“And you’re not a masochist,” Abby said softly. “I’ve seen those intense scenes he does at the club.”
“That’s it. He wants—needs—more than I can tolerate. I can see his internal battle.”
“Mmmhmm. He usually plays with masochists who like a lot of pain.” Rona’s gaze was troubled.
“I know,” Lindsey whispered. “I can’t give him that. I tried, and I couldn’t.”
“No. And you shouldn’t try. Taking a little extra pain for your Dom’s pleasure is different from trying to satisfy a sadist,” Rona said.
“Did you talk to him about it?” Abby asked.
“Kind of. He says he’s fine, like it’s not something I should worry about.” How dumb was that? “If he doesn’t get to… Do a sadist’s needs go away?” Lindsey asked. Surely she could figure a way to fix this. She had to.
Abby bit her lip. “I don’t think so. Not even if the sadist tries to ignore them.”
“Oh.” The acknowledgment was like a cholla plant, the thorns painfully ripping into her heart.
She hung the garment back on the rack—she wouldn’t need something pretty after all.
* * * *
Near midnight, Lindsey was working the reception desk at Dark Haven. Her shift was almost over, and the number of incoming members had decreased to a trickle. With a sigh, she slumped in the chair. Her heart hurt and somehow was making all the rest of her hurt too. Ever since she’d talked with Abby and Rona, the world had seemed to darken, as if someone had drawn the curtains in a house.
The door squeaked open and thudded shut, and she looked up to see the masochist named HurtMe. He sauntered up to the desk and handed her his membership card. “Lindsey.”
“Hey.” She nodded at his PVC chaps and matching chest harness that showed off his lean muscles. “I like the look.”
“You should get some cowgirl gear. You have the accent to make it work.” He leaned a hip against the counter. “So…have you seen deVries today?”
She felt her face heat up. “Um…”
“Fuck, is he still screwing with you?” He sighed and patted her hand. “I’m sorry, Lindsey. I’d hoped he was over his snit.”
“Snit?” Seriously? She lifted her eyebrows. Did the word “snit” and the man named the Enforcer even exist in the same zip code?
“Like how he was using you to make me jealous.”
“What?” She swiped his card through the reader and slapped it on the counter. “Why would he do that?”
“I thought you knew. We were together—before you came along. The trouble was he didn’t want me playing with other guys.” He rubbed his hand over his lean, shaved chest. “I don’t think it’s right he’d use you to get me upset, you know?”
Zander had used her? Lindsey flattened her hands on her leather skirt. “I don’t get you. We are together.”
“Oh please.” HurtMe gave her a pitying look. “He’s punished a female off and on, but do you see him actually have a
real
scene with females? Seriously? No.”
“Whatever.” She forced her back to stay straight. “It’s none of your business what he does with me anyway, now is it?”
“Well, I guess not. Fine.” His mouth went flat. “I liked you, you know, and I thought you’d want to hear this before you made yourself into more of an idiot over him. Before everyone in Dark Haven finds out how you were played.” He snatched his card off the desk and stalked through the club entrance.
Used. Played.
She stared at the wall, seeing scenes unfolding. Zander with Dixon. With HurtMe. With johnboy. All men. Sure, Zander would flog or paddle a woman, but usually because Xavier had asked him to.
His intense sessions were always with guys, and rumors said Zander was bisexual. If he was serious about HurtMe, maybe Zander
had
used her to make the guy jealous. From the snipe in HurtMe’s voice, the maneuver was successful.
Feet in the chair, she curled her arms around her ankles, and laid her face on her knees.
Used.
The thought was like a fingernail digging into the unhealed sores inside her.
All the same, HurtMe’s assertions didn’t matter. Not really.
Breaking up with Zander was simply the right thing to do. They were getting too involved, and if Parnell or Ricks found her, there was a chance Zander might get hurt.
So…she was a danger to him, and she didn’t satisfy his needs. Couldn’t get much more straightforward than that, right? She stared down at her hands, watching her knuckles blur as grief welled up and filled her eyes with tears.
I can do this. I have to do this.
Nonetheless, when Zander walked in a few minutes later, she still wasn’t prepared.
“Ready to go, Lindsey?” he asked.
“Um… Hey.” She attempted to smile at him.
