You, Me, and the Crazy Ex: A Club Stigmata Novella

by Luckett, Elle

  The away from me part of the speech was left unsaid. Rising from his chair and not meeting any of our eyes, Matthew Ingram turned and left the room with no more acknowledgment.

  Kara pushed herself away from the desk violently, her chin held high as she glanced at the three of us defiantly. Her lips twisted into a sardonic smile that showed how little regret she held, and she turned those burning eyes on Denton.

  “I thought I loved you, but I never did. That’s why I got rid of that kid. The thought of anything that had a part of you inside of it coming from me made me sick. You were a bed and a warm body.”

  “Still recording, Kara.”

  She threw her arms up in defeat. “Who gives a fuck? I accept your deal. I don’t need you, anyway.”

  With that, she scribbled her signature on several pieces of paper, threw the pen at Denton, turned and walked away, her heels clipping against the expensive marble floor of the office as she went. I watched her until she disappeared completely.

  She’d taken the deal and was gone.

  I just hoped, for Denton’s sake, it was for good this time.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Denton and I spent weeks waiting for some kind of retaliation that never came. Though that time wasn’t wasted. We spent it together, and it only served to bring us closer.

  I’d fallen in love with this man over the course of a week, but after a month of spending time with him outside of all that drama, I was in so deep I couldn’t seem to remember what my world felt like before him. He fit into my life with an ease I couldn’t have anticipated. My family loved him to pieces, he’d struck up a friendship with Nate, and when I finally met the friends of his that Kara hadn’t chased away, and they seemed to enjoy my company, too.

  We fit.

  Our lives fit.

  Together, Denton and I found a balance that worked for both of us. Even when it came to our lifestyle and sexual preferences. He wasn’t looking for a full time submissive, and I wasn’t looking to be one. So, we’d relegated those moments of our D/s relationship to Club Stigmata, where I was now a proud new owner of a platinum bangle and a custom pair of leather cuffs that declared to the whole world that I, Emerson Henley, now belonged to Denton Strake.

  Because I did belong to him.

  My body, mind, and soul had been his the moment I’d sat next to him on that streetcar.

  “Tired, beautiful?”

  I blinked out of my reverie and smiled over at him as he pulled the car into his yard. It had been a long couple of days because I’d been out of town on business, but being home with him for the first time in three days, I was far from being tired. I was feeling needy.

  I had a craving for him that I couldn’t quite explain.

  “I’m just happy to be back,” I said grinning over at him. “I missed you guys.”

  Denton put the car in park as he rolled to a stop outside of his home. The moment he did, his hand wound around to the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled me to him for a long, hungry kiss that made my toes curl in my shoes.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since you got in the car.” He growled, unwilling to release his grip on me.

  It wasn’t often that Denton got the inkling to Dominate me sexually outside of Club Stigmata’s safe atmosphere like this. He would try and use that masterful sway of his to get his own way on occasion, and he enjoyed tying me up to his well-designed bed so he could have his wicked way with me, but this was one of the first times I’d felt the full power of him wash over me without any warning. The sexual hunger rolled from him like angry storm clouds seeking something to crash against, and it just so happened to find a willing participant in me with my mutual needs to consume.

  I guess absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

  Tightening his fingers, he pulled my head back and met my eyes, not giving me a chance to avoid direct contact. He wanted my permission first. He wanted the verbal and visual consent before he took what he wanted from me.

  “I think it’s time to introduce you to my personal dungeon. Do you trust me enough?”

  “More than anything, Sir.”

  His smile came as a slow curl on his lips as he studied my face for any sign that I was just giving him what he wanted. I made sure he understood that wasn’t the case. I didn’t just want this; I needed this as much as he seemed to. He was in full control, but hunger burned brightly in his beautiful blue eyes.

  “Good answer. I made you something while you were away.”

  “You did?”

  Denton smiled and released his grip on the back of my hair, his fingers instantly stroking to soothe the ache in the scalp there.

  “We’ll get to that. First, you need your rules for my dungeon.”

  “Okay.”

  One last quick study of my face and Denton got out of the car, headed around to my side, and offered me his hand once he’d pulled my door open. I took it more than willingly, rising to walk with him to his workshop.

  His dungeon had been a mystery to me since I’d met him. I hadn’t even known where it was located. Part of me had known he’d done that on purpose. Denton knew I trusted him implicitly, but the only environment I’d always been submissive in had been Club Stigmata—a place filled with safety nets and monitors, which were there to bail you out if it was necessary. I appreciated his consideration because he and I both knew that if he’d asked, I would have said yes, even if I weren’t ready. He just couldn’t have known that I wanted to please him since I’d declared that I’d loved him as openly as I had.

