F*ck Toy: A Dominatrix Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Sybil Swift

“Why didn’t you just tell us the truth?”

  A grunt of frustration came from the depths of his chest and he badly wanted to punch something. There was no way to describe the bone deep panic that had ripped through his synapsis when Polly and Mrs. Barrons’ had traipsed in the bedroom ready to do battle. His hackles had risen—he’d lashed out. No other way to describe it. When he knew they weren’t going to grant them more time together, he’d freaked, and verbal vomit had poured out of his mouth in any series of excuses just so long as she could stay with him. Instead, he’d fucked it all up. Never in his life did he want to take back his words more than when he’d said Chloe was fucked up and that he’d helped fix her again.

  He hadn’t meant it. Not like that. Hell, he hadn’t known what he’d meant, not even a little, he just wanted her to stay. Christ, he was an idiot. A bigger one had never been born.

  “I…I don’t know how…to fix it.”

  He’d practically rammed her worst fears down her throat. Noah shook his head and massaged the bridge of his nose right before his glasses. How could he possibly make his rejection of her—which was really the opposite—any better? They were both fucked up, but when they were together it worked, it worked so well her absence itched along his skin. At night all he could think about was her hands on his body, her words tracing his naked skin. Her short, hard commands whispered in his ear.

  It wasn’t only about the sex. He’d told her things, stuff he hadn’t spoken about in years.

  He wanted more of it. All of it.

  But he needed time. If he was going to do it, he had to do it right. There wouldn’t be another chance.

  * * *

  A month and a half later she hadn’t showered in days, she was eating nothing but bologna, and was sleeping in small cat naps—but Chloe had five glorious books to her name. And she had no off button. Writing had become a full blown addiction, only stopped for bathroom breaks and maybe to answer the phone if her mother was willing to buy her dinner at their building’s grand restaurant. The books weren’t currently racking up enough money to pay her entire rent, but it was enough to pay for her internet bill, a better laptop, and a cushy used chair that was big enough to curl up in like a cat.

  She was moving on up all on her own and it was one of the greatest—no, the greatest—thing she’d ever done in her life. She could pretend for the couple of seconds when her mind wasn’t caught on her characters or the next twist in her plot that Noah never mattered. That what she had with Noah was the worst idea for a fling she’d ever come up with and that every part of it had been wrong. So what if it felt right at the time? Hindsight was…wrong…something, something. Chloe curled up tighter in her chair and looked out over the skyline as the little lights twinkled from the giant skyscraper straight across the way.

  He’d called twice. No use in worrying how he’d gotten the number because his sister probably didn’t know about it and it was probably by a means that would get him in deep crap. Either way, she’d refused to answer. But it didn’t mean the ice cream in the freezer was safe or that popping in a Sheryl Crow CD wasn’t imminent or life changing. Whatever he wanted, she didn’t want it. She really didn’t need it—and she was doing fine on her own, completely fine. Every book she built on brought her closer to her dream of affording a real bed and erased the amazing scent of the sheets she’d rolled around in for a couple blissful days at breakup rehab on the beach.

  Noah was only a man. A replaceable man—no matter how many times he called.

  But if he kept it up she didn’t know how many more times she could ignore him in the face of the grand idea of verbally spitting in his face all over again. The very idea of sticking it to him again, it was kind of euphoric. Not because she was mean, but because…because it would feel good. It would feel right. And that was her main motivation in life, doing all of the things she’d never done because they might feel incredible and she might wind up liking it.

  Next time he called…God, if he called…it might be game on time. She shook her head out of the past and the phone broke through her brainstorming for the next chapter. Without looking at the caller screen, she passed her thumb over the button, too busy typing one handed to care who wanted to talk to her about missed bills.

  “Yeah?”

  Someone cleared their throat on the other line and Chloe held the phone away from her ear.

  “Can I help you?” she tried again, shoving a spoon filled with peanut butter in her mouth to raise up her comfort level. “I’m going to hang up if you don’t start talking. I don’t have time for this when I’m on a deadline.”

  “I’m sorry, Chloe. I didn’t mean to startle you, only, I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate me calling so out of the blue.”

  She paused in mid-mind-rant and scrutinized the slightly familiar voice over the phone line. The female voice rang a bell, but a gentle one. Nothing immediate.

  “Who is this speaking?”

  “Oh, cripes. I’m sorry, I should have…it’s Noah’s sister, the one who runs the retreat?” There was a pause, which Chloe supposed she was given to absorb the information, before Noah’s sister began talking again. But there wasn’t much to gather together, she was mostly numb. “I wanted to call and thank you for your hard work on the house. You really didn’t need to help and I’m grateful for the labor you put into my baby, even if I was a bit cranky the last time we met. I truly didn’t mean it, my emotions were merely circumstantial.”

  “Sure,” Chloe mumbled, non-committal, only half-engaged while she pushed the stabbing pain of Noah’s memory away. “But why are you calling way after the fact? For all you know I don’t even remember anything from that experience.”

  The small hairs on the back of her neck were standing up straight and she cleared her throat, fidgeting in the comfy chair in the corner of her apartment.