Eyes narrowed, he leaned over the counter. His fingers—so familiar a touch—curved to cup her chin. “You’ve been crying. Why?”
The authoritative demand of a Dom sent a shiver up her spine. She swallowed.
Do it now. Here.
If she left with him and tried to argue—face it, he could make her change her mind in a heartbeat. “Because I’m sad.”
The words kept sticking in her throat.
Get it out now.
“Because I’m not going to see you again.”
His fingers tightened on her face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
DESPITE FEELING SCRAPED raw all day, deVries had looked forward to seeing his little Texan. Her sense of humor, her caring, her warmth—being around her was like stepping into springtime. But what was this shit? He let go of her. As short-tempered as he was today, he needed to be careful. Patient.
Her face was pale, eyes haunted and wet with tears. She really was upset.
Gentling his voice, he rested his hands palm-down on the desk. “Okay, babe. Tell me what’s going on.”
“There are reasons why we’re…breaking up.” Actual grief shadowed her face. “Several, actually. Only there’s one difficulty we can’t get past. It’s impossible.”
“Go on.” Impossible rarely was.
“You’re a s-sadist,” she whispered.
“You knew that when we met. I’d never go beyond what you wanted. Not if you’re honest with me.” Unlike the way she’d been last night. One more thing they’d talk about.
“Yesterday, you stopped long before you were ready to. B-before you were satisfied.” Her raised chin defied him to deny her statement. Her quivering lower lip tugged at his heart.
Hell…this he hadn’t been prepared for. Perceptive, wasn’t she? And…hurting. She must feel as if she’d failed him. He softened his voice. “Satisfaction isn’t everything.”
“It is to me—when it comes to you. I’m not comfortable if you’re suffering. If you need something I can’t provide.” She reached out to touch him. Drew back.
Fucking submissive who wanted to give him…everything. Dammit, this wasn’t her choice to make. “We’re good. I’m good.”
“You’re not. I can see it.”
He growled. Wasn’t as if he couldn’t function without handing out heavy pain. S/M was a craving, not an addiction. Wasn’t like going hungry… More like giving up pizza or steak. Sucked to cut back, but other things were more important. “I fucking care for you.” The words sounded ugly. Harsh. Not how he’d figured on telling her.
The tears in her eyes overflowed. “And I care for you.”
He saw her lips firm. His gut registered the loss even before she whispered, “I won’t let you live handicapped because of me. I can’t. We’re done, Zander. Please… If you care, honor that.”
What the fuck? He straightened, staring at her. Just like that?
It was fun. We’re done?
If she’d really cared, she’d stick. She wouldn’t walk away for such a fucked-up reason. Anger flared, burning apart his shaky control. “Might have known. A relationship takes work. Aren’t many women willing to put out the effort.”
“Zander…”
“It’s
deVries
.” He leaned forward into her face, gritting out the words. “You got your honor, Tex. Hope it helps you sleep good in your empty bed.”
The ashes inside him settled over everything, turning his world gray.
“I’m so—”
He moved toward the exit and stopped at the sight of fucking-richer-than-God Ethan Worthington. Had she arranged to meet the other Dom there?
Even as he told himself he was being an ass, deVries glanced over his shoulder at Lindsey. Hand over her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Right
. His wife had done silent crying; hadn’t meant shit. Tamara had dumped him for a rich man who’d keep her in style without any
effort
on her part.
He glanced at Worthington, then Lindsey. “Looks like you won’t have an empty bed for long.”
He took little pleasure in slamming the door behind him.
On the street, the cold air slapped him in the face. Brought him up short, playing over his asshole words.
Fuck.
He suppressed the need to head back in and apologize. Fix things. Lindsey wasn’t Tamara—she wouldn’t play him that way.
She’d just dump him and cry. Would give up without even a fight.
“We’re done.”
Not fair. Not right.
Now what? He stopped, feeling the frustration growing inside him, needing an outlet more than before.
He couldn’t do a scene. His control was shot.
A bar fight, though… He studied the rowdy tavern down the street. Full of city boys. No challenge there. But he could visit some of the places by the docks.
He glanced back at Dark Haven—a haven no longer. Big brown eyes, trembling mouth, sweet words. She’d gutted him worse than a KA-BAR.
Yeah, he’d make the rounds of the dock bars. See if he couldn’t get his outsides battered up enough to disguise the pain inside.