  I hadn’t said the words aloud since that night. Not because I regretted them in any way. I didn’t. I loved Denton. I’d loved him then, and I loved him all the more now, but considering the showdown with his ex-wife happened only days after that declaration, I’d chosen to show him how I felt about him rather than say the words aloud again. He’d done the same for me, and I felt it every moment we were together. It was hard not to feel loved when your body was worshipped in every physical and verbal way possible.

  Pushing the door aside, Denton allowed me to take the lead inside, and I inhaled deeply as I did. I loved the smell of Denton’s workshop. Sawdust always lingered in the corners of the room, and the scents of his trade caressed the air with a quiet promise of something special. This smell was familiar to me now, not only from when I was in here with him but with the way it clung to him. I would happily bury my face into his flesh in any given moment and just breathe him in like my very existence depended on it. Sometimes it felt as though it did.

  I was curious once we were inside. My eyes scanned the space, looking for any sign of his personal dungeon as I’d done a hundred times before, but the only other door in the room was to his office, and I’d already been in there.

  “The first rule,” Denton said, releasing the grip he’d had on me. “You don’t enter my dungeon unless you trust me. I would never hurt you, Emerson, but going into this room together means that you’re placing your safety into my hands, and that you trust me to stop with your safe word.”

  He circled me, coming to a stop behind me, where he gathered up my hair in his hands and began to band it into a bun at the back of my head. He ran his index finger down the nape of my neck when he was finished then followed the trail with his lips sending a warm shiver of anticipation down my spine.

  I trusted Denton with my life. More importantly, I trusted him with my heart, which was far more fragile.

  “I know that, Sir. I do trust you.”

  “I know, beautiful.”

  He left one last kiss on the back of my neck before he pulled away and circled me once more, this time stopping in front of me. I would have given anything to see his face, but his tone told me he was already in the zone, and we’d danced this dance so often I could read him almost as well as he could read me, so I kept my eyes on my feet.

  “Second rule,” he said, his hands reaching out to unbutton my blouse. “I need to know that you will use your safe word
if you’re uncomfortable at any time. I need to trust you as much as you trust me.” He paused when his hands were just under my breasts, and he spread his palms out so they covered my ribs, his thumbs brushing the underside of my lace bra reverently. “That I’ve invited you to play here is a testament to that trust. Do you understand?”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  With my eyes cast down, it was impossible to miss how aroused he was already, but I could have sworn his cock punctuated every Sir I offered with a twitch of delight. It made it impossible to concentrate or breathe when he did things like this—these personal touches that he would only ever use with me now.

  Leaning in, he continued to unbutton my blouse until the two sides fell away, and he brushed the swell of my breasts with his lips before easing the fabric back over my shoulders. He loosened the buttons at my wrists before slipping it off completely and draping the material over a vice next to us.

  “Lace,” he growled under his breath.

  “I was coming home to you,’ I whispered.

  Denton growled again, running his thumbnail up from the waist of my skirt, up over my belly to the clasp sitting between my breasts. He should have known that everything I did was done with him in mind. He lived there permanently these days.

  “Third rule,” he finally said, his voice thick with arousal. “You may not enter the dungeon without my consent.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Fourth rule,” he said, his palms flattening against my flesh and sliding around to my back where he started unzipping my skirt. “You can enter in no more clothing than lingerie.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  He didn’t let the material fall to the floor as I’d expected him to, instead choosing to guide it down over my hips, slowly crouching as he moved down my legs and moved one, and then the other out from the circle of material with a gentle squeeze on my calf, before rising and draping the skirt over the blouse on the vice. This left me standing in three-inch heels and lingerie.

  “You are gorgeous.”

  I could feel his eyes as they drifted over every inch of flesh exposed to him. The heat of it warmed me through in the air-conditioned space of his workshop. There was something empowering about the man you loved looking at you like you were the only thing he would ever want—the only thing that would satisfy his hunger. It fed my submissive side—my inherent need to please. Today, it stole my breath from me.

  “Fifth rule,” he whispered as he stepped into my body and pressed his soft cotton T-shirt against my exposed skin. “Respect.”

  “Always.” I released on a stuttered breath. “Sir.”

  Denton pressed his face into the curve between my neck and shoulder, and he breathed me in as his hands cupped my ass and pulled me against him. My eyes slid closed as his warm breath bathed me, and my hands twitched at my sides longing to touch him.

  “You ready to play?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  Stepping away, Denton headed across the room to a huge armoire that had been there for as long as I’d known him. I peeked up and watched as he pulled the doors open to reveal a broad entrance that led to a small staircase. I tried not to smile, but it was impossible. Only he would have been able to pull off something like that. It was the perfect spot for it, too. I hadn’t even noticed there was a second floor over that half of the workshop.

  “Emerson.”

  He held out his hand to me, and I moved across the room on legs that were trembling with excitement, slipping my hand into his. Leading me through the doors, he stopped and pulled them closed behind us before taking my hand in one of his and resting the other on the small of my back as he moved again and led us slowly up the stairs.

