quartet reconvened for a late dinner.

  The blond cellist shrugged and beckoned the bar for another beer. “I had no idea it’d be that kind of reception. But it was fun, wasn’t it? Interesting, anyway. Made me kind of horny.”

  “I’m sure you could score some wedding-guest tail.” Ruby nodded to a table across the hotel restaurant, where a pair of women ogled the tall, muscular musician.

  “We made good money on this gig,” Steve said, still defending the booking. “We got a free trip to Miami in the middle of winter, and rooms in this awesome hotel.”

  Ethan looked over at Ruby. “How are you doing, Rube?”

  “I’m okay.” They tended to be protective of her, partly because of the only-girl thing, and partly because she was a couple years younger than the rest of them. “Still trying to process some of the things I saw.”

  She said it like a joke, but meant it for real. Steve and Jonathan laughed, but Ethan… Damn Ethan, with his probing, thoughtful looks. She thought about the way he’d inched his leg closer to hers while they were performing.

  “I’ve already looked online for some unicorn fetish props,” Steve said, drawing her attention from Ethan’s regard.

  “Let me know when you get them,” Jonathan joked. “I’ll bring over my sparkly whip.”

  They joked some more about fetish and kink, like they joked about everything, but Ruby kept picturing the last scene between the newly married couple, with their close, beautiful connection. She felt Ethan’s gaze on her at various times throughout dinner, and had to stop herself from looking up at him constantly. Every once in a while, the Tchaikovsky melody would pop into her head.

  “I think that’s it for me tonight,” she said when the waiter came by to clear away their plates.

  “What do you mean?” Steve gestured to her mostly full martini. “You’ve hardly drunk at all. After a gig like that, we deserve to get wasted.”

  “We don’t get wasted on the road,” she reminded him.

  “And we have a flight tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock,” Jonathan said in his dick voice, mainly because Steve was sending increasingly flirty looks toward the pair of women across the room.

  “I think I’m going to head up with Ruby,” said Ethan. “We’ll catch you guys later.”

  Ruby and Ethan fell into step together as they left the restaurant, because they were old friends, but tonight, she felt a pull to him that was one hundred percent new. “After you,” he said, when the elevator opened.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, not wanting him to know she was thinking about his damn leg again, the way he’d moved it toward her just when she’d needed it. Such great instincts. And great thighs. He had an awesome body and beautiful eyes, and looked really freaking sexy in a tux. She wondered if he’d ever trailed his teeth over a woman’s neck.

  “Everything okay?” he asked as the door closed, trapping them in the elevator together.

  “Sure.”

  But she wasn’t okay, not really. She was feeling a lot of crazy things.

  2.

  When they reached their floor, Ethan walked with her down the hall and stopped at her door. “I’m right next to you,” he said, nodding at the adjacent room. “Nice hotel, huh?”

  “It’s beautiful,” she agreed, fumbling in her jeans pocket for her key card. “Miami’s great at this time of year.”

  “Better weather than Chicago, that’s for sure.”

  She found the card, but before she could open the door, Ethan put his hand on the knob. “Ruby? Are you really okay?”

  She nodded again, a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You keep saying you’re okay, but you’ve had this look on your face all night.”

  “Have I?”

  “Did the reception upset you more than you’re letting on?”

  “No. Well. It didn’t upset me.” She stared at the door since she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I wouldn’t use that word.”

  “Our clients hire us to mind our own business and play the pretty background music, but today was a little more…” He let go of the knob and leaned against the door. “More explicit than the average wedding reception, wasn’t it?”

  She snorted. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  “I could tell it was freaking you out a little. Maybe a lot. We should have stopped playing if you felt uncomfortable, or unsafe.”

  “I didn’t feel unsafe. I would have stopped if it was too much.” Even she could hear the defensiveness in her tone. “It’s just that it surprised me. I’d never experienced anything like that before.”

 
; He nodded, his blue eyes studying her features. “Okay. Well, if you want to talk…”

  She wanted to talk, but she was afraid of what might come out of her mouth.

  “How did you feel about it?” she asked, forcing herself to hold his gaze.

  “I thought it was interesting. It was good.” He scratched his chin and gave one of his cryptic half-smiles. “I’m all for people expressing their sexuality in positive ways.”

  “Oh, they were definitely doing that.” She swallowed, staring at his hand. Bad time to dwell on Ethan’s big, strong fingers, and the passionate way he played… “I thought the most beautiful part was at the end, when the bride and groom looked into each other’s eyes. I’ve never seen anything like that out in public. I felt like a voyeur.”

  “They were definitely into each other. That was really cool.”

  “And the Tchaikovsky worked perfectly in the background. Ethan, how did you know? You suggested the perfect song.”

  He shrugged. “The truth is, I know a lot of kinky people. Even been to a kinky wedding or two.”

  “Like that one?”

  “Not quite. I wish.”

  He wished? Oh God. Now he was lingering at her door, Mr. Dark, Gorgeous, and Possibly Kinky, scrutinizing her to make sure she was okay. She definitely wasn’t okay.

  “I’ve got to be honest with you,” she said, looking down at her key card. “I have all these questions now.”

  “I don’t mind answering them, if you want.”

  She tapped the card against the handle, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. “Well, I mean, they’re kind of complicated questions.”

  “Want to hang out for a while, then? Decompress?”

  His closeness was scrambling her brain. Ruby, you idiot. Unlock the door and invite him in. She waved the lock open, pushing the handle down way too hard when the green light flashed. Wow, so much to think about, above and beyond what had gone on at the reception. Ethan, her quiet, reserved quartet friend, knew “a lot of kinky people.” That meant he was kinky too, right? She definitely, definitely needed to know more about that.