Authors: Sara Brookes
As the older brother Alex no doubt felt guilty as hell for
every bruise, black eye and fracture rib they had lived through and he’d done
nothing to stop the incidents. Her throat tightened in frustration. Her body
nearly moved across the room of its own accord, her fingers itching to smooth
the lines on his forehead that had formed even as he slept off his drinking
bender.
She was worrying about him far more than she should have,
but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to curl up against him and hold him
tightly against her as though it would make all his problems vanish into the
ether. Alex stirred with a heavy groan and she folded her arms in front of her,
grateful she hadn’t given in to her impulse.
“It is safe to come near?”
“What?” He drew out the question, his voice heavy and thick
with sleep and excessive amounts of liquor. In a different situation she might
have even thought it sexy.
She perched on the arm of the ancient couch Patrick had
stuffed in the office, balancing a fresh cup of coffee on her knee. “Well, in
the few blocks Dade and I carried you here, you propositioned me twice.”
“Shit.”
“And Dade once.” Alex groaned and covered his eyes. “It was
actually kind of cute. He would adjust his hold because you were still gyrating
around like you were some Broadway star then you’d try to grab his ass. When
you were just about to pass out, he had to shift his hold to pick you up. You
evidently saw an opportunity and kissed him. Tongue and everything. Never
really thought two guys going at it would be erotic. He said for me to tell you
he’s flattered and even though he swings that particular way, you aren’t really
his type.”
His fingers separated so he glared at her through the
openings. “You’re making this up.”
“Am I?”
“I can’t remember a thing about last night. Crap.” He
continued to eye her warily as he accepted the coffee she offered. “Strong
stuff.”
“I figured you could use something with a bit of punch to
get your system jump-started.”
His eyes widened in panic. “I need to open the shop.”
Leaning forward, she pressed a hand against his shoulder.
The bones shifted under his thin skin, causing her to automatically gentle her
touch. He felt as though he would break under her fingers. A fine-china doll
facing down a raging bull. “Relax. Michie is taking care of the last of the
afternoon rush.”
“Afternoon? Just what the hell time is it?”
She checked her watch. “Around one fifteen.”
“Holy shit. How did you—”
“I never gave the key back when your mom broke her ankle.”
Two years ago Sadie Conners had given them all a good scare by falling off her
porch trying to kiss a suitor. But the tenacious woman had powered through her
injury, running her bed-and-breakfast in Stauton with a firm hand from the
comfort of her couch.
“I’d forgotten about that.” He sipped as he settled back
against the cushions, his eyebrows lifting in surprise as he swallowed. “Good
stuff. Really good.”
“Should be. It’s your premium blend.” She stood, smoothing
her hands against the fabric covering her thighs. More to give her something to
do because she couldn’t seem to stop the compulsion to touch him.
But she couldn’t afford the luxury.
“I need to get back out there and help. Just relax. If you
rush you’ll just get sick again. Don’t need to make things any worse for
yourself than you already have. May want to switch to water afterward to
rehydrate. Otherwise you’re just going to be suffering for the rest of the
day.” She paused at the door, tapping her fingers against the doorframe. “I was
kidding about you propositioning Dade. And the kiss. But your rendition of
The
Time Warp
needs some work. Good pelvic action though. Shows promise. You
could probably give Tim Curry a run for his money if you keep practicing.”
Alex blew out a slow breath after he sipped his coffee. He
couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten so stinking drunk. College maybe?
Perhaps even as far back as high school. He’d never taken much interest in
slugging back drink after drink in the parking lot of the high school after a
football game.
Even less so when he’s started dating Vivian.
What will my friends think, Alex?
He winced at the memory. A lot of things he’d done and said
had been because of her. Because she’d been so worried about image and
reputation. At least he could count the time of his life as him being young and
stupid.
The excuse wouldn’t fly now.
Finishing his coffee, he carelessly tossed the blanket over
the back of the couch. He was grateful Patrick had insisted on hauling the
furniture into the office to at least give them a horizontal surface to sleep
on if they worked late into the night. He’d logged a lot of hours right here on
this very couch during the divorce even though Vivian no longer lived at the
house. He simply hadn’t been able to take the stale memories hanging in the
air.
