She nodded. “I was never Sofia, Hunter. I was only using her name to gain entrance. Like a fake I.D. to a bar, just—higher stakes, I suppose.”
“Max told me you were having a hard time.” He looked at her, his face inscrutable. “That if I wanted you in any way, I needed to talk to you right now.”
“You’re here just because of Max?” Her voice wobbled and she felt tears in her eyes.
“No. I’m here because I want to start over. Max just reminded me not to wait too long. He’s right. I’ve been a shit.”
“Yes. You have.” She nodded. She could almost imagine Max’s face, saying that to Hunter. God, he really did care about her. He was a good man. Although what the hell was up with him acting like some sex Godfather, or something? Who was he to decide on her behalf who she should be with?
“Can we talk?” Hunter gestured to the couch in their sitting area, and they sat side by side.
“So.” Casey felt his thigh, warm and hard beside hers. “What did you want to say to me?”
He took her hand, and she felt sparks travel down her arm to her chest, her stomach. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you that night, when we punished you. Max told me he wanted to give you a fantasy, and I spoiled it. I was treating it like a real punishment, and he wanted it to be more like a scene, and I wasn’t—on the same page. I was very angry. I had no business being there, doing anything with you, in that mood. You were right.”
She pulled her hand back, crossed her arms. “Why did you do it, then?”
He shook his head. “I was very angry, Casey. And the truth is that I prefer a kind of BDSM relationship that’s more intense than what a lot of people do. When I play, I play hard, and when I have a relationship, I want it to be just as intense. Powerful punishments, powerful passion. Serious submission to my dominance. It’s not as light as what most people enjoy. But I was mixing it in with my anger in a very unhealthy way. Without your permission.”
“You had my permission, though,” she corrected. “I said yes. I asked for it.”
“I think you said yes to something other than what I ended up giving you. We talked about hard limits, but we didn’t talk about what the scene meant to you, not fully. That’s my fault. I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to forgive you that night, and you needed it. It was wrong of me to promise it and then not deliver.” His voice sounded regretful, and his eyes were sad. “There were three of us in that room, and all three of us wanted something different. Max and I had no business setting that up with you.”
“Maybe you need to rethink your club rules.” She wanted the words to come out light, but they were hard, bullets of angry provocation, and they both were startled at her vehemence.
He nodded. “Yes.”
Neither spoke for a few minutes, then Hunter said, “That and admission. From now on, Max, Alexa, or I will meet with a prospective new member ahead of time, personally, after we review the application. The first time we meet a new person won’t be at the front door.”
“Is that because you think I ruined it?”
“You didn’t ruin anything. You found a flaw in our system. We’re using this as an opportunity to improve. The club brings out powerful emotions. It’s not right to have people come in that blind. You were right, too, about the initiation. That’s not the best way to do it, going forward. We’ll meet someone in person and use that meeting to determine if they really want to be there.”
“So I was the last to enjoy that particular pleasure.” Her voice was dry. “Shouldn’t there be something like a trophy coming my way?”
He laughed. “You have a way with words, Casey.” He took her hand again. “I don’t have a right to ask this, but I’m going to, anyway. I want to see you again. Be with you again. Start over from where we left off that morning over coffee, when I cropped you in front of Le Rêve. See where we go together. Dominant and submissive.”
“But you ignored me for weeks.” The pain tugged at her heart, raw and fresh. And the anger. “I was hurting, and confused, and sad, and embarrassed. And you blew me off.”
There was a silence for a minute, with nothing except her heartbeat, the rustle of fabric on the couch. Traffic outside. The backup track to a deleted song. Outtakes from a silent movie.
