by Erika Wilde
He exhaled a deep breath, picked up her hand to hold it, looked her in the eyes, and said the words that would end the best thing to ever happen to him. “You’re done with the last room at the club, and we need to be done, too.”
“You can’t be serious . . . ” Her voice rose incredulously, and confusion clouded her beautiful blue eyes. “I don’t understand, Brent . . . why?”
“Seeing you in there with the baby . . .” God, his heart was racing and this was so much harder than he imagined.
“Wait . . . ” She pulled her hand from his, and he hated that subtle withdrawal. “Are you telling me that seeing me holding a baby scared you off?”
“It didn’t scare me off,” he said, suddenly feeling defensive. “It reminded me that despite wanting you in my life for more than just this temporary fling we’ve been having, I can’t give you a baby or a family. Ever. I had a vasectomy over fifteen years ago.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted in shock as she processed that bombshell.
“I’m heading toward forty, Steph,” he said, forging ahead through her silence. “Kids just aren’t, and never will be, in my future. I accepted that a long time ago, but you’re only twenty-seven and still so young, and you should have all those things in your life. I’m just not the man who can give them to you.”
“Why did you have a vasectomy?” she asked.
Out of all the questions he’d anticipated she’d come up with, that one hadn’t even made the list. But she deserved an honest answer, and it all tied back to his marriage and divorce, and that meant telling her everything about his past when he’d never shared that part of himself with any other woman.
“I had a vasectomy after divorcing my wife because I wanted to be sure I never had children,” he began, and while he caught the perplexed look in Stephanie’s eyes, she remained quiet so he could give her the whole story. “I was young when I married Tessa. Twenty years old, and I was basically pressured into the marriage by my parents. My family comes from old money, and there were certain expectations they had of me and my siblings . . . and that was being groomed to work for the family’s import/export firm that my great-grandfather founded, and marrying someone within our social circle who would benefit our family business in some way.”
Her forehead creased in a frown as she tried to understand. “Like an arranged marriage?”
“Not exactly, but that’s how it felt at the time,” he admitted. “I met Tessa, and within the year we were married even though my gut told me she was all wrong for me. And when it came to sex . . .” He blew out a harsh breath. “She was definitely passive and timid . . . but not submissive in the way I know of it today in the lifestyle. There’s a huge difference, because she didn’t want sex, or particularly like it. She endured it because it’s what I wanted, but it was never satisfying.”
Stephanie’s attention remained rapt on him and the story he was telling, and he swallowed past the dryness in his throat so he could continue. “But she did want a baby, so she did initiate sex more often than she ever had, which I made the mistake of construing as her actually enjoying the physical part of it.”
A hollow laugh escaped him at his naiveté. “I’d always had these dominant tendencies that I started noticing when I was a teenager and I was messing around with different girls. But I didn’t know anything about BDSM, the lifestyle, or submissive women who liked and wanted to be dominated. I only knew that when it came to sex, I liked to be in control, and I enjoyed pushing limits, and during one of those baby-making episodes with Tessa, I made the mistake of getting too aggressive with her.”
“What happened?” Stephanie asked softly.
He hated the nauseous feeling currently swirling in his stomach but pushed on. “I’d gotten into the habit of closing my eyes and fantasizing about certain scenarios while I was having sex with Tessa so I could actually reach orgasm . . . images of tying her up, fucking her hard, making her beg and scream for it . . . and somewhere along the way, fantasy and reality merged together and I had her hands pressed down above her head, and her body pinned beneath mine to maintain that control while I fucked her mindlessly because it felt so damn good. Except when she screamed in real life, it played right into the fantasy in my head and I kept going until I came so hard I nearly blacked out. By the time I realized what I’d done, she was struggling to get away from me and crying, and I immediately let her go, horrified by what had happened and what I’d done.”
He scrubbed a hand along his jaw and shook his head. “When I reached for her to make sure she was okay, she clawed and kicked at me and screamed that I’d raped her and that I was a freak . . . ” That self-loathing he’d felt that night crept up on him even now. “And then she said she hoped she wasn’t pregnant because I was depraved and she’d never let me near her child because I was a sick monster.”
“Jesus,” Stephanie breathed. “That’s crazy.”
He nodded in agreement. “Honestly, it was all pretty fucked up and what I did was wrong, no two ways about it. We should have talked about my sexual preferences, and if she then wanted to try a few things, there should have been a safe word, but at the time, I was young and didn’t know any of that. Then again, I know she never would have agreed to any of the things I wanted to do to her.”
“So, you divorced,” Stephanie said matter-of-factly.
“She filed within a week, with the stipulation that if I didn’t want my family to find out what I’d done to her, then it was going to cost me . . . and it fucking did. Ten million dollars for her silence.” He rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “Of course, my parents were furious and my father called me a fuckup who couldn’t do anything right . . . so I went and got a vasectomy to make sure I never had a kid because I couldn’t get Tessa’s words sick monster out of my head, and I joined the Navy just to piss off my parents, which worked because they cut me off. Luckily, because I loved the old man, my grandfather did not. We had a strong relationship until the day he died.” Which was where all Mac’s millions of dollars had come from when his grandfather had passed away.
