by Tawny Taylor
Another day.
Another dollar.
Yippee.
Then, it would be a night out with Jill, watching her work her usual haunts while I nursed a beer.
Even though Shane had given up calling me a few days ago, I couldn’t summon up the desire to get back into the game. The pain of our unofficial breakup was still fresh. If the dreams were any indication, I wasn’t even remotely close to being ready to get into another relationship.
It would be a lot easier if the stupid dreams would stop.
A lot easier.
What was it about that man? Why couldn’t I just let him go?
* * * * *
“Ohmygod, would you just look at them?” Jill screamed in my ear many hours later. As usual on a Friday night, she was holding a beer in one hand, a shot in another, and was on her way to a healthy buzz. We were sitting at her favorite table in her favorite club. She was trying not to gawk at the pack of men who’d just strolled through the door. Me, I was wishing I was at home, reading the book I’d picked up during my lunch break.
Jill nudged me. “Snap out of it.”
“Out of what?” I countered.
“Your funk. Since you flew home from Antigua, you’ve been moping around. I love you, hun, but it’s been two weeks. I’m getting impatient.”
“Do I need to remind you of your post-Dave breakdown?” I asked.
“No.”
“Give me a break.”
Jill sighed. “I’d never realized how hard it is to deal with someone else’s breakup depression.”
“That’s because I’d never been depressed after a breakup before. Usually I’m okay with it.”
“Not this time.”
“Not exactly. I’m thinking too much about what might have been.”
“Yeah. That’s what I do. Definitely. What got me out of my Dave funk was sitting down and listing all the reasons why Dave and I wouldn’t work. Maybe you should do the same thing?”
“Maybe.” At the moment, I could think of only one reason why Shane and I wouldn’t work. It was a biggie, sure. But I could think of a lot more reasons why I thought Shane and I would be good for each other.
“Stop thinking about him.” Standing, she circled the table, hooked her elbow through mine and half-walked, half-dragged me toward the bar where the hotties she’d been drooling over were congregated, waiting for the bartender to get their drinks.
“Hello,” she said when one of them glanced at us.
Hottie Number One beamed a friendly smile, gaze fixed on Jill’s half-exposed chest. “Hello.”
“I’m Jill. And this is my friend, Bristol.” She jerked her head in the general direction of the packed dance floor. “We’re looking for some dance partners.”
“Hmmm…I don’t dance, but my buddy does.” Hottie One nudged the guy next to him. Hottie Two glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Rod, the ladies want to dance.”
Rod gave each of us an up and down look. My skin crawled a little. I hated this place. It was a meat market. It was no wonder every guy Jill had ever met here was a loser. “Sure.” He, in turn, nudged the guy next to him, said something into his ear, and within seconds, Jill and I were being escorted to the dance floor. She was going eagerly. Me, not so much. But afraid I was becoming too much of a wet blanket, I tried to act like I was enjoying myself.
As soon as we stepped onto the dance floor, I regretted it. The guy yanked me against him, shoved a leg between mine and started grinding against me like a male stripper. It was vulgar and nasty and gave me the creeps. I tried to back up a little, but the minute there was a tiny fraction of space between his body and mine, he’d close it again. We were so close I could feel his erection through his clothes. Impressive as it was, I wasn’t in the mood.
When the song ended, I was hugely relieved. “Thanks,” I said.
He scowled. “What? That’s it? One dance?”
“Yes, one dance. What were you expecting?”
“Well, after the way you were dancing, a lot more.”
Me? Me!
“Sorry you got the wrong impression.” I stepped away, shoving between a pair of couples pawing at each other while swaying to the next song that had just started playing. I couldn’t find Jill. She seemed to have vanished.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d done this to me on more than one occasion, I might have been concerned. But she had. Lately, it was almost expected. She’d head outside for some fresh air, and end up in the car, shoving her tongue down some random guy’s throat.
Really, she needed to make some changes.
“Hey, I’m sorry. Come back. Let’s talk about this,” the jerk said. He was following me. A trip to the ladies’ room would take care of that.
I pushed and wiggled and shoved my way to the back hallway where the bathrooms were. Escape was just a few feet away. But then someone caught my wrist. I whirled around, hand raised.
I froze.
Shane.
Shane?
Shane!
“W-what are you doing here?” I stuttered, dropping my hand.
“I’m here with a friend.” His gaze wandered over my face, and I felt myself blushing. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” I fiddled with my hair. A strand was hanging over my face. “Um, so do you.”
“Have a drink with me.”
“Oh…I…”
Shane took my hand in his, and instantly I felt warm all over. All the emotions I’d been shoving aside since I’d seen him last rushed to the surface. I was overwhelmed, unsure what to do. I craved spending time with him, hearing his voice, seeing his face. But I knew I shouldn’t go with him. It was a big mistake. Huge.
I went with him anyway.
I was weak. Frighteningly so.
