by Lynda Aicher
“It is when everyone tells you you can’t have it.” He raised he brows. “Am I right?”
She narrowed her eyes and stared him down for a moment. The muffled chime of a cell phone notification filtered into the room from her purse. Her focus swung to the counter where her stuff lay, a frown pulling her lips down. A second later, she shot him a smile as she shoved away from the counter. “Oh, heck yeah.” She swiped up her clothes and headed for the bedroom. “What are you waiting for?” she called. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twelve
Quinn sat in a sunny spot on the couch in her rental, absorbing the warmth of the rays that pushed back the ever-present chill that always seemed so close to the surface here. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine being back in the heat of sunny California. In truth, that was all she missed about her home.
She tucked the blanket closer and curled her feet under her until she was nothing more than a little ball on the sofa. It was deadly quiet. She could turn on the television or play some music, but the silence was nice. It was hers. After being surrounded by people, lights and noise most of her life, the quiet was good.
Just like bingeing on the calorie-laden breakfast sandwich and greasy hash browns she’d had yesterday. She’d shocked her digestive track with the sudden onslaught of unhealthy food, but it’d tasted heavenly. And she’d kept it down, despite the conditioned response to do the opposite after indulging like that. It’d been worth it. Fun. When was the last time she’d had fun eating?
She smiled into the bright rays, the memory filling her with a warmth that was better than the sun. Marcus was spinning her life in circles until she was dizzy with happiness. Yet she was also queasy from the quickly changing motion.
She slipped her hand back to rub one of the bruises on her butt. She should be mad about them, but she wasn’t. Every time they hurt, it did exactly what Marcus said it would. It reminded her of him. Of the night and the amazing high and orgasm he’d given her. But most of all, of the tender way he cared for her after.
Last night he’d been surprisingly attentive as they took in multiple shows at the club. She couldn’t quite explain her disappointment that they hadn’t done another Scene. Instead of being more intense with her, he’d backed off, leaving her to wonder if she’d only imagined his interest. Yet his heated kiss at the end of the night had left her breathless before he’d sent her home. Which was better, right? She shouldn’t get attached to him or even begin to like the things he’d done to her. It was crazy, stupid and a lie. This was supposed to be an act—a role—not real.
She could argue and baulk, but she was already his. No one had ever treated her the way Marcus did. In all aspects. And overall, it was really nice. He might be her Dom, but he was also becoming her friend. But what about her lover?
He made her want more. But more what, she was still figuring out.
Heaving a sigh, she pushed her arms free of the blanket and scrolled through the email on her cell phone. She typed in replies to the inquiries from Martin and Jewels regarding her training, the club and her upcoming job. The quick note she shot off to her mother was simply a preemptive strike before any complaints were fired to her lack of text responses. Yes, she’d be home for Thanksgiving dinner. No, she hadn’t heard the latest gossip around the newest teen queen—the one who had replaced her on the star list. Yes, she’d talked to Martin, her manager, regarding the television series. And more—there was always more with her mother.
The rest of her inbox was filled with spam and other random messages about parties or who was going to what club. She had a lot of acquaintances in Hollywood, even a few she’d call real friends. And most were caught up in the party circuit of being seen. Quinn had no real interest in that anymore.
She’d exhausted that venue by the time she’d turned twenty-two. It’d been nothing for her to get into the clubs before she’d been legally allowed. Heck, her manager was the one who’d gotten her the fake ID. And like everything, it got tiring and redundant after a while. Everyone was always putting on an act based on what others expected. But then, what else would one expect in a city of actors?
After glancing through her social media sites to see what Jewels had posted, she finally pulled up her contacts and found her brother’s number. It was Saturday. Maybe he’d be out. But she’d put the call off since she’d arrived. If she didn’t do it now, she never would.
Quinn sat up, wiped her palm on the blanket and took a breath before she pressed the number and waited for the call to go through.
