“The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive. In all seriousness, he seems to be a great guy. Mark’s a very respectful kid. And from what Mark said on the way home from dinner on Wednesday, he’s firmly in camp When’s the Wedding.”
“He is?”
“Yeah. No subtlety at all, either.”
“But back to my question. How do I know if I’m any good at it?”
“I can’t answer it for you in any concrete way. What Wylie and I have is different from what you’ll have with Brad, and not just because we’re gay and you’re het. I’m still learning. Wylie’s been in the lifestyle for years, and he’s been a great teacher. He likes a lot of impact play and bondage and stuff. And what we do might not be anything like what you and Brad want to do.”
She stared out the windshield. “How do I know if I’m going too far?”
“He should tell you. Look, to be blunt, Wylie is my slave and I’m his Master. I haven’t formally collared him yet, but we want to have a ceremony and—”
“Can we come?”
The speed of her question caught him off guard. “Yeah, of course, if you want to.”
“That’s awesome! Thank you.”
“Anyway, as I was going to say, we use safewords even though he’s my slave. Some people don’t, but that’s how I want to do it. The point I was trying to make is you don’t have to do it the way we do it, or the way anyone else does it. Brad strikes me as a pretty Alpha kind of guy. I’ve seen FemDom couples, and Female-Led Relationships, like Rusty and Eliza, and—”
“No. Way! Rusty and Eliza? Oh, my god, that makes total sense.”
He winced, but knew their friends wouldn’t have minded him “outing” them to Lara, of all people. “Yeah, maybe you should talk to her, too, about all of this. Or our friend, Tilly. But you’ve seen Rusty. He is a masochist, but normally, if you didn’t know they were kinky, you wouldn’t assume he was submissive to her, would you?”
“No.” She let out a laugh. “Can I admit something?”
“Sure.”
“This is stupid when I look at it now, but I always loved watching them together. When I griped at you in the beginning about not being bossy? I was thinking a lot about what they had.”
He started laughing. “Yeah, if we’d known about all this before, and I hadn’t had my head up my ass, we could have gotten everything straightened out and saved you some wasted years. I’m really sorry about that, sweetheart.”
She reached over and rested her hand on his thigh, the way she used to when they were together. “Please don’t apologize. I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything. I needed you. I wouldn’t have made it through losing Cameron without you.”
He covered her hand with his. “And I guess I wouldn’t have met Wylie, either.”
“And I wouldn’t have met Brad.”
At a light, he looked at her. “Hooray for my head up my ass, huh?”
She smiled. “In this case, yeah.”
Chapter Nine
They had a good talk during the ride to Brad’s. Everett assured her she could always ask him questions.
Easier than ever, now that she would be living across the road from him.
She noticed Mark and Jacob weren’t around when they pulled in and she walked inside to see Brad had already supervised swapping out the bed in the room for hers, as well as getting the other furniture in there moved out to make room for what they could.
“Where’s the boys?”
He kissed her. “They’re still out riding. I suspect they’ll be gone for several hours.” He smirked. “Hopefully behaving themselves.”
“Behaving?”
“Being careful, I should have said.” He motioned to the room. “Is this okay, Ma’am? Or would you prefer we arrange it differently?”
“No, it’s great, thanks. Sorry to put you out sooner than we’d planned.”
He grinned. “Oh, nooo, please don’t make me spend an extra night under the same roof with you.”
“Smartass.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at her and leaned in to whisper, “Your ass, Ma’am.” He headed back outside as she turned to watch him walk away.
Aaaand there went her panties. Totally soaked. Living under the same roof with him would be a sweet kind of torture, and…
Shit!
She wondered how she’d manage to sneak in a vibrator sound check. If it could be heard by Mark…
Dammit. It might be a really long two weeks, in that case.
* * * *
Jacob and Mark arrived home from their ride shortly after Lara and Ev reached Brad’s. The boys pitched in to help immediately, without even being asked, as soon as Brad told them why the move was happening today.
They’d almost finished unloading everything from the vehicles and trailer and were still in the process of getting everything moved into the house and rearranged when Eve drove up.
Lara shot Ev a look. “Did you call her?”
He grinned. “Text.”
Eve looked ready to do battle when she walked up and hugged Lara. “Okay, so who’s the fucktard, and what do I need to do to him?”
“I thought you were a corporate attorney?”
“I am, but I have friends. What happened?”
Lara felt guilty talking while everyone else was working, but Brad made her retreat to the kitchen to talk while they continued moving her in. After she told Eve the story, the woman pulled out her cell and noted Steve’s name and the information Lara could recall off the top of her head.
