She would need to get cleaned up, but for the moment, she just wanted to sit here.
“So, what did I miss?”
“Well, Holdings was an asshole. Treating Heidi like a child, trying to keep her out of the business dealings at the law firm. Trying to keep her safe from some of his clients. And she walked out. She left him, because he was a jerk. That’s the Big Black Moment, where they break things off, and you think all hope is lost.” She returned her gaze to the screen. “Here comes the Big Gesture, where Heidi shows him what an idiot he’s been, by fixing the mess he’s made at work, and getting his clients to not only come back to him, but to realize she’s a bit of a shark, and not to be trifled with. She’ll show him that even though she left, and he’s been an ass, she might maybe still love him. That she can handle anything he throws down. And that his less than savory clientele, the local motorcycle club will respect her and follow her lead.”
She leaned back and Leo settled beside her with a soft sigh, like he was just as content as she, despite his raging hard-on. He watched through the end, with her, through the Big Gesture, the make-up sex, and the fade-to-black happily ever after. She sighed. It had been far too long since she watched this.
“You’re not even going to ask, are you?” Leo said into the quiet as the credits rolled.
She looked at him. “Ask what?”
He just shook his head, smiling. Ah, right. The sex thing.
She shrugged. “You set the boundaries. I’ll push some of them, obviously. We’ve already established that. But I wouldn’t pressure you for something you wouldn’t want. You don’t have to explain your reasons to me, unless you want to. And while we’ve agreed we’re not having a relationship, because neither of us wants that, I’m just saying that if you want more sexual encounters alongside our kink, that would probably be okay with me.” He was already controlling her orgasms. He’d had his hands and mouth in the most intimate of places. She’d been bared completely before him. It wasn’t like they weren’t having sex already just because they weren’t having intercourse.
“Huh.”
“Are you surprised?”
“A little. Maybe I’m just too jaded. But people aren’t usually very respectful of that particular boundary if we’re together more than just at a club. So, thanks.”
She nodded. She couldn’t imagine that led to fun conversations. “No one should be pressured into doing something they don’t want to do, no matter what it is. I’m okay with things where they are, and I’ll try not to feel guilty, or like I’m leaving you hanging, or anything, while I’m over here coming until I cry myself hoarse, while you’re over there with a pipe in your pants.”
“You noticed.” His voice was dry.
“It’s hard not to notice. So, yeah.” And yeah, she wanted to reach out and touch him. Release him from his pants, hold the warm length of him in her hand, and then her mouth. But... only if he wanted that too.
He laughed.
“What?”
“You’re... licking your lips.”
Her cheeks flamed. Oh, God. She pulled in her tongue and closed her mouth, staring at his face, refusing to look elsewhere. She knew she shouldn’t be embarrassed. She was sitting here half-naked after he’d just given her an amazing orgasm with his face against her most intimate areas. Yet, she couldn’t help the slight mortification at admitting she wanted him like that. It wasn’t just about not leaving him hanging, or not being selfish. She wanted to touch him. And now they both knew it.
“Well, then, now that that’s established... it’s time for dinner.”
“What? We like, just had breakfast!”
“That was hours ago, sweetheart. We should get cleaned up first, and maybe have lots of water. I’m certainly parched.”
She blushed even harder at that.
He was right, though, because she was suddenly desperate for something to drink. She ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, me too.” They got the couch cover into the wash, and after a full glass of cold water, she hopped in the shower. All the while, wondering if she was going to keep wanting her new Mister in ways she knew she shouldn’t, and just how she was going to keep herself in check. There was a fine line between being a brat and pushing too far. And damn her, but she was looking forward to finding exactly where that line was, and dancing all over it.
Chapter Twelve
The next two months passed in the same routine. Leo awoke early, he masturbated, he met Evangeline in the kitchen, where she would be sipping coffee and working on her computer. Then he’d cook breakfast, they would eat, and he would pack her lunch while she cleaned the kitchen. Then she was off for the day, wearing something he helped her pick out. The routine was downright domestic. More than he’d ever hoped for. He ordered her around. She pushed back when she felt necessary, he gave her some mild punishment, and they continued on their merry way. It was utterly intoxicating, having this much control over someone else. Exhausting, too, but exhilarating as hell.
He had to remain ever vigilant. Texting her in the morning as soon as he got up, giving her the morning’s orders, tucking her into bed at night, sometimes after playtime, sometimes not. He even occasionally sent her to bed without an orgasm, if she was being particularly naughty. He felt only a little bit guilty on those nights. But the following morning, she was always so damned content, contrite, and indulged every whim of his without a bratty word. Bringing her to heel, while also constantly taking care of her, was tiring, sure, but it left him with the best sense of accomplishment. And it was a good kind of tired.
