From Sir, With Love

by Rachell Nichole

“So, let’s chat about this whole, sharing submissives thing.”

  He sighed. “You’re just not gonna let that one go, huh?”

  “Nope. Tell me about it. I feel like we’re past the point where we should really try keeping things from each other. After you fucked me senseless with just your hands.” She cocked her head, as if daring him to deny the fact that was exactly what he’d done.

  “I don’t know that it was necessarily sharing submissives. I was never in relationships with the women.” Until Renee. That was the only time he’d wanted more from their arrangement. And it had taken his brother from him long before the man’s death.

  “How did it start?”

  Oh, no, he was so not going there. He shook his head.

  She pushed away her half-eaten bowl of salad. He’d already finished his. He’d needed something to do with his hands and mouth that didn’t involve his newfound obsession.

  “Thanks for the snack,” she said. “I think I’ll go to bed.” She turned around, and no matter how much he knew he’d regret it later, he rushed after her. He pulled her body back against his and she hissed.

  “Come finish your snack, you little minx. I’ll tell you.” He said through clenched teeth.

  When she turned around to face him, she wasn’t smiling, exactly, but he could see it in her eyes. She knew she’d won this little battle of wills.

  He walked back to the kitchen island and she picked up her bowl. She held it up and started munching again, so he started, “I was barely eighteen when Benson introduced me to a friend of his, a Dominant who used to teach whipping classes at this club in Vegas.”

  He sighed. He did not want to be telling her this story.

  “Why? Seems like an odd thing to rope your kid brother into. Sorry, that was a bad pun.”

  “Because I had some... shall we say anger management issues. And he thought it would be good for me to learn to control them.” That was the truth. If a watered-down version of it. It skipped the part where he’d almost killed someone. Where Benson had had to save his ass from manslaughter charges by saving the kid he’d beaten half to death. The other teen had come after one of Leo’s friends, taunting and teasing Vern for being too much like a girl, shoving him around, grabbing Vern by the crotch to prove he was a boy. It had been too much and Leo had seen red. He’d gone after the bully without a second thought, intent to make him pay. Thank God Benson had gotten there before it was too late. The other kid was an asshole, sure, but did he deserve to die because of it? That wasn’t Leo’s call to make.

  “Hey, Leo,” Evangeline’s voice broke into the memory of the worst day of his life, snapping him back to their kitchen. “Where’d you go?” Her empty bowl sat on the counter between them.

  He shook his head. “My anger was out of control. I’d... hurt someone. Badly.” He couldn’t believe the words actually came out of his mouth. Benson had stopped the bleeding, gotten the sixteen-year-old to the hospital, and made sure the jerk was okay. Head wounds bleed a lot, but Leo had been too enraged to care how much damage he’d inflicted. He just wanted the bully to pay for that terrified look in Vern’s eyes. The kid made it with a concussion, and a bunch of bruises, but nothing else. If Benson hadn’t arrived, Leo was sure that he would have just let the kid lie there and bleed out.

  And that was a terrifying thing to know about yourself.

  Evangeline’s hand landed on the back of his and gave a little squeeze. “Is that why you looked at me all guilt-ridden before?”

  He nodded, without looking up. “You can’t even sit down.”

  She laughed and his gaze flew to her face. “That’s, like, normal after being orgasmed to within an inch of your life. It’s not my ass that’s too sore for me to sit in those hard wooden chairs. It’s... other pieces of me.”

  He laughed with her then. He negotiated with his bottoms. Always. And he only played with ones who liked the pain he inflicted. Those who needed it. That is, up until tonight. “Oh.”

  She gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “So, this Dominant taught you the ropes, so to speak.”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “And I found that playing with a bottom, spankings, whippings, croppings, orgasm control, those things allowed me to not be so angry all the time, you know?”

  “Boy do I ever.”

  Her gaze skittered around the room, looking anywhere but at him. “Since we’re being all Sunday afternoon talk show, I guess there’s something I should tell you.”