“Okay, so I’ll get this going and see if we can get you an RO. Might not be enough to get one, but I’ll talk to a friend and let them make the call. If we try for one knowing it won’t be granted, that could risk pissing the guy off even worse.”
“I damn sure don’t need that.”
“Exactly.”
“So do I basically have to hope he won’t escalate this, or wait until he actually hurts me to do something?”
“That’s the catch-22. Try to be careful leaving work, though.”
“Why?”
“So he doesn’t follow you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Now the idea of a concealed carry permit was sounding better. “But I’m showing houses. Most of the time alone. Sometimes people meet me there, and sometimes people come to the office and they ride with me.”
“Even more reason you should have one.”
With everyone ganging up on her, Lara knew she needed to look into it.
Once Eve had left, with a promise to call Lara and keep her posted, Lara rejoined the moving effort. Pretty much everything was in her bedroom, furniture-wise. She’d already hung her clothes in the closet there. Some boxes marked Bedroom had been stacked in the exercise room to keep them out of the way until she could unpack them.
Deciding to tackle the bathroom first, she started emptying those boxes. It was about the same size as the one she’d used all the time at the apartment, so at least it didn’t feel like downsizing in that way. As she emptied boxes she broke them down to be put out in the garage and saved.
Just in case.
She hoped she wouldn’t be moving again, but she was a realist. After what she’d just been through, she knew she couldn’t afford to romanticize life any longer.
Taking care of herself had to be her priority. She’d done pretty well between healing from Everett and then meeting Steve. What she’d forgotten to do was always listen to her gut instincts.
Too many times she’d ignored or let things slide with Steve.
Never again.
She heard a noise in the doorway and turned to see Brad standing there with a box in his hands.
“These were your pictures that had been hanging on the wall. Did you want me to hang them for you?”
Part of her loved him for the offer.
Then…reality poked its head in and knocked.
Hard.
“Just sit the box in my bedroom, please. I’m no
t ready to hang them yet.”
“I don’t mind.”
“It’s okay. That can wait.”
“You can hang them wherever you want. I don’t mind.”
“I—” She snapped her mouth shut on the irritation struggling to break through. Instead, she walked over and leaned in to kiss him. “Thank you. Just put them in my bedroom, please.”
His melancholy expression nearly softened her reserve. “Yes, Ma’am,” he quietly said, heading that way.
Oh, boy.
* * * *
It almost felt like she’d spookily read his mind. Brad set the box on the bedroom floor, out of the way.
He’d hoped if she’d let him hang the pictures for her that it might be another reason to help convince her to stay. After the events of that morning, he wouldn’t blame her if she needed some time to herself and moved out into a place of her own.
It was almost six in the evening when they finally hit a stopping point. All her stuff was either in the garage, or inside the house where she could sort through it. Lara ordered several pizzas for everyone, and Andy’s wife, Charlotte, had come over to help, too.
As they sat at Brad’s dining room table, the first time it’d been used by so many people in at least a couple of years, he tried not to stare at Lara.
He didn’t want to creep her out, but he couldn’t help but want to let out a victory whoop that she was living with them.
“I wonder what the shit-stain told his parents,” Lara said.
“Steve?” Everett asked.
“Yeah. I blocked their numbers, too, and his work number. I don’t think he’s smart enough to know how to spoof a number, although he might use a burner.”
“Can you screen calls?” Brad asked.
“I can, except that screws me working. I use my personal cell.”
“You should probably get a new cell phone,” Wylie suggested. “I had to do that. Only give the number to friends and family, and tell them not to give Steve the number.”
“Yeah. I should probably do that.”
Exhaustion had settled over her features. She’d pulled her brown hair back into a ponytail, but stray strands stuck out all over now and her hazel eyes looked weighted down by the day’s events.
“Thanks again, everyone,” she said. “I really appreciate the help today.”
Everett patted her shoulder. “You know we have your back.”
Brad nodded in agreement but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much else to be said without sounding like an idiot.
Eventually, everyone else left, until it was just Brad, Lara, Mark, and Jacob. The boys were immersed in a movie on the family room TV. Brad and Lara still sat at the table, him at one end, her just to his right.
He reached over and laid a hand over hers, his thumb gently stroking hers. “Is there anything I can do for you, Ma’am?” he softly asked.
A sad smile curved her lips. “No. It’s finally settling in. Everything happened so dang fast. I’m…shell-shocked, I guess. I still can’t understand Steve’s reaction.”
“I know we talked about two weeks, but we can take longer than that. I don’t want to pressure you.”
