“You should.” He held out a ring of something that looked like white rubber. “How do you know if you like it or not if you don’t try it?”
His tone was severe, like a parent chastising a child for refusing to try something new. Stacie considered. She’d always been grossed out by the thought of trying squid, or snails or anything weird. But she liked prawns and fish, so why would squid be any different.
“Okay, but just a tiny bit,” she said.
Dan cut a section off the ring and offered it to her. She tentatively closed her lips round it and slid it off his fork. She chewed.
“Well?”
She swallowed. “Not bad actually. A bit chewy. It doesn’t really taste of anything much.”
“At least you tried it. More?”
She shook her head vigorously and Dan chuckled. They spent the meal in idle chit-chat. She discovered that he enjoyed football, both playing and watching and that he supported Liverpool. She told him about her work and regaled him with funny stories from the office.
She couldn’t stop herself. She knew she was becoming dangerously addicted to him. She couldn’t get enough of his smile, his facial expressions, the way he raised his eyebrows, the way he ate his food, the way his stubble made him so utterly delectable. She forced herself to concentrate on the banal chatter, but all she wanted was to feel his hands on her.
Stacie shook her head at herself. She’d known him less than twenty-four hours and was smitten, craving him. After Graham, Stacie had sworn that she would never fall into that trap again. She had vowed to remain wary and careful about her friends and the men she spent time with, yet here she was, sitting with a man who had trapped her without him even realising it.
What on earth was going on in her mind and her body? Dan was like a lightning bolt, striking her common sense numb while her emotions whizzed and sparked, and her body trembled like a schoolgirl with her first crush, willing to do anything and everything to be noticed and get his attention. She felt free and rebellious, wanting to break every rule in the book, be a naughty girl, do things that would have horrified strait-laced Graham. Stacie wanted everything from Dan, sex, love, devotion, and passion and to be seduced in more ways than she had ever imagined. She wanted to find the other side of Stacie, the side that had been locked away for years. It was time she had some serious fun, and allowed her body to let go and enjoy everything he could throw at her.
She watched the way he speared his pasta, staring at his hands, firm and brown. She trembled as she imagined those hands wandering freely around her body, not missing a single inch of her skin. The thought of his lithe fingers caressing her, teasing her, taking her to another planet, made her jiggle with excitement. He could use those hands to tie her to the bed, to lay her completely open to his whims. Now where did that thought come from? Stacie delicately cut another piece of duck, chewing thoughtfully. She had never had the urge to be tied to the bed before. But the thought of having Dan in complete control of her, doing whatever he wished to her, made her feel quite faint.
The little she’d learned of him during their light conversation had served only to increase her interest, not satisfy it. The most insistent question on her mind was, Is he in a relationship? Maybe this was Dan’s secret life. Maybe this was how he got his kicks. Certainly, Stacie knew she would never be happy with any boyfriend of hers working in a place like this. Why did a young, sexy, intelligent, kind man allow old women to watch him play with himself? Stacie struggled to understand why he would do this kind of job.
“Is everything all right?” she heard him ask. Caught in thought, she looked up, startled.
“Great,” she replied, faking a smile.
“You seem to be miles away.”
“Do I?”
“You do. What are you thinking about?” he asked.
Stacie cast about in her mind. “Oh, I was just wondering what my next lesson’s going to be.”
He smiled at her. “Is that the first excuse you could come up with?” he said, loading his fork with pasta. Stacie raised her eyebrows. Was she so transparent? “You want to find out more about me,” he said, pointing his fork at Stacie before popping it into his mouth.
Stacie just stared at him for a second, her mouth working like a landed fish. How did he know?
“Go on, get it off your chest, as my mother always says.”
She cut another piece of duck and chewed slowly, debating whether to tell him and be honest, or just let it lie. It didn’t matter what his answer was, really. Despite her feelings for him, they couldn’t ever be together, girlfriend or no.
She finally looked up and met his calm gaze. The pit of her stomach lurched. “I just can’t figure out why a good-looking guy like you is here doing this line of work.” Well, it was part of what she’d been wondering.
“I enjoy it, especially when I get stunning clients.” His mouth curved in a half smile.
The food she’d just put in her mouth turned to dust and she had to force herself to chew. What did he mean by that? Was he referring to her, or did he mean the other clients he had pleasured? Her mind rapidly went from picturing his hands running all over her body, to imagining him caressing other women, gorgeous women, begging for him to make love with them. She was shocked at the surge of black jealousy that filled her.
Stacie stared back at him as he filled his mouth with another forkful of food. “How can you do this without feeling some kind of emotion?”
He regarded her coolly as he emptied his mouth. “It’s all about the money, honey.”
“Yes, but you said you had stunning clients.”
“Some are more attractive than others. Some are, shut your eyes and do your job, Dan. I cannot and will not have emotions for my clients,” he told her bluntly.
“What about what you want?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Stacie stopped to think. Questions whirled around her head. She had a feeling this wasn’t going to work out well. Was she smitten with a man who purely loved himself? He was waiting and she struggled to work out how to answer without sounding like she had feelings for him. “Don’t you owe yourself more respect?”