  He waited. He knew that he should just tell her he already knew. That he’d known this whole time. Not saying it, even now, when she was on the precipice of telling him anyway, still felt like a betrayal.

  “I have anorexia.” The words that had taken her years to be able to even say, slipped out with ease this time.

  “Oh.”

  She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “And you’ve known this...”

  “Since before I got here, yeah.” The guilt was plain on his face.

  She shouldn’t be surprised, really. She’d suspected as much, but having those suspicions confirmed still made her feel just a hint of shame. She knew he’d been focusing too much on her eating. She could have chalked it up to just taking care of someone grieving. It was normal for the grief ridden to forget to eat and that sort of thing. But she’d known. She just hadn’t wanted to face it.

  She also knew she had nothing to be ashamed about. It just took some convincing of that fact sometimes.

  “Right. Okay. That’s that, then, huh.”

  “Yup. I beat people who like it so I don’t accidentally kill someone.”

  “And I became your brother’s submissive because allowing him to control what I did and didn’t do with my body was the easiest way for me to conquer my anorexia.” She had never admitted that aloud. Not even to Benson. He had just taken over for her when life became too much. When she’d been released from the in-patient facility, and she was doing therapy as an out-patient, it had become too much. All of a sudden, she was no longer battling the anorexia back. She’d been drowning in the neurosis of it. He’d waded in and thrown her a life raft.

  Their connection had been instantaneous. “He took one look at me, sitting alone in the corner of a hospital waiting room, and brought me hot chocolate. Little did he know that I was literally wasting away to nothing and would refuse to drink or eat anything in front of anyone. I was so sick at that point. I couldn’t think straight. Even after months of therapy. I’d tried to go back to school. Being at med school was like... a fucking breeding ground for terrible habits, neurosis, basically working yourself to death.

  “I’d made it a habit of eating just enough to not pass out in my classes; I knew right where that line was, and I toed it every day, just like I had before I’d been hospitalized.” She shook her head as it all came pouring out of her. Not even her therapists got this much out of her in one session. “And then, there was Dr. Hastings. In that white coat, with that indulgent smile, and kind eyes. He wrapped my hands around the hot chocolate cup, guided it to my mouth, and told me how much I needed it. How good for me it would be.”

  Leo’s hand turned in hers, so that instead of her gently squeezing him, they were holding hands. She stared at their joined hands as she continued, “And that was it. I mean, I was sick afterward. Really sick. That hot chocolate was too rich for a system that had been sustained on water and broth and little else for days. But he helped me clean up, then took me into a room, hooked me up to an IV, and ever so gently asked me a million and one questions.”

  “He always had the way of making people talk, even when they didn’t want to,” Leo said when she quieted. “He knew when to speak up, with that quiet, even voice of his, and when not to, to let someone stew in their own silence until they cracked. If he hadn’t been such a damned good doctor, he would have made a hell of a cop.”

  She laughed. He was right. But it was so hard to picture her mild-mannered Master as a police officer.

  “So, what happene
d after the million and one questions?” Leo prompted when she stayed quiet, proving once more just how different he was from Benson. His brother would have let her sit there, let the silence build until she couldn’t stand it any longer and spilled her next thoughts.

  “He took me home.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t a kid, but... I was young. Even though I’d always been the baby everywhere I went. I mean, I was already in med school. I’d been in college still in my mid-teens, and then enrolled in med school right from there. So, it wasn’t like I was innocent or anything. But I certainly had no business moving in with some forty-year-old man. I’m lucky he wasn’t some psycho! At that point, I seriously would have done anything to get out from under my mother’s roof.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “It’s not that I blame her for the anorexia. Because that’s not fair. But she did not know how to help me with my disease. She had crash dieted my entire life. The habits I picked up from her, I honed, and honed, and honed, until I was sure I had the perfect diet solution. And she pushed. I mean, I was gifted.” It sounded like she was bragging, but it was simply the truth. “You know, like really book smart. And she pushed for me to excel, to embrace that intelligence and pursue things that fourteen-year-olds shouldn’t be pushing themselves for, like perfect SAT scores and college degrees. And I let it become all-consuming. This need to always be perfect. I was so stupid.”