“Hello? Quinn?” Her brother’s voice was lower than she remembered and the simple sound of it clenched her throat into an aching, dry pipe. “Is that you? Are you okay?”
The rising panic in Lance’s questions motivated Quinn to respond. “Lance? Yeah, it’s me.” Her hand shook and she fisted it around the blanket to keep it still. “How are you?”
“Me? I’m fine. Why are you calling? Is it about Mom?”
She reminded herself not to be hurt by the instant assumption that she’d only call if something was wrong. She hadn’t expected this to be easy. “I’m fine. Mom’s fine. Everything’s fine.” She wet her lips and exhaled. “I’m just calling to say hi.”
There was a long silence, and Quinn closed her eyes, hoping her brother didn’t hang up. A soft “Oh” finally came through the line. “Hi, Quinn.”
“Hi, Lance. How are you?” She’d already asked that, but it seemed like a good place to start again.
Her brother cleared his throat and somehow that reassured Quinn. “I’m good.”
“How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine.” There was another pause. “He remarried, you know,”
“Oh. No.” Quinn bit her lip. “I didn’t.” It didn’t surprise her that she didn’t know that. Honestly, she knew pathetically little about either of them. She pushed on. “I’m actually in town for a bit and thought we could get together at some point. Maybe have dinner or something.”
“Here? You’re in Minneapolis?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
The question sounded suspicious, and Quinn gave a soft laugh. “I’m doing some research for an upcoming role.”
“Oh,” Lance breathed. “Thank you for calling.” For the first time since he’d answered, there was real warmth and honesty in his voice.
She squeezed her eyes closed to hold back the forming tears. “I should’ve called a long time ago.”
Lance puffed out a snort. “So should’ve I.” There was another pause before her brother said, “So, hey. I’m in the middle of something. When are you free this week?”
Quinn heaved a sigh of relief. They made plans to meet for dinner on Wednesday and their conversation ended. She clicked the phone off and relaxed into the couch. Wow. She was going to see her brother again.
They’d exchanged emails and pictures over the years, but those had both trailed off to yearly Christmas and birthday messages with brief updates on their lives. They had nothing in common and very little to build on. Maybe things could change.
The silence settled around her once again and it was wonderful. She’d been here for almost two weeks and she still wasn’t tired of being alone. But she wasn’t really alone.
There was Marcus, who was becoming so much more than she’d expected in her life. And now there was her brother. Maybe. It was more than she’d had a week ago.
She glanced at the clock and heaved herself off the couch to get ready. What did one wear to a coffee get-together? She had no idea. Random invites to someone’s house for coffee weren’t part of her normal social calendar. Causal would be assumed, but how casual?
Quinn shook her head. Did it really matter? She didn’t even know these women. Vanessa had only told her the women’s names and the fact that they were all dating owners of The Den. She’d also assured Quinn that she’d learn a lot from the three women if she was willing to talk to them.
She picked out a pair of slacks and a cashmere turtlen
eck sweater. The blue enhanced her eyes and the high neck would hide her almost-faded hickey. The damn thing wouldn’t go away. Yet she still got a warm thrill whenever she saw it.
She turned around and edged her panties down until she could see the two bruises in the mirror. The crop marks were better. Marcus had been right about that.
They were her little secret.
* * *
She stared at the plain white door and took a firm breath before knocking. Quinn wasn’t certain about this meeting, but there hadn’t been a good reason to get out of it either.
The door jerked open to reveal an open, welcoming grin on a woman Quinn guessed to be in her early forties. Her straight, blond hair was cut into an efficient bob that brushed her shoulders and seemed appropriate for the dark purple sweater set and black slacks. She reminded Quinn of the perfect television mother—warm, friendly and welcoming to all strays.
“Quinn. Come in.” She waved her through the entry. “I’m Cali. Kendra’s already here, and I’m sure Allie will be around soon.”