  “I’m sure you mean well, but cut to the chase. What are you actually after here?”

  Noah’s sister made small meditation noises and Chloe tried to take a deep breath, harnessing her inner patience. Today was not the day. Well, if she was going to be honest, this month was not the month and this year was not the year. No amount of measured breathing was going to make her want to spill her guts on the subject of what happened between her and Noah. That was a tough topic for the three notebook’s she’d amassed since she’d gotten back from her rehab adventure.

  “Are you still there?” This was the woman’s last chance, two seconds and she was hanging up to dig back into her writing for the day. “Please don’t make me be rude, I don’t know you from anyone else on the street and I kind of enjoy my karma being good.”

  “Noah’s on his way to come see you.”

  Chloe’s mouth opened and shut like a trap. She tried to form words, but she couldn’t think past the rush of blood that swallowed up her brain waves pressing tight against her temples. Her fingers went numb around the phone, until she almost dropped it to the hardwood floors.

  “He…he can’t be coming here. He has no idea where I live. That’s not possible.” Her denial was on autopilot. “Why in the hell would he want to see me? I sure as hell want nothing to do with him after this fiasco. What did he say to you?” Panic laced her voice until she couldn’t get a grip.

  “I assumed he got your mother’s address from our records here at the shore house. I pulled up his laptop to Google something because my computer wasn’t at hand and he’d left open the window for his bus ticket. I’m sorry, I wish I could have given you more notice, but I only just found out. Please, be…gentle, if you can, on him.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

  “Noah hasn’t been the same. Ever since you left he’s been a wreck, he barely leaves his room and when he does do anything, it’s as if he’s on autopilot. He’s completely useless.”

  “That’s not my problem. I have my life in order and he can’t come barging into it to wreak it, it’s not fair to either of us when he can’t get a grip on himself. I’ve been going to a
ctual, real therapy and I know what I want…and it’s certainly not his unstable asshole personality.”

  On the other end of the line there was a small noise and the phone was shuffled with a crackle of static that made her nose wrinkle.

  “I’m not telling you to take my jackass of a little brother back. He’s not exactly the poster child for stable, but, please, I’m begging you here, at least hear him out. Listen and then slam the door in his face. At least then he can come back knowing he tried and maybe the ten pound chip on his shoulder will dislodge enough for him to be more than a ghost of his former self. He needs this, it’s cathartic.”

  A noise of blind frustration pressed against Chloe’s lips but she managed to keep from chucking the phone across the room. Only because she wasn’t making enough in royalties to afford a new one.

  “He probably won’t even be able to find me,” she mumbled and covered her eyes with her hand.

  “Um, well, he figured you’d be near your mother so he’s coming to her building.”

  “And what if I don’t live there anymore?” Genuine curiosity kept her from hanging up.

  “I can only assume he’ll bother your mother until she gives up the goods on you.”

  “Mother isn’t his biggest fan.”

  “I don’t want to debate with you, Chloe. I can’t preempt his every move, but I can at least give you a heads up hoping you won’t send my baby brother back to me in pieces. Thanks for picking up and keeping me on the line. Anytime you’d like to come back during peak season time, give me a call, and it’s free of charge.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Good luck.”

  Before she could respond to that weirdness, the line went dead and she was enveloped in the silence of her apartment. What was stopping her from going to a cafe? Or a friend’s house? Anywhere that Noah wouldn’t have direct access that left him out of luck if he started randomly knocking on doors in the building. Security might not even let him up into the building if she issued a warning and a description…but she didn’t have it in her to cause that much drama when she could just as easily avoid him from somewhere other than her apartment. The idea of getting anything done today on her new book seemed entirely useless.

  Even if he wasn’t directly in her life, he was in every single one of her books, and she couldn’t work knowing the real muse was steps away from cracking open the safe haven of therapy and self-talk she’d clung to since she’d left relationship rehab. What was best for her sanity? Though she was tempted to call her therapist for the answer, she knew becoming reliant on her doctor for these types of issues would only make her less independent—not more, like she craved. Time to snap the elastic on her big girl panties and make a firm, adult choice.

  Did Noah have a chance in her heart? The fact that she thought about it, with a small pause, led her to believe that he’d burrowed deeper than she ever thought possible behind her walls. She’d been falling in love with him toward the end, ready to say the words. But his actions during their last brief time in shared space left her hollow, nothing that made her think she’d give him another chance. Yet, she couldn’t slam the door in his face. If only to hear him out, let him make his grand speech—and then slam the door in his face with much more of a sense of satisfaction. Let him know the ache of being blindsided, when her feelings had been in the right place while she was merely a “casual, good time”.

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to fly, not anymore.

  Maybe if she faced—whatever he was bringing to her door—she could start writing about men that existed only in her head, instead of the twisted, damaged one that dogged her every waking thought. Closure. Wasn’t that what the relationship rehab had preached? If understanding where he was coming from was the only way to stop taking money for therapy from her mother, then she could spare a few painful moments in Noah’s presence. If he could even find her—she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. That took a lot of the fun from a few things.