  “Hey, if you can’t blame her you can’t blame yourself either. It’s an illness. If you had diabetes, would you blame yourself for that?”

  “Now you’re starting to sound like Benson.” She smiled as she said it, but when she caught his eye, there was a shadow lurking behind his returned smile. What was that all about? It would have to be a question for another day. They’d delved deep enough into their respective baggage for one night, so she wasn’t going to press the issue.

  “I remember when you moved in with him. It was... unexpected. And you were the first of his submissives he didn’t want to introduce me to.”

  Ouch. That... hurt. Way more than it should.

  “Renee and he had just broken up, maybe six, eight, months before he brought you home. She and I... well, we tried to make things work as a couple. I let her come between Benson and I in a way I hadn’t thought possible. I’d never wanted a relationship before her. I’d always been content to come and play, and then go our separate ways. The women loved Benson, he loved them. I cared for them, sure, and we enjoyed each other’s company, we were friends, for lack of a better term. But that’s all it was for me. Until her. And suddenly, the arrangement we all had wasn’t enough for me. I got selfish. And I ruined it all.” There was so much hate in his voice, she cringed.

  She knew what it was like to hate yourself that much. “Wanting more doesn’t make you a bad person.”

  “I keep trying to tell myself that. But twelve years later, my brother’s dead, and he and I never quite managed to move past my insistence that she choose between us. I think I broke his heart, and he never quite forgave me. Not that I blame him.”

  “I’m sorry you missed out on so much with him. That sucks.” She wasn’t going to tell him it was fine, that would just diminish his pain. And he was entitled to be upset about it. It did suck. “For what it’s worth, he still loved you. A lot. Those first couple years together, I knew he was healing as much as I was from something. But he never wanted to talk about it. When he’d moved past it, he said he’d been foolish to let it affect him so much. Now I understand what that it was. I think he forgave you. Even if he didn’t tell you. I like to think he was pretty perfect, but he was only human. And even he had a stubborn streak if you dug deep enough. I think he let that get in the way of reaching out and trying to repair what you’d had.”

  “He must have had a stubborn streak, if he’d put up with your contrary ass for over a decade.” His voice was a lighthearted tease, pulling back from all the emotional heaviness of tonight. She was happy to follow suit.

  “Hey, that’s enough about my ass today. Maybe tomorrow you can make it up to my ass.” Now wasn’t the time to tell him she’d never been like this with Benson. He was ready to change the subject, and she was glad to allow it.

  “Well, little miss, don’t look at me. You’re the one who got into trouble. Not me. And I’d like to think one massive toe-curling, screeching orgasm is quite enough to make up for a thorough spanking.” His eyes glimmered at her.

  She really couldn’t argue with that.

  “Now, it’s very late and I think it’s time for little wayward subs to be in bed.”

  She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She was in fact exhausted beyond belief, so it made no sense that she wanted to tell him she wasn’t going to bed, just out of spite. Knock it off! She turned and headed for the stairs.

  “Since you’ve been so good, I’ll even tuck you in.” His voice was directly behind her and the frisson of awareness zinging through her body made her want to moan. Down girl. She had had enough. For now.

  “Since you’ve been so magnanimous, I might even let you,” she said over her shoulder as she went up the stairs. She literally couldn’t stop the words from running out of her mouth.

  His thunderous look made her a little weak in the knees. But she ignored that and hid a smile as she turned back around and went into her bedroom. He followed her in, and it took everything in her not to ask him to crawl into bed beside her as he did, in fact, tuck her in.