“You were, what, twenty-two when all that went down?” she asked. “You were young and while what happened was wrong, you can’t blame yourself for the rest of your life.”
He lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, just as an excuse to touch her because he knew having that privilege was going to come to an end, and soon. “I know that and I agree, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve had a vasectomy, and that I’m never going to have kids because I can’t.”
Her gaze suddenly turned steely and determined. “If the vasectomy wasn’t an issue, would you be doing this right now? Ending things with me?”
No, he wanted to say, but didn’t. “It doesn’t matter, because it is an issue.”
She laughed, but the sound lacked her normal humor, and he hated it. “So you’re just taking it upon yourself to decide what’s best for me, for us, based on what you saw in Kendall’s hospital room with Oliver?”
“Yes,” he forced out.
“You don’t have that right, Brent,” she said, her voice rising in anger. “It’s my decision to make, not yours.”
His own frustration boiled over, as well. “I heard you say your biological clock was ticking. That’s a pretty strong indication that you’re wanting kids at some point.”
“That’s not what I said,” she replied heatedly. “For the record, I said ‘this could get a woman’s biological clock ticking’. It was a general statement and not about me, personally. In fact, if you’d care to ask, instead of assuming, I would tell you that I love babies and kids. Adore them. But I’ve never been one of those women who feels like they need a baby to complete them or their lives. I have my nieces to love and spoil and hang out with, and I’m good with that. Really good.”
His lips flattened into a thin line. “You say that now, but you’re too young to really know—”
She cut him off, her eyes flashing furiously. “Don’t insult me, be
cause that’s bullshit, Brent, and don’t use the age difference between us to further your cause because you’re afraid to face your feelings for me or take a chance on what you and I both know we could have together. I’m plenty old to have my own business, to live a full life that I love, and to know what I do and don’t want or need to make me happy, and that is not a baby. It’s you, Brent.”
The breath left his lungs, rendering him speechless at her honesty, along with the vulnerability in her expression as she abruptly stood up and looked at him with tears and heartbreak in her eyes.
“God, I’m falling in love with you,” she rasped around the emotion clearly tightening her throat as she brushed away a tear that fell down her cheek. “But we’re right back where we started, aren’t we? With you being too chickenshit to give us a fair shot, because you’re the one who’s afraid to commit.”
He had no response, no argument that would defuse her words, so he said nothing. Her anger faded into a sadness that squeezed his heart like nothing he’d ever felt. Then she turned to walk away.
“Let me walk you to your car,” he said, standing and prepared to catch up to her.
She whirled around, those blue eyes overflowing with hurt as she put a hand up to stop him. “Don’t,” she said, the one firm word stopping him cold. “I’ve walked to my car alone a thousand times, and I don’t need you, or any man, to make sure I get there safely or out of obligation. I can get there on my own just fine, Mac.”
Mac. Not Brent. They were done. She was done, for real, he realized as he watched the distance between them grow as she headed toward the parking lot with her head held high.
Chapter Ten
“We’re so damn proud of you, Steph,” Raina said as she, Jillian, Paige, and Stephanie sat at a table at one of their favorite restaurants, celebrating the release of the Beverly Hills Lifestyle Magazine featuring the article on her business. “You’re going to be a famous fantasy bedroom designer, and we can all say we knew you when you were just starting out.”
Stephanie, smiling on the outside, even though she was still battered and bruised on the inside from Mac’s rejection nearly a week ago, joined in on the toast her friend had just made. She clinked her martini glass to the other raised drinks and tried her best to keep her spirits up, because her introduction in such a prestigious magazine was definitely something to be happy about. Especially since she was already receiving calls from new influential clients.
“Thank you, ladies,” she said, appreciating her friends and their support so much. “Here’s to all of us smart, beautiful women ruling the world.”
“Damn straight,” Raina agreed gleefully. “And I’ll be doing it one vibrator at a time.”
They all laughed at her statement, since Raina owned an upscale adult boutique and selling vibrators, and empowering women sexually, was literally her business.
“Kendall sends her love and congratulations,” Paige said as she set her glass of club soda on the table. “You know she’d be here if she could.”
“We do,” Jillian chimed in. “But that sweet, adorable baby is way more important right now and we all understand.”
Paige fidgeted in her seat. “So, yeah, umm . . . about having babies . . .”
All heads swiveled Paige’s way at what she was alluding to, and she grinned impishly.
“Are you saying what we all think you’re saying?” Raina asked.
Paige nodded. “Yes. I’m pregnant. About six weeks along.”
Everyone at the table spoke at once, and their high-pitched exclamations of excitement for Paige made so much noise that they drew stares from nearby customers. Not that any of them cared. There was going to be another baby in the group, and Stephanie was thrilled for her friend and her husband, Sawyer.
As Raina and Jillian fussed over Paige and pelted her with questions about the due date and if she wanted to know the sex of the baby before it was born and Sawyer’s reaction to the news, Stephanie listened in on the conversation and evaluated her response to the announcement, which was complete and genuine happiness. There was no pang of jealousy or the feeling that she was missing out on something important or the anxiety of her biological clock ticking.