As he grabbed his shirt he noticed something odd in the
mirror. He didn’t recognize the reflection. The man he stared at blinked when
he did, moved when he did, but the man looking at him was a complete and
absolute stranger.
He’d done this.
He’d allowed himself to become something he couldn’t even
distinguish.
The hollow realization he wasn’t happy punched him in the
gut. He was no better than a living shell simply going through the motions of
existing. In doing so he’d forgotten how to live. Footsteps sounded outside and
he slipped his shirt over his head just as someone knocked.
“You decent?”
“Yeah. Come on in.”
Turning, he found Elena peeking through the crack in the door.
“Feeling all right?”
“A little worse for wear. But I’ll recover.”
“Good. The rush seems to have thinned out some.”
“Elena, I need some help.”
She hesitated, but smiled. “Anything for you, Alex.”
He hauled in a steady breath, knowing he had to do this now
because he’d never find the courage to do it again. He’d accepted her avoidance
once, but this time it wasn’t an option. The knowledge he’d been a coward last
night would gnaw at his gut unless he did something to change his path. “Show
me.”
She blinked slowly a few times, her fingers tightening on
the door. “I don’t understand. What are you asking me for?”
“What you do. Your world. The BDSM. Whips. Chains. The club.
The works.” He spoke so fast the words ran together.
She pressed a hand to his chest, backing him into the office
before slamming the door shut. “Are you still drunk?”
“I’m perfectly coherent.”
Folding her arms in front of her, she gave him a hard glare.
“I know you came to the club looking for…something. But, Alex, if this is some
desperate attempt to fill—”
“It’s not. I swear.”
Her green eyes bored into his for a long minute as though
she was studying him, looking for a reason why he’d asked this of her again. “I
have to go.”
Panicked, his hand clamped around her wrist. “Please.” Even
he heard the desperation in his voice. This sort of approach was wrong, but
there was nothing he could do to take it back now. All he could do now was
mitigate the damage. He needed for her to understand how serious he was about
discovering this piece of himself. How big this hole inside him felt. How
desperate he was to feel as though he wasn’t broken anymore.
“Don’t do this, Alex. Not to me and most especially to
yourself. You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking and what it entails.” She
opened her mouth to cut him off, but he plowed ahead. It was as if the dam had
burst and it was impossible to plug the leak. “Despite what you think
otherwise, I do. I wouldn’t have gone to the club in the first place if I hadn’t
had some idea of what I’d see in there. I may not know what I want exactly, but
I need to start somewhere.”
“You know the surface, Alex. The pretty sheen across the top
the general public wants to believe so they can pretend a world where people
get off tying each other up or using whips to consensually hit someone doesn’t
exist. Which means you don’t know jack shit.” She pushed away, her anger
evident.
“So I don’t know. It’s not a crime. I bet you started at the
bottom too.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “I feel responsible for what
happened at Element. I want to make it up to you. Maybe I can even learn
something about myself along the way.”
She scowled and shook off his hold. “I’m all for a man being
altruistic for someone, but this is fucking ridiculous, Alex. Did all the
alcohol pickle your brain?”
“Please sit down, Elena.” When she didn’t budge he sighed
and brushed a hand over his face. It was time to confess to things he hadn’t
told anyone. Not even Patrick. “Do you know why Vivian left?”
“Not exactly, no. Something tells me I will in five minutes
though,” she said snidely.
“Things in the bedroom where never very cohesive for us.”
Elena blew out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “I really don’t
want to hear about your sex—”
“Hear me out,” Alex interrupted. “Vivian and I worked for a
while. At least I like to think we did. We both thought things would change
after we got married.”
Her arms dropped, but she listened, her body a tight string
of irritation. “But they didn’t—did they?”
“Oh they did, but not for the best. Do you know I walked in
on Patrick once? He was…entertaining female company. I needed a book I’d left
on a table in his room and let myself into his house because I didn’t know he
was there. Or had someone tied up to a chair. It was the middle of the day for
fuck’s sake.”