Their new routine was something he wouldn’t jeopardize by letting her pleasure him, or by sleeping with her. He spent most of the day working on things around the house. When the house was empty, he sang as he worked, moving from room to room and fixing little things. There was no lack of stuff to do in a house this age. Even though his brother had restored it to a beautiful home, there were a few small things to do in each area. The baseboards needed to be replaced in a couple rooms, there was a small section of flooring to repair. Leo wasn’t an expert, but he wasn’t utterly useless with the small stuff like this. He enjoyed working in the house, blasting instrumentals only and belting out the tunes as he went. He’d also taken on most of the meetings with the lawyer they hired to fight Charlotte’s estate claim, since Evangeline was at work five days a week.
He hated that his sister was taking them to court, but sure enough, a few days after her visit, a process server had shown up at the door with the Complaint. He’d been furious. Even though he should have known Charlotte would make good on her threats. He hadn’t been able to contain his anger. And he’d laid into Evangeline with a text thread of orders for her to complete at work between seeing patients.
He’d felt guilty as hell, but she’d been so content when she got home, she’d barely batted an eyelash at the court paperwork. “We’ll let the lawyer handle it,” had been all she’d said.
Which is what they’d been doing. They’d be going to court in just a few days. But he felt they were prepared. The law was mostly on their side. Benson’s will had been clear. If Charlotte wanted to sue the Estate for reimbursement of the loan, she could, but that didn’t mean she could have Kempert Manor.
But after six weeks of his attention, the house was in good shape, so he officially had to find other things to do with his days while his little minx was at work. Besides issuing her orders, of course. Because he could literally make a full-time job out of that. You’re getting in too deep, man.
He knew it. Yet, the constant companion of anger was quelled, just a little bit, with every text he sent. Just like it was when he played with someone. Only, now he was issuing orders all day long. Every day. And he felt better than he had in years. More guilt plagued him at that thought. He should still be mourning Benson’s death. And he was. It was just that... with Evangeline, he was starting to feel like the person he wanted to be, instead of the person he’d always been. Even though he knew it was temporary. Even thou
gh he knew they couldn’t keep this up forever, and that he was being selfish for enjoying it as much as he was, he couldn’t help the way he felt. The release of constantly having her under his control was helping him cope with his grief in a way he hadn’t thought possible.
Sure, he was sad. And angry. He hated that Benson was gone. He hated even more that he’d spent more than a decade not speaking with his brother. But he was working through it. In large part because of his minx, and her trust in him, in letting him control her so completely.
His phone beeped with a new text and he smiled before he even picked it up. I’ll be late tonight. You may want to eat without me. Evangeline said.
Like hell. He sent back. She was going to have dinner with him, or she wouldn’t eat. They both knew it, so he would wait. He didn’t care what time it was.
She sent him an eye roll emoji. It was, after all, her favorite. He shook his head. His wayward little brat. Before he could admonish her though, she followed up the eye roll with, Fine. I’ll see you around seven.
He waited a beat. Then another. Would she push her luck?
Mister. Her text made him grin. So, she already knew rolling her eyes was enough to get her in a little trouble.
I have a busy afternoon. I’ll see you tonight.
She sent him a slew of emojis that baffled him: a book, a cake, a ruler, and a stripper. He laughed. He wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he wasn’t going to push for an explanation after she’d just said she would be swamped this afternoon. He’d instructed her after their agreement that he knew there would be times when the real world intruded and prevented him from issuing an order in a timely fashion, or prevented her from following them, and they would just adjust accordingly. He wasn’t into unnecessary punishment or recrimination for either of them. He might be more of a sadist than most, but he wasn’t cruel. When he punished her, it was for her own good, and his own, not because something had gone wrong, or taken away their options.
He spent the rest of the afternoon changing up the menu, deciding to put in a roast, and even make dessert. She needed a balanced diet, after all. Including brownies some days. After a stop at the store for the new ingredients, he set to work baking first. As he baked, he mulled over the notes that Benson had left him, and decided, once and for all, that he needed to throw out the rules. Things were working right now, and he wasn’t going to screw with the dynamics.
He was checking on the roast when his phone rang.
He rolled his eyes when he saw Charlotte’s name flash across the screen, but he answered. “Hello?”
“I need that house, Leo,” Charlotte’s voice sounded a million miles away. “You don’t. Why are you fighting me on this?” She sniffed hard and the words he was going to fire back at her got caught in his throat. Was she... crying?
He wasn’t sure the last time he’d seen Charlotte cry. She’d always been made of stone, that one. In the best way. She was always the ice to the heat of his temper.
“Char... it’s not just mine. And yeah, at some point, I’ll probably go back to New York.” That was the goal, anyway. To get things situated here and help Evangeline get back on her feet, and then return to his life. His career. Even with only a few months, or a year away, it might be like starting over when he returned to the city, but he was committed now, and he would just have to make things work. “But this has been Evangeline’s home for more than ten years.”
“Damn it, Leo, you’re not hearing me. I need the house. I... have to get out of here.” The desperation in his sister’s voice made his heart clench.
“What’s going on? Do you need me to come get you?” She might be his older sister, but he damned well wasn’t going to sit here and do nothing if she was in trouble.
“No, don’t come here.”
“You tell me what the hell is going on, right now.” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice but failed. Something was very, very wrong. “Or I’m driving over there.”