She’d been truthful when she’d told Mac that she didn’t need a child to feel fulfilled as a woman. She had so many amazing things going on in her life, and as selfish as it might seem, she liked her freedom and independence. If she felt the urge for kid time, she had her nieces, and now Kendall’s and Paige’s babies. There was something wonderful about being able to love on a baby and enjoy all that sweet innocence . . . and then hand them back to the parent when she was done playing with them. It didn’t make her a bad person . . . it just made her honest about what she wanted for herself.
Unfortunately, Mac didn’t believe her and had taken it upon himself to be a martyr. It didn’t matter that she’d put her heart on the line for him or that she’d told him she was falling in love with him. All that seemed to do was make him push her away even more.
She’d spent the past five days fluctuating from anger at his stubborn stupidity, to the kind of hurt that felt like someone had stomped on her heart, to extreme sadness that she’d finally found a man who was everything she dreamed of, in bed and out of it, only to have it all snatched away because Mac was “doing what was best for her,” as if she wasn’t a grown woman who could make her own choices or decisions about what she wanted in her life.
As far as she was concerned, his excuses had been a load of crap. She could easily be all in with Mac, but she had no doubt that his fears of committing to another woman after his disastrous marriage were a large part of why he’d let her go. Though to his credit, Mac had warned her, because in the end, he’d walked away, just like he’d said he would. Because according to him, that’s what he did.
After a while, Paige said she needed to get home, and Raina followed suit. They both walked out of the restaurant, while Jillian and Stephanie stayed behind to finish their last drink.
Now that they were alone, her friend gave Stephanie a pointed look and drummed her fingers impatiently on the wooden surface of the table. “So, when are you going to tell me what happened between you and Mac?”
Stephanie shook her head. “You know the guy and his history with women better than most since you’ve known him so long, so his MO shouldn’t be hard to figure out. He cut me loose.”
Jillian winced at the bitter undertones in Stephanie’s voice before responding. “The thing is, you’re not like any of those other women. Not even close.”
Stephanie wished she could be happy to hear that, but the end results had been the same. “Clearly, that doesn’t seem to matter.”
“I think it does,” Jillian refuted as she sat back in her chair.
Stephanie exhaled on a humorless laugh. “He saw me holding Kendall’s baby and decided we were done because he’s had a vasectomy and can’t have kids, and I’m only twenty-seven so there’s no way for me to know if I’ll want babies in the future, and he could never give them to me, and blah, blah, blah.”
Jillian’s laughter was more heartfelt. “Okay, tell me how you really feel about it.”
She sighed, wondering how long it was going to take before she could wake up in the morning and not feel like she’d lost her best friend. Because that’s what Mac had become to her in his own way, and she missed not being able to talk to him and be with him. She now knew the man beneath the mysterious layers and his once brusque exterior, and it had only made her want him even more for all his flaws and vulnerabilities and fears. Unfortunately, he was letting those same doubts rule his emotions and those decisions he believed were for the best.
“I’m sorry,” Stephanie said, for being so sarcastic when her friend was trying to help her through a tough time. “My heart is just feeling like it’s been through the grinder. It hurts so damn bad, being rejected so rashly for holding a baby, for crying out loud.”
“It obviously scared him because you’re not like his othe
r playthings,” Jillian said again as she finished off the last of her Cosmo. “Trust me. I know Mac well enough to know he wouldn’t have freaked out if you didn’t mean something to him. He let you go because he cares about you . . . maybe even more than that. Pushing people out when they get too close is what he’s always done, especially when it comes to women. On the other hand, I’ve never seen Mac so fascinated with someone as he’s been with you, and according to Dean, he’s been miserable since the night he broke things off. Mac being torn up over a woman is definitely a first, as well.”
“Lucky me,” she muttered glumly. “But I don’t know how knowing all that changes anything between Mac and me. He left me, not the other way around.”
“True, but I’ve never known you to be a quitter or to give up so easily on something that matters to you,” Jillian said with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I say you give Mac one last glimpse of the woman you are and why he fell so hard for you in the first place.”
Stephanie tipped her head in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
“That last fantasy room you’ve yet to show him,” she said of the Fifty Shades suite that was still locked up. “Is there a reason why you’re still holding on to the keys when you should have handed them over last week?”
She felt her face warm as she admitted the truth. “This is going to sound pathetic, but I was hoping that maybe he’d come around and we’d be the first ones to use the room. Because I designed it for the dominant man he is and for the woman I’ve become with him.”
Jillian smiled softly. “That’s not pathetic at all. That sounds like a woman who wants to please the man she’s come to love.”
“Yeah,” Stephanie agreed, because that’s exactly how she felt. She wanted to be everything he needed—at The Players Club, and in real life.
“Then give him that,” Jillian said, her own experience with her husband, Dean, giving her the wisdom to know how to deal with a stubborn man. “Fight for him. Show Mac how powerful a woman’s love can be, because he’s never had that before.”