* * * *
The slamming of Dark Haven’s door shattered Lindsey’s control. He wasn’t supposed to be mad at her. He should have been relieved.
“I can’t say I’ve seen deVries upset before,” Sir Ethan said. He walked around the desk and leaned his hip on the edge. Even with her vision blurry, she saw the concern in his clear blue eyes. He handed her a tissue from the box beside the computer. “What happened?”
Tears flooded her eyes faster than she could wipe them away. “H-he… I-I…” She made herself stop. Zander—DeVries—wouldn’t want to be talked about.
Why should she care? He’d been cruel…but only because she’d upset him. God, she’d really hurt him. Her lip trembled. He’d cared for her…more than she’d realized.
I changed my mind—come back.
No.
She couldn’t waver. This was for the best. It was. She pulled in a shuddering breath, wanting to hit her hands on the desk, to throw things, to scream to heaven.
Why—why is life so unfair?
Sobs boiled up inside her, impossible to subdue.
When Sir Ethan put his arm around her, she buried her face against his chest and cried.
With a low rumble of approval, he wrapped her closer, holding her firmly. As he rubbed her shoulder, he murmured soft words she couldn’t hear. Zander had done the same before, his hands rougher, his voice harsher, and God, she wanted him.
Can’t have him.
After a minute, Lindsey regained control and struggled to pull away.
Sir Ethan’s arms tightened for a moment before he let her go.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
His aristocratic expression was gentle as he used a tissue to clean her face. “You are very welcome, sweetheart. You can have my shoulder anytime. Or anything else you need.”
The warmth in his gaze said he meant the invitation exactly as it sounded.
The Dom was a walking, talking definition of gorgeous. Skilled, powerful, caring. She should want him.
And yet, her heart was set on Zander. Why had she ever wanted to be in love? It hurt—hurt far more than any whip a sadist could wield.
* * * *
Sitting at her small patio table the next day, Lindsey heard a knock on the duplex’s front door. A salesman? Probably not on a Sunday. Likely Rona and Abby. She didn’t care. Talking wasn’t what she had in mind.
Silence.
Good.
She dumped more light rum from the bottle into her glass and studied the color. Paler than it was dark meant more alcohol than Coke. Excellent proportions.
Something rattled, and Lindsey jerked around to see the wooden side gate swing open.
Abby and Rona walked through as if they owned the place.
Jeez.
“I thought this state had rules about rentals. Like giving twenty-four hours’ notice before using a key.” She glared at her landlady.
Abby smiled. “Oh, it does. Sadly there aren’t any laws governing the behavior of BFFs. Sorry.”
Shit, that was hard to answer. She scowled at Rona. “What’s your excuse for trespassing?”
“Same one. BFF—only I’m BFF number one since I’m older.” Rona sank down into a chair. “God. Joint Commission was here for the hospital survey. I think my feet are three sizes bigger.”
“Poor baby.” Abby checked the label on the bottle. “Rum sounds good. Have you got more Coke, and are you going to share?”
“Y’all are damn stubborn.” Lindsey considered getting up. Unhappily the door looked awfully far away. “Glasses are in the kitchen.”
Abby grinned. “I know where they are.”
“So you’re here because…” Lindsey prompted.
Abby reappeared with the glasses as Rona answered, “Because we were worried about you.”
“But…” She hadn’t called them, and Zander—deVries—sure wouldn’t. “How…”
“Sir Ethan talked with Xavier last night. Xavier talked with Simon,” Abby said. “Afterward, Simon talked with Zander.”
Uh-oh.
“Zander was…less than polite, I gathered. So Simon shipped him to Montana this morning to work on a security system.” Rona chortled under her breath as she poured a strong drink. “A blizzard is supposed to hit Montana tonight.”
“Serves him right.” Abby mixed herself a drink and topped off Lindsey’s with Coke. “Maybe his penis will freeze off and drop into the snow alongside his testicles.”
Oh God, they were blaming deVries for everything. Guilt pushed the alcohol aside. “He didn’t do anything. I…I was the one who broke up with him.”
“Because of what we’d talked about? Him being a sadist?” Rona asked softly.
Lindsey nodded miserably and gulped more of her drink.
“Sir Ethan said Zander was rude.” Abby set her glass down with a thump.