He shook his head as he remembered the night he argued with
Patrick about how wrong what he’d seen was. No man had the right to hold a
woman at his mercy as he drew pleasure from her captivity. How disgusting and
perverse it was.
How times had certainly changed.
“People do have sex at all hours,” she retorted.
“Not Vivian.” He met her gaze, noticing the gold and hazel
flecks of color in her eyes for the first time. He swallowed carefully, knowing
he’d already opened an embarrassing can of worms. “Saturday night after ten
with no lights on. Once every few months if I was lucky. My birthday was always
a special treat.”
“A celebratory blowjob?”
“Hardly. Getting Vivian to wrap her mouth around my dick
would have taken some kind of miracle. Or an act of congress. She considered most
of my body foreign territory. Unless she was using it to get off the once or
twice a year she wanted, she couldn’t be bothered to see to my needs. Ask what
I wanted. No, my birthday was always the one night of the year we didn’t have
sex in the missionary position. For this special occasion I was allowed the
distinct pleasure of staring at the back of her head while we lay on our
sides.”
Elena sat with a hard thud, her annoyance evidently
forgotten. “Jesus.”
“Exactly.”
She waved her hand at him. “I’m sorry, I’m being judgmental
and that’s not right or fair. I liked Vivian. Once.”
“It’s all right. I know you didn’t care for her much.” Vivian
hadn’t cared for Elena either, so he’d done his best to keep the two women away
from each other. A fact that he felt had irrevocably harmed his friendship with
Elena.
“Anyway, after I turned four shades of red and apologized
profusely to both Patrick and his guest, I left. But it got me thinking. Spent
the next few months doing research online. Which led me down a few paths I wasn’t
sure about. So I asked around in some anonymous forums and figured what the
hell, it couldn’t hurt to try something new. Anything was better than nothing.
It took me nearly a year to work up the courage. Nearly another year afterward to
actually ask. Mostly because I already knew the answer.”
“She didn’t take it well, then?”
Alex’s chest tightened as he remembered. “The night I asked
is the night she moved out.”
“Oh Alex. Vivian is a shell of a woman who had no idea how
to communicate and damn it, I’m sorry. I’ll shut up now. Better yet, I’m going
to go.” She grabbed the bag she’d stowed next to the door. This time he made no
move toward her as she slung the case over her shoulder.
“You never answered me,” he reminded her with a quiet sigh.
“There isn’t an answer to give you.”
“I need…
damn it
. I need to know, Elena.”
“Know what? Your ex-wife is a coward? A callous woman who
didn’t deserve you or the life you tried to offer her? I think that’s pretty
evident.”
He wasn’t sure what to tell her to make her understand he
was serious. He wasn’t asking just because he needed to fill some void in his
life. Sure, he’d been attracted to Anne, gyrating and moving around the bar in
his perverted daydreams, but he needed something…else.
“I need to know if I’m right. If I need this kind of thing—”
“To what?” she spat out. “Save your marriage? It couldn’t
have because less-than-vanilla sex had nothing to do with it. Vivian used what
you asked as a weapon against you. It was an excuse to give her an out. Frankly
you’re better off without her.”
He looked up then, saw the anger darkening her expression.
He couldn’t decide if the emotion was for him or for Vivian. “Would you rather
I go to Element and offer myself to the first willing Domme?”
She didn’t appear fazed by his question. “No, of course I
don’t want you to. But, Alex, this isn’t the answer you’re looking for.”
“All right, Obi Wan.” She snorted. “But don’t you think I
should decide instead of having you tell me? This is hard enough as it is,
Elena. I’m still coming to terms with the fact what I thought I wanted really
isn’t true at all. Do you think I woke up one morning and decided I wanted to
be the one tied up? That I wanted to be dominated after everything my father
put me through? Talk about a fucking head trip.” She was quiet for so long Alex
was certain he’d ruined everything. “At least come by the house later so we can
talk. I need some help figuring this all out.”