  He’d wanted her badly once before, subjugated on his knees and begging for her touch. Let him showcase how badly he was hurting by finding her without a light to guide him—maybe then he’d understand the hopelessness she’d lived with since she closed him out of her life. Because it wasn’t all about what she wanted, not when what she might want could destroy everything. As much as she’d been all for going for what she wanted with no regrets, wanting someone like Noah was also destructive because there was nothing casual anymore. No barriers holding them in place. The thinly veiled illusions had dropped away the second she was prepared to tell him her feelings and he’d gone in the opposite direction.

  It wasn’t her job to make his boo-boo better now that he’d come to his senses.

  With a small shake of her head, Chloe stopped staring into space and lit her meringue pie scented candle. She silently worked over an outline that she needed to formulate before writing her next book and focused on taking deep, even breaths of the dessert scented air—which was almost as good as going downstairs and buying a whole pie to eat all by herself. Except, not so much. But she could pretend, her imagination had gotten damn good since she’d gotten back from her surprise vacation to the beach. With a groan, Chloe planted her face on the keyboard and let her arms float uselessly at her side.

  Nothing was coming to mind and she was too taut to entertain the idea of relaxing while she waited for the Noah bomb to drop back into her life. She almost wished his sister had kept her trap shut so she wouldn’t know what was coming. Her phone buzzed and she flinched before fumbling to pick it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss. Pickard, there’s a package for you waiting down at the front desk. Please pick it up at your earliest convenience.”

  “Thanks.” She quickly disconnected the call and laced her shaking fingers together. “Now or never, for all you know it’s a present from mother.”

  True, she didn’t know that Noah would have sent a package instead of showing up in person, but maybe, hopefully, he knew her well enough to at least make their meeting an option. More on her terms, than barging into her life without warning. But maybe that was only wishful thinking. Either way she couldn’t ignore the summons to the lobby when she wasn’t getting any work done and curiosity made her chest tight until she heard the final ding of the elevator and stepped out into the grandiose lobby.

  It wasn’t until she was halfway across the marble floor that she realized she was still in sweats and house slippers. Noah had already caught her off guard and crawled into every aspect of her life…great. Normally she would have at least remembered to shuck her writing duds for regular pants and a hoodie. Oh well, she muttered her name to the front desk clerk and he slid a slim envelope across the desk with a polite, judgment free smile. But she couldn’t bring herself to open it until she was locked back in her apartment. The whole walk back to the elevator car and the whole ride up, she wondered if Noah was watching for her reaction. Not that he could hack the cameras in the elevator…but her mind wasn’t thinking too clearly given the situation.

  Her trembling finger eased underneath the envelope. There was a Starbucks napkin wrapped around another piece of paper and a blindfold. She read the napkin first.

  Come to the location printed on the ticket and blindfold yourself once you’re inside. I’ll be waiting for you and I’ll make it worth it.

  While she seriously questioned the validity of his statement and confidence, when she checked the ticket in her other hand her knees went a little weak. A ticket to a local James Bond marathon playing a couple blocks over from her apartment building in a retro theater that was newly restored. The blindfold was still a mystery, but she enjoyed the idea of wasting a whole day with a tub of popcorn in the company of a few sexy men. And the ticket was pricey—she’d wanted to go but was too squished by deadlines and bills to imagine taking the financial hit.

  “Whatever.”

  If she thought too hard she might wind up in corner, rocking herself to some sort of sanity
. And she’d seen too many movies to know the second someone rocked in a corner there was a serial killer not too far behind. Her thoughts jumbled together while she threw on whatever was presentable while also being comfortable enough to sit in for a few hours. Who knew, maybe Noah wouldn’t even show up and she’d get a free mini-vacation. Unlikely, but it would be a nice turn of events.

  Twenty minutes later she paid the cab driver, slid her ticket to the teller behind the window, and went into the theater picking a seat middle and back before tying on the blindfold. He better have a plan for a movie with a blindfold, because she really didn’t plan on missing any of the action with her free ticket. After a bit of fumbling the blindfold was in place, even if it was a little crooked, the theater was dark enough she couldn’t see much. Was she the only one here? Surely there were other people that would gawk at the awkwardly blindfolded woman going to the movies.

  There was a rustle to her left and Chloe tensed, digging her nails into the slightly sticky armrests. Why was she even entertaining his foolishness? Just went to show how much stock she’d actually put into their faux relationship, which made her even more ashamed. She struggled up, out of the chair until a hand landed on her shoulder and she nearly went on the attack.

  “Don’t leave yet.” His whisper trickled goose bumps up her arms and across her chest as she swallowed and cleared her throat.

  “You’re not providing the best argument for my staying put. I don’t even want to see you.”

  “Then why show up and follow my instructions? No one forced you.”

  She huffed spinning away from his grip. How could she have thought anything would change in the small amount of time they’d been apart. Here she was doing her best, purely for him, and Noah was rubbing it in her face. What a dick. If he couldn’t even be grateful, whatever she was trying to scrape together of their existing relationship could fall to the sticky floor—it wasn’t her responsibility to fix him. She had enough of a time fixing herself. His fingers flexed against her shoulders until she was forced off balance and she went tumbling back into his arms with her back cradled by his warm chest.