“Why? I am happy, Stacie, doing what I am doing. It’s great having sex with women knowing they aren’t going to expect more from me. Out there,” he waved a hand vaguely at the window, “you get clingy women who are always wanting more. Here, I can have fun without that attachment. I don’t want commitment…I want fun. This club gives me security. The contract ensures that.”
Stacie put her knife and fork down. She wasn’t hungry any more.
“Is the food not good?”
“It’s excellent. I’m just full.”
Stacie understood. He was no better than any other man, just wanting as much sex as he could and nothing deeper than that. And he was gorgeous enough to be able to actually get paid for it as well. Stacie didn’t want to confront him anymore—she’d heard enough. His looks weren’t compatible with his outlook on life, but wasn’t it always the good-looking ones that were full of themselves and selfish.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked, not caring any more what he thought of her.
“I cannot answer that question.”
“Do you often get nosy women?”
“Not usually.”
“What do you normally do with your clients?”
He grinned. “Have sex.”
“Am I a new experience?”
“Kind of.”
He clearly was going to give the shortest answers possible. “Am I boring?”
“No one is boring, Stacie,” he said, his expression changing to a look of mild censure. She stared at the food on her plate, wishing she’d never started this pathetic question time.
Stacie stood up and walked toward the large window. She stared out at the dark winter evening, wishing they could have a proper conversation. “It’s not easy for me, being here.”
“I know. You’re doing really well.”
; Stacie began thinking about her time with Graham and how cheap he’d made her feel. When they married, she didn’t have a clue what mind games he was capable of. He’d manipulated her and that was just the beginning. She had been brainwashed until there was nothing but crap in her head, being told so often she was worth nothing that she came to believe it. She became his servant—If you loved me you’d want to look after me—lost everyone who was important in her life—You should only want to spend time with me. You’re supposed to love me—lost her glamorous beauty—Who do you need to dress up for? I don’t want other men looking at you—and had become a woman who was so low on self-confidence, she was afraid of everything and everyone.
“What are you thinking?”
Stacie gave a short, humourless laugh. “Just thinking about my husband.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“What, tell you how pathetic and blind I was, not seeing what mind games he was playing with me. How he left me with nothing and how stupid and naïve I was?”
Stacie’s breath began to come short, closing her eyes and picturing Graham in her head, standing over her, shouting down at her, telling her she was a stupid fucking cunt as she curled up in a ball at one end of the sofa, her hands over her ears. He’d always made it seem like it was her fault, that it was something she’d said or done that made him lose his temper. If she tried to get away from his vicious tongue, he’d follow her. One time he’d followed her to the bedroom to continue his tirade, only to barricade the door with his body when she tried to leave, preventing her from getting out. And then, every time she told him that was it, she really was leaving him this time, he’d cry, tell her he was sorry, tell her he’d try harder next time. And she always gave in, always believed him, ignored that tiny voice telling her she was stupid, that he’d never change,
She tried to calm her panicked breathing. It was over. He couldn’t get her any more. Dan was waiting. “It was a friendship that progressed. I met him through a friend. We all used to go out as a foursome. It was great. Fun, fun, fun was our language— nightclubs, expensive weekends away, even a holiday. It was a fantastic time. I was having the time of my life. I was young and madly in love. He would do anything for me. When he proposed it was like a fairy tale. Two dozen red roses, the best champagne, a stunningly gorgeous ring. I jumped around for months, bouncing around like a mad woman, so excited, getting everything prepared. I even bought my dream dress. It was so expensive, but I looked amazing.” She smiled, remembering how she’d looked in her stunning satin gown, with a chapel-length train, her hair curled and pinned on the top of her head and crowned with a tiara.
“I bet you did.” Dan’s comment was so quiet she hardly heard it.
She continued. “The day was totally hectic, everyone running around me like I was a queen. It was a fabulous day—you just couldn’t get me down the aisle quick enough. The venue was perfect and in the evening we drank champagne all night. I just couldn’t stop staring at him, planning our future in my head. Our honeymoon was incredible. I just knew that he was the perfect man for me and that I would live the dream of a happy and fulfilling marriage. Boy, was I wrong.
“I couldn’t believe how it had turned into such a disaster. It was like my world had shattered. No one else saw it. My family, friends, everyone loved him and thought he was the bees knees. No one could fault him. He was helping, caring, considerate…the perfect son-in-law. But behind the front door, he turned into a monster.”
She dared a glance at Dan. His eyes were sober, full of compassion.
“The first time was the worst. We’d just got back from our honeymoon. I had been at work all day and I was heading home. I was so excited to get home to my husband. I walked through the door and rushed into the kitchen to see his face full of anger. I asked him what the problem was and he went mental, screaming at me, waving his fists, and then he hit me and, guess why?” she asked Dan, knowing full well he wouldn’t know the answer.