“It’s because I cared too much,” he said finally. “Casey, I’m usually in complete control of everything. My work, my life, my club, my relationships. And when I saw you, even the first time we talked, I just—everything flew apart on me. I don’t know exactly why I had such an instant connection with you, but I did, and I was obsessed with you. Your smell, your smile. I wanted to spank you, to own you, to devour you whole.” His voice was so intense that she almost had to move back to make room for the passion. “I thought I’d finally met someone who got me, you know? Someone who matched me. You made me think about art and life in ways I hadn’t in years. I wanted more of that. And then when I realized that you were someone else? All of that emotion? I had nowhere to put it, and it went into anger.”
“I was angry too.”
“I know.” He blew out a breath. “Casey, I go after what I want, and right now I want you. The deception is in the past, and I suppose I welcome it in a way, because it brought us together. If you feel that same emotion for me, then give this a try. That’s all I ask.”
“I—Hunter.” This was everything she wanted, but it was so sudden and immense, that she didn’t know how to respond. Her body fluttered and her mind tore in the frantic wind of her imagination. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes.” His voice was sexy and persuasive, and his green eyes glowed in the light from the window. He leaned in so his lips brushed hers. “Say yes, Casey. Say you’ll try again. Say you want to be mine, in my bed, in my arms.”
“Hunter.” His lips were barely touching hers, and the nearness of his body sent trickles of tickly arousal all down her neck. Her lids fluttered as she leaned into him.
When he kissed her, it was soft, a question, and when she answered it with firmer pressure by reaching her hands up to his head, he took her mouth and owned it. And when he pulled her shirt off, she helped by lifting her arms, shifting, acquiescing with her body to his silent demands. His strong thigh between hers was inevitable and right; his lips on her nipples sent her soaring to the high white ceiling, tossed her among the shadows there, the dappled lights and darks shifting from a turning glass mobile below. And when he touched between her thighs, making her arch and gasp, she closed her eyes and still saw the patterns behind her lids, and didn’t think about anything but his body, his arms, his scent, driving her wild.
But when he whispered, “Yes? Casey?” tugging at her panties, the question obvious, she hesitated. Behind her eyelids, Max was standing there, arms crossed, looking at her and Hunter, and she didn’t know how to proceed.
She didn’t say no; didn’t say anything, in fact, but Hunter pulled back to examine her face, and she turned her eyes away, ashamed and sorry to stop in the middle of something so beautiful, not even sure she did want this to end. And when he sat up, and put his face into his hands, a muffled curse barely audible, she started to cry.
“No. Please, don’t cry. It’s all right.” He gave her back her shirt, and when he helped her put it on, a reverse of what had just happened to remove it, she started to laugh through her tears at the strange symmetry.
“I’m sorry.” She said the words mechanically, not sure to whom she meant them, only knowing they were true in some fashion. A message without an addressee. Something that was already lost in the recesses of her mind. “What does the post office do with lost letters?” she asked, not expecting an answer.
Hunter pulled her into his shoulder. “It’s okay.” His voice was rough and harsh, but not cruel. “Casey. It will take time, and I swear, I’ll wait as long as I need to earn your forgiveness.”
“Do you think it’s ironic?” Her voice came out quiet. “I wanted your forgiveness, now you want mine. I’m not holding back as retribution, Hunt
er. I just—I need time.”
He shook his head. “I understand that better than you know. Life is ironic sometimes. One of its many beauties, I suppose.”
She relaxed against him, neither of them talking, the silence not exactly comfortable, but neither was it painful. It was something new, something different from anything in her life, and she tried to explore its recesses and whorls with her mind, figuring out this thing.
“What are we looking at, here?” His voice was low, and he gestured to the wall across from them.
She flushed hot and stammered. “It’s a—she’s a—sort of, brand new artist, and she’s exclusive to our gallery. This work is called Metamorphosis.” It was a swirl of color that turned into a woman, who turned into watercolor smears, raindrops on a car windshield, sun through clouds, back into a swirl.
“What’s changing, and what will it turn into?” he asked. But he was looking at her, not the art.