Quinn returned the pleasantries and followed her down the short hall that emerged into a family room and kitchen area. The open floor plan gave the condo the impression of being larger, while the cozy furniture and rich paint colors provided a distinct homey feeling.
“Hi.” A tall, thin woman rose for the dinner table and extended her hand. “I’m Kendra. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Quinn replied. Even wearing her customary three-inch heels, she had to look up at the other woman. Kendra was taller than the average female, with the smooth grace of a dancer. Her ash-blond hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that fell down her back in a straight plunge. Quinn couldn’t help staring at the clean, open features of the woman, which were surprisingly makeup-free and gave an authenticity to her that stumped Quinn. She hadn’t left the house without makeup since she was fourteen years old.
“Do want some coffee?” Cali asked from the kitchen. “Or I’ve got water, soda and I think some juice.”
“Coffee’s fine. Thank you.” The rich scent filled the room and meshed with the pumpkin smell coming from the lit jar candle on the cluttered countertop. A stack of woodworking magazines were heaped next to a pile of manila folders, a set of pliers, sunglasses and other random items that seemed to have nowhere else to go.
“Sorry about the mess,” Cali said, waving her hand toward the clutter. “Jake moved in a month ago and we still haven’t figured out where to put everything.”
“Oh.” Quinn jerked her gaze away, her cheeks warm. “I wasn’t...” She trailed off, not sure what to say. She’d actually been thinking how nice and lived-in it looked, but she couldn’t say that.
Cali just laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I should’ve remembered what it was like to live with a man, but three years of living on my own seemed to have wiped the memory away.”
“Yeah,” Kendra agreed. “I’m still enjoying my own space. I might be at Deklan’s a lot, but I love coming home to my place.”
Quinn gave a faint smile. Again, it was a foreign concept for her. The oversized housed she called home was really her mother’s space. Her sanctuary was restricted to her bedroom suite. It was past time she moved out, but for some reason she never had. With the thought of her mother, she grabbed her cell phone from her purse and quickly silenced it before tucking it back away.
A sharp rapping on the sliding glass door had them all jerking around. The door slid open and a bright, smiling woman with a head of spiraling curls bounded in with the waft of cool fall air. “Hey,” she said looking around. “Sorry I’m late.” She strode across the room and extended her hand. “You must be Quinn. I’m Allie.”
Her handshake was firm and quick, but still sincere in an efficient way. It was a professional’s greeting that Quinn identified immediately. “Yes. That’s me.”
“We’re glad you could join us.” Allie spun away and made herself at home in the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water from the refrigerator door. “How has your week been at the club?”
So it was time for the inquisition to start. At least they hadn’t dragged it out and pretended to be nice until they got what they wanted.
Quinn gratefully accepted the coffee mug from Cali and followed Kendra to sit next to her at the table. “Fine,” she said after taking sip of the hot liquid. Grabbing the offensive, she leaned back and met the gaze of each of the women around the table. “Why’d you invite me here?”
“To talk,” Allie said with a shrug. “That’s all.”
Cali rolled her eyes then smiled at Quinn. “The three of us do this every Saturday if we can. Jake told me about why you were at the club, and I thought maybe you’d like to talk to us about our experiences in the BDSM world.” Her brow wrinkled when she frowned. “Didn’t he explain that to you?”
“Actually, it was Vanessa who contacted me about this meeting. She only told me it would be another avenue of research I might find interesting.” Quinn had expected them to be fans in disguise trying to get an exclusive when she’d first heard the invite, but The Den’s PR rep had assured her that wasn’t the case.
“Sorry about that,” Cali said, her frown morphing to a gentle smile. “Maybe we should start from the beginning.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m Cali Reynolds. I have two kids in college, I run my own bookkeeping business and I’m also Jake’s girlfriend and his submissive. Jake is one of The Den’s founders and we’ve been together for a year now.”