“No!” The sheer terror in her voice was like an uppercut to the jaw.
He was already grabbing for his keys. “Okay, just talk to me. Have you been... is Pete...?” he couldn’t finish the words. He’d only met his brother-in-law a few times. The thought that his sister was being abused by her husband made him see red.
She was silent so long, he checked the phone twice to make sure the call was still connected. He turned off the oven so he didn’t burn down the house, and headed to his car.
“Yes,” she finally whispered.
“I’m on my way.”
“No, you can’t... Leo... I won’t let you hurt him.”
He wasn’t going to hurt him; he was going to fucking slit the bastard’s throat.
It was the slowest afternoon of Evangeline’s fucking life, and all she wanted was to be home. She pulled her thoughts back to the group. Now that Leo was helping her keep a handle on herself, she’d been better able to focus at work. Until today.
“Thank you, Stephen, for sharing that with us. How do you think things could have gone differently?” she prompted, focusing on the here and now. She liked group therapies best. It was a chance for her to help build relationships with her patients and create a community where they could share and find validation. She often told her patients about her own battles with anorexia. It had taken her a few years of practice before she’d been comfortable doing that. At first, she’d feared that it would make them doubt her ability to help. As if because she struggled with an eating disorder, she wouldn’t be able to help them deal with their own. While her focus was still mostly on the nutritional side of things, she’d gotten certified to be a counselor a few years back, and she thought being able to do both was helpful to everyone she saw here. It allowed her to address not just the what people were eating but the why behind it and help them change their relationship with food from both avenues.
“I don’t know, doc. Maybe if I stopped myself from eating the entire package of cookies, I wouldn’t hate myself so much now.”
She nodded. “While that may be true, that’s not what I meant. What, specifically, do you think led to that particular binge?”
He shrugged, and she waited. Some patients needed prodding to get to the heart of an issue. Others needed to be waited out. Benson had taught her that. Waiting for someone to share, sitting in silence and allowing it to crowd them, or even to make the space for them to speak, was a technique her Master had used on her countless times over the years. Always with the same patience and kindness. She worked every day to emulate that with the patients she had in her care. The group was starting to get restless, but they waited with her.
“I should have told my dad to fuck off.” Stephen’s voice was quiet.
“That may have led to an argument, of course, if you used those words. Would that have been helpful or made things worse do you think?”
“I don’t know. Worse, probably.”
“Okay, so binge eating to avoid a confrontation wasn’t helpful, and telling him to fuck off may have been even worse. Could there be a middle ground there?”
He nodded, and his long hair fell down over his pale face. “Yeah, maybe.”
“What would you have liked to say to your dad?”
Stephen took a few moments to think, and then he said, “Well, outside of fuck off, I should have told him that he was being a jerk, and my not wanting to return to college didn’t mean that I would never amount to anything. He has this thought that I have to have a degree. He doesn’t have one. And his job is great. He gets to work with animals at the shelter. He somehow thinks that it’s a dead-end job and... I don’t know...”
“Do you think that he’s worried you’ll end up like him?” Evangeline was no stranger to having a difficult relationship with one’s parents.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“So, that might be something to talk with him about, when you’re both calmer, rather than in the heat of the moment. To discuss what his fears are, and the reasons you don’t think that not ha
ving a degree equals a tougher life. What else could you do? Have you talked about what you might want for a career? Would a trade school be a good alternative? Do you like working with the animals, too? Would vet school be an option, or you could look at a certification program for a veterinary assistant or technician role?”
“I guess I could look into something like that.” Stephen gave her a rare smile. “Maybe a certification or degree program that was one or two years might not feel as daunting as going back to that campus.”
“That’s true. You can look into maybe trying to get a degree online, as well. If you did that, you could stay at home with your parents, or find some roommates to live with at the same time. Maybe while working at the zoo, or in a lower position at a vet’s office while you were still at school.” She probably knew too much about this subject. But working with animals had been something she’d maybe thought she wanted to do when she was younger. Med school for humans had won out though. “In the meantime, let’s work on what you might try the next time a potential conflict comes up. Life is unfortunately full of conflict. Full of triggers, and stressors that we have to work on facing in a way that doesn’t include falling into our old habits.” Like she was one to talk. Shut it. She wasn’t going to let impostor syndrome get the better of her. Not today.
She was battling back her grief in healthy ways. Sort of. She thought back to this morning’s instructions from Mister Leo. To the barely-there see-through panties she was currently wearing. To the special little stop she was going to make on her way home. Not that that had been part of Mister’s orders. But she was going to surprise him. So, if allowing another person to have almost complete control over most aspects of her life allowed her to function, to cope with the grief without starving herself, then that’s what she was going to do. They were two consenting adults, after all, and she refused to be ashamed of what they were doing.
****
The house was dark when she arrived. Odd. She unlocked the front door, which was never locked nowadays when she got home, and called “Leo?” as soon as the door was open. No answer. The house smelled of dinner, but he was nowhere to be found.
From Sir, With Love Page 11