“She has choices, I think. She can turn into whatever she wants.” Casey pointed. “She’s none of it, and all of it in turns. She’s in charge of what she’ll be, for once. At the end. She’s not locked into one thing, one genetic thing that controls her destiny. She doesn’t have to be a butterfly. Maybe she’ll be a tiger.” She held her breath. “Do you like it?”
“It’s gorgeous.” His eyes drifted to the painting on the wall. “Mesmerizing. The color is unbelievable.”
She breathed out a tremulous sigh. “Good. Your opinion means a lot to me. I’m sure the—artist would appreciate it.”
“I wonder if I’ve seen her work before. Let me guess. Is this a Maria Monroe? No; the colors are too bold.” He wrinkled his brow. “Maybe an Adrienne Perry?”
“No,” she smiled. “Want me to tell you?”
“I want to see if it comes to me. I like a challenge. I’ll let it sit in the back of my mind until the associations are triggered, and then I’ll know. Or I won’t, and then I’ll ask.”
“It’s me.” She whispered the words. “It’s mine, Hunter. I did this.” But her words were too quiet, almost invisible, and he didn’t hear.
“Controlling one’s own future. I like it.” His voice was thoughtful. “As long as she picks what she truly wants. That’s the most beautiful thing about a person, I’ve always believed it. Someone who knows what she wants and goes after it, and damn the cost.”
“I’m starting to figure that out.” She smiled and leaned back into his arm, and they both looked at the picture for a long time without speaking. “This is like a very, very slow movie, Hunter. But I like it.”
He stroked her hair. “As much time as it takes.”
* * *
“So you and Hunter are together now?” Echo handed Casey a cup of coffee, one early Saturday morning. “What about Max?”
“I don’t know.” Casey poured creamer and took a sip. “I love hazelnut.” She petted a cat and pointed. “Is Scalawag under the ottoman again?”
“Yeah. He spends, like, an hour there each morning. If I try to pull him out too soon, he bites.”
They watched the ottoman for a moment, and then Echo asked, “But you and Hunter. You’ve been spending time together, right?”
“Yes. We’ve gotten together a few times just for lunch, to talk. He asked me again for a second chance. I said I’d think about it.”
“Nicely done. Payback.”
“I’m not that shallow.”
“He doesn’t deserve deep end yet.”
“Yes, probably, but that’s not why I’m doing it. I’m seriously fucked up about all of this, Echo. I mean, it’s a lot to happen. And I mean, the thing with Max—” She waved her hand. “That’s in there, too.”
“The thing with Max? You mean the crazy animalistic sex you had with him and couldn’t stop talking about? The way you’re best friends with him now, so tight with him that I might start to think you’re a pair of conjoined twins? The way that every single conversation we have these days inevitably involves something Max said or did or thought once? Except you haven’t seen him since Hunter started coming around.”
“Yes, that.” She sipped the coffee. “It’s bright out today.”
“Sunny days in the hood. Yup. Also, the fact that Max called you all the time and came to you every time you were sad? The fact that he dropped everything to be with you?”
“That too.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know what I want.”
“You know you can’t have them both. Even if other people at the club do that. Not with the kind of emotions you have going on.”
“You know I’m not like that.” Casey’s voice was harder than she expected. “I’m not an easy player. I can’t do it that way. I tried it that one night, and it was a mistake in more ways than one. I’m never going to be the kind of person who can do that.”
“Good.” Echo’s voice was relieved. “Casey, I’m glad. I don’t think it’s wrong or anything to have multiple partners at the same time, if you like that. But it’s so rough on the heart, I think, for someone like you. I didn’t want to watch you get pulverized.”
“Well, neither did I.” Casey frowned. “Who wants that? No fun.”
“What is fun for you?”
“My art. My job. I like it more now that I finally belong there. After Monica ripped me a new one, I felt angry, and embarrassed, and then—empowered to own my own destiny there. It’s amazing what a difference it makes in my outlook. Instead of feeling like I’m just a cog, I feel like I’m the power that makes the cogs move.”