He led me to a table toward the back of the bar where it wasn’t so hot, or loud, or crowded. He pushed in my chair as I sat then took a seat across from me. With a wave, he somehow managed to summon a waitress. He ordered a bottle of wine then turned his attention back to me.
“So…where’s your friend?” I asked.
He waved his hand toward the dance floor. “She’s out there somewhere.”
She.
My stomach twisted.
She.
“I—I should—“
I started standing, but Shane slapped his hand over mine. “Please, don’t go.”
“Shane, I don’t want to interrupt anything--”
“You aren’t interrupting.”
Why did it make me so freaking happy to hear that? Why? “Of course I am.”
“If I was here with someone, I wouldn’t have asked you to join me,” he stated. “Kayla is a friend. Nothing more.”
The waitress broke through the thick wall of people in front of our table, set the open bottle of wine and glasses down and left.
“Hasn’t it been established that men and women can’t be friends?” I asked as I watched Shane pour the wine.
“By whom?” He handed me the full glass.
Our fingertips brushed. I tried to pretend that the little touch didn’t send a bolt of white hot erotic heat pulsing through my body.
It’s only chemistry. Chemistry means nothing.
I said, “By the authors of movies like, When Harry Met Sally.”
He chuckled. The sound bounced around inside me like the reverberating rumble of thunder echoing off distant buildings. “In this case, it’s not an issue. She’s gay and she’s the younger sister of a close friend.”
Another close friend.
He continued, “Every now and then, I accompany her on an outing so she can keep up appearances. Her family is very anti-gay.”
“I see.”
“So tell me, how are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Good.”
We stared at each other for an awkward moment.
I wanted to fill the silence. I wanted to tell him I dreamed about him every night. I wanted to tell him I missed him even thou
gh I didn’t want to.
Instead, I glanced around. “If you’re supposed to be keeping up appearances, maybe you’d better go find your friend and play doting boyfriend.”
He studied me for a moment then nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Okay, then. It was nice seeing you.”
“It was nice seeing you, too.”
Neither of us moved.
“I’d better go find my friend, too,” I said. Could this be any more awkward?
“Sure.”
Neither one of us moved.
“She’s going to be worried,” I explained.
“We wouldn’t want that.”
“And when she finds out I was talking to you, she’ll kill me.”
His smile was so bright and so breathtaking I practically melted. “We definitely don’t want that.”
I stood. “Goodbye, Shane.”
He stood too. “Goodbye.” He jerked his head toward the full glass sitting on the table. “Please, take it.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed the glass and circled around him, leaving as much space between us as I could. The place was packed. It certainly wasn’t a lot of space. Inches. It wasn’t enough. I could smell his cologne. I could feel the heat of his body. I hesitated, wishing I could lean in to him and stay there.
Remember, he shares his women. He has lots of women. And he’s not looking for a relationship. It’s all about bondage. Whips and chains and safewords and control. You made a break. Don’t go back. You’ll only regret it.
Pulling in a deep breath, I hiked up my chin and pushed on, wriggling through a crowd of men gawking at the women shaking their asses on the dance floor.
I’d done it. I’d talked to him without throwing myself at him. And had I wanted to.
Side stepping and inching through tiny gaps in the crowd, I made my way back to our table. Every now and then, I’d steal a little sip of wine. It was good. Really good. I discovered the table I’d been sharing with Jill was occupied. But not by Jill. I downed the rest of my wine, set the glass on the first empty horizontal surface I could find and headed outside.
Ah, much cooler. The air smelled better, not like stale beer and sweaty bodies. I click-clacked out to where I remembered having parked the car, on the street, in front of a bagel shop. I stopped. I looked left. I looked right. I went down another street and another. It wasn’t there.
It freaking wasn’t there.
“I am going to kill her,” I grumbled as I fished my phone out of my pocket. I listened to the phone ring. One, two, three…five, six. It clicked to voicemail and I left an angry message, asking her why she’d abandoned me then clicked off. A split second later, as I was scurrying back to the bar to decide what to do, my phone rang.
“Where are you?” I demanded. I was getting tired of being abandoned at the bar. Really effing tired of it.
“Um…” She giggled. “Stop that.” She giggled again.
“Jill, where are you?”
“Oh. Bristol? Hi. I ran into Dave at the bar. You remember Dave.”
Sure, I remembered Dave. How could I forget him? He’d used Jill to make an old girlfriend jealous and then dumped her like yesterday’s trash. The guy was an absolute asshole. “I’m ready to leave. Come and get me.”
“Oh. Sorry. I can’t.” She giggled again.
“Why not?”
“Well, because you parked the car illegally. It was towed.”
Gah!
Fortunately, I was near a bench. I plopped down.
“Bristol? I’ve gotta go.”
“Bye.” I ended the call.
If it wasn’t for the fact that Jill had been my best friend since I was in kindergarten, and had seen me through some of the biggest heartbreaks in my life, I might have vowed to never speak to her again after this. But she had been, and would always be, my best friend. And it hadn’t been her fault the car was towed. I was the one who’d told her it was okay to park in that spot.