  Chapter Eight

  Several days later, Evangeline was still trying to figure out what the hell they were doing.

  She was living with her Master’s younger brother. She was letting him spank her when she was naughty. Well had let might be better, since it had only happened once, Friday night. She’d been doing her best not to pull the dragon’s tail since. Because she wasn’t sure she wanted another spanking. She wasn’t sure she didn’t want one either, though.

  They’d been more like friends or even roommates since their intense session and major confessions. They had studiously avoided talking about what they wanted to continue or discontinue between them. She was getting antsy for some kind of plan.

  They had eaten together most of the three-day weekend and enjoyed companionable quiet when not chit chatting about random stuff but avoided anything even remotely as heavy as they’d gotten into in the kitchen. He gave her the inside scoop on Broadway, which she’d found fascinating. Learning about casting and schedules, and the drama behind the scenes had been cool. She’d talked a bit about her work, but not too much.

  “I guess we should talk about hiring a lawyer,” Leo said from beside her on the couch in the TV room Monday night. This was the one room in the entire house without period-correct furnishings. She’d been adamant that she wanted a sofa to sit on that she didn’t have to worry about ruining. So, they’d turned one of the back parlors into a movie room. Only the master bedroom and bathroom had been rehabbed when she’d moved in with Benson. He’d pulled a second mattress into the room for him to sleep on, giving her the bed, since none of the other bedrooms were really in any shape to be slept in.

  “Yeah. I have no intention of giving up this house.” Every other room in this place had her blood, sweat, and tears imprinted on it.

  “And you shouldn’t have to. I can call Charlotte, maybe take her for coffee or something. Try to figure out what her angle is. She always has one. I’m just not sure what her sudden interest in this place is. She’d never seemed to care before. I’m hoping I can talk some sense into her before getting an attorney involved, but... I don’t know. She seemed pretty determined. She got like that a lot when we were kids. And there was little getting in her way when she wanted something.”

  “I wouldn’t know anyone else like that,” she teased, nudging him gently with her foot.

  “Har, har.”

  “But you’re right. We should get an attorney involved. I don’t exactly have a ton of free time on my hands, but it’s important. I’m not giving up my home with
out a fight.”

  “I won’t let her bully you out. Even if she somehow legally pulled your name from being added to the deed, I have no intention of giving her my half. I don’t want you to worry you won’t have somewhere to go. This is your home. It’s been that way for years. I won’t let anything jeopardize that.”

  She appreciated that. She really did. But... “I don’t want to be the cause of another Hastings siblings’ rift.”

  “It’s not your doing. It’s hers. If she’s too pig-headed to see that, that’s her fault. Not yours. And not mine. We can offer to pay back what she loaned Benson and see if that will work. I know she said it wasn’t about the money, but maybe it is. I don’t know.”

  “That’s probably a decent solution.” So why did she feel so out of sorts? She was secure here. Leo told her so. She was going to fight for her home. But she still felt... disconnected from reality somehow. It was an odd feeling. Like she could sink into herself and just never come out into the real world again. Like she wasn’t tethered here.

  “What’s the matter?” Leo asked, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts.

  “Honestly? I’m not sure.”

  “Feeling out of sorts?”

  Biting her lip, she nodded. Because you’re getting fat again, stupid. “Shut up!”

  Leo didn’t react to her shout, except to cock his head to the side. When she buried her face against the pillow next to her, he quietly asked, “Care to clue me in?”

  May as well. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already shared practically everything with him. But, still, she hesitated. God, how long had that taken her with Benson? Sure, their connection was immediate, her need for him swift, all-consuming. Her acceptance of his instructions to get better had been easy. Necessary. He’d taken on the role of her protector, her savior, her everything. It had taken her three years before she felt like her own person. Not because Benson wouldn’t allow her to be herself, but because she had utterly lost herself at that point, and piece by piece, he had helped put her back together. The same way he had put Kempert Manor back together.