“See, you are a freak. Enjoying getting a new asshole ripped.”
“That’s your takeaway?” Casey slapped affectionately at her friend’s hand. “Bitch.”
“Kidding. I’m trying to show you that I’m so cool with your newfound sexuality that I can work it casually into everyday jokes.”
“You deserve a medal.”
“Right? Get on that. I’ll hang it there.” She pointed to Casey’s picture. “Then we’ll both have our own art on the walls.”
“Speaking of that. Monica said that she’s already gotten several offers for Metamorphosis, and she wants me to put more of my art in the gallery. She said we’ll treat me like an emerging artist and do all the publicity we usually do. I’m—when she said it, I almost cried.”
“She’s going to be okay?”
“Yes, they got the cancer completely. She already looks so much healthier and happier. She even told me she’d do a chair race with me after my next painting sells. She makes jokes sometimes.”
“Oh, Casey. If I had money, I’d buy your next one. And when you’re big and famous, I’ll send out tons of selfies of me in front of it sticking my tongue out, all hey, beeotches, look what I gots!”
“You know I’ll make you one for free, because you’re my bestie. And when you’re acting on Broadway, I’ll do impromptu interviews in the lobby and offer fake copies of your signature. It’ll be awesome. I’ll give you forty percent of the profits, even.”
The buzzer interrupted, and Echo frowned. “Expecting anyone?”
“No.” But when she heard Hunter’s voice on the intercom, she felt her heart flutter.
“Casey? Can I come up? I need to see you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Yes, come up. Of course.” She stood and smoothed her hair. “Fuck. Echo, he’s—he’s a billionaire. He won’t fit in here. He’ll think I’m—” Her gaze darted around wildly, and she clutched her stomach. “I can’t see him in here.”
Echo’s face was fierce. “There’s nothing wrong with anything in here, except for that attitude. Don’t insult yourself and me that way, Casey. I’m in here too. I’m not afraid of any billionaire.”
“I’m sorry! I’m just freaking out.” She shot her friend a look of supplication. “Help me.”
“Aw, Case.” Echo softened and put her arms around her friend. “Find your core and hang onto it. You just had it, girl. Just a second ago. You’re going to let go just like that?” She squeezed Casey’s hands and her l
ook was nearly as pleading as Casey’s had been. “Don’t split apart on yourself again. It takes too long to find all the pieces.”
“I’m trying.” She sucked in air, feeling his presence in the doorway, and turned. “Hunter.”
“Casey.” He was larger than life, so handsome as he stood there and rested a large package against the wall. He was so real and beautiful that his outlines seemed too sharp for the rest of the apartment, which blurred into an unfocused smear behind him. “I wanted to see you.”
“Hi.” She cleared her throat. “This is my best friend and roommate, Echo.”
She could see the comprehension now on Echo’s face, as her friend looked at Hunter. Maybe now that Echo could see him, feel his aura, she’d finally understand his magnetic draw.
“Nice to meet you.” But Hunter’s eyes were on Casey. “I want to speed up the movie, if I can. Or fast-forward to a better part, maybe, is what I mean. I want to skip the part where you’re hurting, and get to a place where you’re happy again.” His gaze was intense, and his scent rolled over to her when he came closer.
“Oh, Hunter.” Her voice caught. “I don’t know what that means.”
“I wish I could take back what I said and did. You made a big mistake, yes, but I made a worse one, in the way I responded. I want to show you that I’m trying to fix things.”
Echo disappeared into her room, and Casey barely noticed.
“I want you, Casey. I want you to be mine.” His voice was harsh. “And I need your forgiveness. I need to show you that—the time we spent together, short as it was, was powerful. Unlike anything I’ve ever had. Do you feel that, too?”
She nodded, eyes meeting his. “Hunter, I felt an immediate click when we met. When we talked about the art, I felt like—you really got me. For the first time in my life, someone got what I meant, right away, and felt it too.”
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