I glanced around, suddenly aware of the fact that I was alone on the street. It was late. And there weren’t that many people out there with me.
Feeling a slight sense of unease, I started back toward the relative safety of the bar and the masses of people inside it. As I turned the corner, a black car pulled up alongside me and honked the horn. I glanced.
Looked like Shane’s car. The passenger side window was down. The woman in the seat was waving her hand out the window at me.
“Bristol!” she called.
The vehicle was idling at the curb, hazard lights blinking.
Great timing. Just great. If Shane found out I was stranded, he’d offer me a ride. I didn’t want him to do that because if he did, I would take it.
“Bristol Deatrich,” the woman said.
Against better judgment, I approached the car and peered into the window. “Hi.”
“Are you okay?” Shane asked.
“Sure. Of course I’m okay.”
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said.
“Thank you for the concern. I’m heading to my car. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“How about I make sure you get to your car safely? I can drive you to it. Where did you park?”
Of course he offered to drive me to my car.
“It isn’t necessary. I’m just down the street.” I pointed in a random direction.
“I don’t mind.”
“Really, it’s okay.”
He got out and circled the front end. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
His eyes narrowed.
Dammit, he was like a hound on the scent. “The car was towed.”
“I’ll take you home.”
“You don’t have to—“
“I insist.” He was already pushing me toward the car.
I managed to blurt out one last, “Really, it isn’t necessary,” before he’d practically forced me into the backseat.
Within seconds, we were zooming down the quiet streets, going in the opposite direction from my condo. He knew where I lived, so my assumption was he was taking his friend home first.
“You’re going the wrong way,” I told him, hoping he’d turn around and take me home first instead.
“Bristol, this is Kayla. Kayla, Bristol. Kayla lives just a few blocks from here. Since you and I live south, it makes sense to take her home first.”
It made sense, sure. But that meant I’d be in the car with Shane alone. I didn’t want to be in the car with Shane alone. Not for a minute. But I knew there would be no changing Shane’s mind, so I sat back and kept quiet during the short ride to Kayla’s place. A few minutes later, I learned she lived in a high priced condo in a converted old factory. Nice. Definitely more Shane’s speed.
I waited in the backseat while Shane walked his guest up to her building’s door. He didn’t touch her, I noticed. Nor did he kiss her. When he returned, he opened the passenger side door. “Why don’t you come up here and sit? I feel like a chauffeur.”
“All right.” I made myself comfy in the front seat, buckled in. As Shane pulled back out onto the street, I said, “Thank you for taking me home.”
“You’re welcome.”
As much as I wanted to sit closer to him, I forced myself to lean against the door the whole trip to my condo. Of course, like he had with Kayla, he walked me up to my door. But unlike what he’d done with her, he placed a hand on the small of my back as he did it. And he didn’t leave when I unlocked the door.
“Thanks again,” I said as I pushed open the door.
He didn’t move. “I’ve been waiting for a chance like this. Can I come in? For just a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”
Oh God.
Chapter 6
Maybe it was a dumb, impulsive, foolish thing to do. But I let Shane into my condo and I shut the door.
A part of me didn’t want to hear what he was there to say; another part did. The part that did got her way.
I motioned to the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?”
“No. This won’t take long.”
Good.
Appearing a little nervous, he glanced around my living room. “I’ve had some time to think about things, about you, about my life, about a lot of things. I even went to…a counselor. I’ve never done that. Not even when I was a kid.”
That had to be significant.
Wanting to avoid interrupting him, I didn’t speak, only nodded.
“I’ve concluded that I don’t deserve a woman like you. I don’t. I don’t know how to make you happy. I don’t know how to have a real relationship. I have…challenges…I need to work out.” He heaved a visible sigh. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”
At the sound of those words, my heart literally jumped in my chest. I could tell, by the way he’d said them, by the expression on his face, that I had become more than a submissive, more than a plaything to be used and then thrown aside when he became bored.
“What does this mean, Shane?”
“It means…I want to learn to be a better man. And I want you to teach me.”
I staggered a tiny bit. “Me?” I said through them.
“Yes, you. Only you. I don’t want another submissive. I want…a girlfriend. A lover. A partner.”
Those were the words I’d longed to hear. My spirit soared. My eyes burned. They were happy tears, not sad.
“No sharing?” I asked, almost afraid to believe what I was hearing.
“No. Never.”
“No other submissives?”
“No.”
“What about the rest of it? The bondage? The rules?”
“I can’t just turn it all off, and I don’t think you want me to.” His lips curled slightly into a hint of a smile.
“Maybe I don’t want you to turn it all off,” I admitted.
His smile amped up to full wattage. “Does that mean you’ll give me a chance?”
Did it?
I wanted Shane to be the man of my dreams. I had a feeling he could be. But how many times had I heard about the dangers of trying to change someone? Was it fair to expect him to change for me? Was it realistic?