  “I refurbished the whole room after my divorce, but I wanted you to know that I added a couple of pieces specifically with you in mind.” He stopped outside a double door. Releasing his hold on me, he gripped both handles in his hands and pushed them aside.

  The room was stunning.

  You wouldn’t have thought it was a part of his workshop. Dark brocade wallpaper sat above dark stained wainscoting. Shelves in the same stained wood lined one wall, holding every toy and device I could have ever imagined, and some I hadn’t. Whips, crops, and floggers hung in neat rows. The furniture was familiar, mostly, although he’d put his own spin on the classics. His St. Andrews cross had been treated with the same stain and was polished to a high sheen. The curve of it was subliminal. The sawhorse still had the A-frame, but there were extra parts, like padded platforms and retractable braces and stirrups—even a small bracket for what I could only imagine was a dildo. He was far more talented and inventive when it came to his toys and furniture. When I found the considerable bed along the far wall, I couldn’t stop my smile. It was rigged for any possibility. Brackets and braces ran between the four posts above it, while chains and D rings hung from them. Yet, even with all the extra attachments, it still managed to look elegant.

  “Once you’re inside, remove your underwear but leave your heels on and make your way to the foot of the bed. Your present is in a box at the end. You may open it and use what’s inside. I’m just going to gather what we’re going to need.”

  I didn’t respond verbally, just stepped inside, slipping past him as I approached the bed, my hands already working the clasp of my bra before sliding it down my arms and discarding it on the bed beside the box. I slid my matching underwear down my legs and stepped out of them, adding them to the bra before reaching for the small black box held together with a single red ribbon.

  I felt Denton approach as I released the bow, felt the rush of his hot breath on my neck as I pulled the top of the box free, and felt his chest against my back when I gasped at the contents.

  Inside was a set of beautiful leather cuffs lined with the softest material I had ever seen in my life.

  They were stunning, with Denton’s name in print along the metal fastener. They were important.

  As much as I loved them, it was the other item in the box that made me emotional, and Denton knew it, too. His strong arms wound around my body and pulled me back against him, enveloping me in warmth, safety, and affection as I trembled.

  The beautiful choker was stunning and intricately designed to represent its purpose: a collar.

  “Denton, I…”

  Turning me slowly in his arms, Denton kept me close, only loosening one hand to angle my chin, so our eyes finally met. I could see them burning again, filled with every emotion he held inside, every ounce of love that he was pouring into me.

  “You can think about it if you need time,” he said confidently, his lips brushing mine. “But I knew the first time I saw you that you would be mine, Emerson. I love you. I will always love you, so you have time to decide if it’s what you want.”

  “I don’t need time,” I whispered back, my hands reaching up to cradle his face. “Collar me. I’m yours.”

  He kissed me. A kiss filled with love and urgency as our bodies pressed together in quiet desperation.

  Even being this close was never close enough. He was all I would ever want, and hearing those three little words from him was more powerful than I’d anticipated. I’d been lying to myself saying that knowing was enough because hearing the words moved something inside of me. It shifted, changing me indefinitely.

  I was officially his now. The formality of it just sealed what I’d already known in my heart.

  “I love you,” I said breathlessly as he reached for the collar and placed it around my neck where it belonged.

  Sliding his warm hand around the nape of my neck, Denton squeezed gently as he angled my face to his and stole another kiss. He pulled away with a smile I knew I would never forget, his voice thick and hoarse.

  “Say it again,” he teased.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  It was then that he devoured me.

  THE END

  Suggested Playlist


  What You Do To Me – John Legend

  FEVER – Elley Duhé

  America – Aurelia

  Vertigo – Khalid

  When My Body Breaks – Kandle, Peter Dreimanis, Holy Smoke

  Us – Tiny Deaths

  Scorpio – Pour Vous

  Rest Your Head – Lyves

  Russian Soul – Skott

  Dust (Feat. Malik Harris) – Cosby

  Fair Play – Van Morrison

  Velvet Green – Tsar B

  Deeper – Valerie Broussard, Lindsey Stirling

  Live Wire – Meghan Kabir

  The Death of Me – Meg Myers

  The Bird – SYML

  Stigmata – Grandson

  Heat – L.A. Rose

  If you’d like, you can also listen to the playlist on:

  Spotify or Youtube

  About the Author

  Elle Luckett was born in Houston, mainly in the mind of L.J. Stock. As the darker side of a generally light personality, she became the voice that would tell lustful stories, something born from a very vivid imagination and an amass of characters with some interesting habits and tastes.

  Elle Luckett Web

  Also by Elle Luckett

  Club Stigmata Universe

  The Favor

  – Club Stigmata Novellas –

  You, Me, and The Memories

  You, Me, and The Crazy Ex

  You, Me, and The Stalker (2020)

  Gilded Knot Series

  Reckless Abandon