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t wash the breakfast dishes before going to work,” she said, ignoring the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I couldn’t believe it. I fell to the floor begging and pleading with him to stop, but he began kicking me. I was crying and screaming, but it didn’t help. He called me names, useless bitch, stupid tart and fucking useless whore, told me no man deserves a useless lazy wife. Once he stopped, I could barely move. I managed to sit up and curl myself into a ball. I had no idea what had happened. I spent the night trying to make head or tail of it, but it was as if he was a totally different person. I even attempted to talk to him, but he wouldn’t even look at me. The following day I called my mum, and do you know what she said after I told her what happened?”
“What?”
“She asked, what did I do to provoke him?” Stacie spat the words out. “It must have been my fault, obviously, as Graham wouldn’t behave that way. What chance do you have if your own mother isn’t on your side? I cried a lot, but then after a while I began to wonder whether it was me and how I could prevent that situation in the future. Maybe he’d just had a bad day and it was a one-off.
“He was furious I’d spoken to my mum. The next day I walked in the house and he was fuming. He rushed over to me, pinning me to the wall with his face right in mine, telling me if I ever mention him hurting me again, he would beat me black and blue so no one would recognise me. After that he used to give me a list of jobs he expected me to do, so me being a complete mug and with my mum saying a wife should look after her man, things just went on from that evening.”
“Why did you not leave him straightaway?
“Why indeed? I asked myself that same question over and over. But I didn’t want to admit that I’d failed in my marriage. And I guess I thought this was something we could work on together. I wanted to help him with his anger problems, support him, not just walk away from him. Isn’t that what a wife is supposed to do, support her husband? And I was so in love with the nice Graham that I figured I could put up with the nasty one. I know how silly that sounds. I shouldn’t have had to put up with that from my husband, but it’s amazing what you tell yourself.”
“Have you never told anyone about it?”
“No…I just kept it all inside. I never really knew who I could talk to.”
Stacie wiped away the tears, limp with remembered rage and burning humiliation. She wished she had done something at the time, but she’d continued to take the pain and the brainwashing. And, after a while, she had started to believe what Graham told her, that it was all her own fault. That if she hadn’t said such and such a thing, he would have no cause to lose his temper.
She sat back at the table and took a gulp of her wine. “Listen to me going on about all my boring problems.”
“How can you say that, boring problems? My God, Stacie, he really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
“Yes, but you don’t need to hear about it.” She cradled her wine broodingly before taking another gulp. Maybe she should just get totally hammered.
“Why shouldn’t I hear about it? You’ve been to hell and back. You deserve to have your life back. He needs to be locked up. How can a guy hurt a woman like that? Bloody hell Stacie—boring? And of course I need to hear about it, it will help me to better understand your needs. Stacie,” he leaned forward and caught her hand. “I want to help you. You can’t live your life believing what he did was your fault. He was the one with the problem not you. Did he work?”
“At first, but he got made redundant after we got married. He said he was looking for work, but every time I asked him about it, he got angry. Then I think he just stopped trying, if he was ever trying to begin with. He used to say we were quite the modern couple, me being the breadwinner and him being the house-husband.”
“My God, what a selfish…Oh my God, Stacie,” Dan said, almost sputtering in his anger, compassion and pain for her shining from his eyes.
“You haven’t heard the worst.”
“Tell me, Stac
ie.”
Stacie swallowed, turning her head to look at the floor as she pictured that day. She didn’t really want to relive it—she’d tried her best to forget it. But she couldn’t pass up this the opportunity to talk to someone. Maybe talking would release the pain she had suffered since it had happened.
“I’d had a really shit day at work. It was raining and I got totally soaked waiting outside all day to do an interview, only for the person not to turn up. When I got home, thankfully, Graham was out. Probably with his mates drinking and doing drugs that I paid for. I did all the jobs that were on his list, made the house sparkle. I had a hot bath, and chilled out in front of the television waiting for his arrival. It got late and I wasn’t able to keep my eyes any longer open, so I headed to bed. I was woken by the front door slamming, and heard more than just Graham’s voice. He’d brought friends round. I wasn’t impressed as I was so shattered, I needed to sleep. I headed downstairs to ask them to keep it down and was told to fuck off back to bed, so I did.”
Stacie drew in a deep breath. Nausea roiled as she remembered the events of that night. “I listened to them all laughing. They were being exceptionally noisy but I couldn’t be bothered to confront them, so I stayed where I was and dozed a bit. I managed to nod off then I heard the bedroom door open. I thought it was Graham, finally coming to bed. But usually Graham slept to my right side and this evening he was getting in on my left. I just figured he’d been drinking and was more than likely pissed.”
A lump rose in her throat and she began to shake. She took another long draught of the wine. Dan reached across the table to take hold of her hand. “He began grabbing my breasts, pulling up my nightie. That was what he always did, he got into bed and started to fondle me and then we would have sex. But then I heard his voice. It wasn’t Graham. As I was about to scream he filled my mouth with a cloth. He got on top of me and pinned me down with my hands above my head, with one hand. I struggled, and tried to knee him, but he was stronger than me. He used his spare hand to put his dick into me and then started grabbing at my breasts, squeezing really hard. I had never been so petrified. I just wanted him to stop.”
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