“And I’m Kendra Morgan.” The woman’s smile was a bit more guarded than other two. “I’m with Deklan. I’m a...masochist and, as of August, a middle school counselor.”
Quinn looked to the third woman to find Allie staring at the table, her lips pressed thin. After a second she blew out a breath and met Quinn’s gaze with a determined expression. “I’m Allison English.” Another breath. “I’m a partner in a local law firm and I’m in a relationship with two men who are both dominant, but I wouldn’t call myself a submissive.”
Okay. Wow. She hadn’t been expecting any of that. Usually it was her who was rolling out details and facts about herself. This was different. Cool. She shifted in her seat and tried not to wince at the tender reminder of Marcus. She took a sip of coffee and sunk into an interviewer role. Now that she knew the part, she could get behind it. “In that case, do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
“No,” Cali said. “That’s why we invited you.” Her expression was open and appeared sincere.
Quinn leaned forward, her excitement simmering at the unexpected opportunity. Talking to other women in the world would be excellent research. That was what she told herself. It had nothing to do with understanding her own confusing thoughts. But instead of going for the deep questions, she started with something simple. “Can I ask how old you are?”
Cali shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’m forty-five.”
Quinn had to work to keep her surprise from showing. Cali was almost as old as her mother, not that either woman looked it. Her mother’s agelessness had been achieved through discreet surgeries and injections that she doubted Cali had ever considered.
“I’m the youngin’,” Kendra said with a shrug. “I’m thirty-one.”
“Oh, good lord,” Allie scoffed. “You make thirty-eight sound ancient.”
“Hey,” Cali protested, giving Allie a shove on the arm. “Then what’s forty-five?”
“Over the hill.” Allie grinned. “I thought you knew that already.”
The bubbly laughter of the three women filled the kitchen and surround Quinn in an unexpected circle of exclusion. Their friendship was easy and obviously close in a way she’d never shared with another.
“Then I must be a pup in your eyes,” Quinn said, trying to join in. “I’m only twenty-five.”
Cali banged her forehead on her palm. “Don’t tell me that.”
Quinn found herself laughing with the other woman at her obvious misery. “Why
?”
Cali looked up, brushing her hair away from her face. “My daughter isn’t much younger than you and the image of her bending over for a Dom doesn’t mesh in my head.”
“Oh.” Quinn was instantly self-conscious. The lightness she’d felt for a second was gone. “I’m sorry.” She pushed back the chair. “Maybe this won’t work.”
“No. Wait.” Cali reached across the table to grab Quinn’s wrist. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Really, your age isn’t a problem. It was a badly played joke on my part.”
“Quinn, stay.” Allie’s calm voice held that professional edge that once again had Quinn listening. “We’re here to help. We can give you some different perspectives of the BDSM world if you’re interested. We all know from experience that it can be emotional and confusing at first. This is our attempt at helping you understand.” She paused then added. “For your role, of course.”
That pause was telling and struck exactly as the lawyer had intended, Quinn was certain of that. The sham of playing the submissive role didn’t seem to be fooling anyone anymore. “What do you mean by that?” The defensiveness edged her voice with the sharp, prickly barbs that normally kept attackers at bay.
Allie didn’t back down though. She simply studied Quinn with a level intensity that had Quinn’s skin crawling in panic. “Nothing,” Allie finally said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about BDSM, it’s that the very foundation is based on trust and honesty. And that means the first step is being honest with yourself.” She barked out a harsh laugh and shook her head. “Trust me. I know.”
Quinn wanted to counter that personal honesty didn’t mean she had to bare her soul to virtual strangers, but didn’t. That kind of snippy comeback would only prove the other woman right. It also wasn’t the point. They were being nice and trying to help and maybe she should just accept that at face value.
“Okay. I’ll stay.” She held Cali’s gaze. “As long as you’re certain it doesn’t bother you.”
Cali waved her off. “I’m fine. It’s actually harder to reconcile your TV image with this grown-up version of you.”