Her smile widened. She turned her hand over, palm up, to lace fingers with him. “Oh, no, you don’t. No weaseling out on me.” She squeezed.
He squeezed back.
“When do you think he’ll tell Breanna?” she asked, tipping her head toward the family room area.
“She’s out of town until late Tuesday. We’re supposed to have dinner with her Wednesday night.”
“Good luck.”
He smiled. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re coming, too, unless you have to work.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. If nothing else, because Mark and Jacob trust you. And, again, if Jacob needs a ride out of there immediately so that Mark and I can deal with her.”
“Ah.” She slowly nodded. “Okay. I can meet you wherever after work.”
“Sounds good.”
“Now, if you don’t mind,” she said, “I’m going to take a shower and collapse. I know I have a ton of stuff to do still, but I’ll tackle it tomorrow.”
“We’ll help.”
“Thanks.” She leaned over and brushed a kiss across his lips before standing and heading for the hallway.
Sitting back in his chair, he wondered if she really would stay.
All he could do was hope and pray.
* * * *
Lara had gotten most of her clothes put away in the dressers and closet. There was still a bag of stuff she didn’t wear as often, rapidly dumped into a garbage bag for faster transport, but she didn’t need anything out of there tonight.
She grabbed a T-shirt, shorts, and panties, and headed for her bathroom.
It felt…weird. Sure, she’d traveled, and spent nights at Steve’s, but this was her new home, and the adjustment period had come at her faster than she’d planned.
In her mind, she’d planned how she’d spend tonight. Eating leftovers from the fridge to help get rid of them, sitting in front of the TV and watching old movies, then one last night of sleep in the room she’d spent a considerable number of years in while remembering her time with Ev.
She wouldn’t trade those years for anything. Sure, they’d had bumps that had progressively worsened. Seen now in retrospect, with the truth out, she felt guilty he’d tried so hard for her.
That was true love, even if not the kind she’d needed and wanted from him.
Scary how easy her rapport with Brad had come about. She knew a good chunk of his expectations, and he knew hers. They would apparently dovetail nicely when it came to personalities and relationship roles.
There would be no continuous, subtle battles for dominance like she’d had with Steve.
I’m an idiot.
Another side effect of hindsight, she could clearly see Steve’s pattern. Giving in but pressing later, her “reminding” him and him getting testy, but pulling back. And again. And again.
Frequently, with her giving in, at least in part.
Hell, she’d bought clothes he’d insisted she needed as part of her wardrobe. And the first time he took her to meet his parents, he’d basically ordered her to go change out of the nice dress she’d been wearing into one of his “approved” outfits.
To avoid the fight, because he was being an idiot, she’d claimed the moral high ground and changed and called him out on his childish behavior.
But, then again, he’d won, in his brain, even if he had apologized later and acted all sweet and charming.
Never. Again.
If a relationship between her and Brad was to last long-term, he’d have to get used to the fact right off the bat that he would not be controlling her. He might want her to be dominant, but she’d also be hands-off in a lot of ways. She didn’t want a puppet, she wanted a willing partner. One whose spirit she didn’t crush in the process. There had to be a happy middle ground so they both got what they needed and wanted.
At least I have Everett and Wylie to talk to.
After letting the hot water soak the worst of the aches out of her body, she returned to her bedroom and shut the door behind her. Turning on the TV, which for now sat on her dresser, she found an old movie, set the timer, and crawled under the sheets.
Even the window was on a different side than she was used to, facing to the east, not the south. The blinds were drawn, but she realized she might have to look into getting a blackout curtain to hang behind them.
Guess I might end up becoming a morning person at this rate.
Chapter Ten
Lara didn’t even want to open her eyes the next morning.
Everything hurt.
Hurt in a bad way she hadn’t felt since she’d stopped doing SCA because she didn’t have time for it anymore.
Ugh.
When she rolled over toward the window, she squinted as a sliver of sunlight snuck between two of the blinds and hit her right in the face.
Dou
ble ugh.
That meant blackout curtains would top her list of things to buy. During work days, not so bad. But on her days off, she liked to sleep in late.
Finally forcing herself to sit up, she realized she smelled coffee brewing, but didn’t hear anyone moving around in the house. She’d removed her shorts for sleeping, but instead of pulling them on she grabbed her bathrobe and donned it. Bathroom, then to the kitchen, where someone had left her favorite mug on the counter, next to a clean spoon and the sugar shaker.
Huh.
She vaguely remembered mentioning to Brad yesterday when they were packing up the last of her kitchen supplies that the Deadpool mug was her favorite, but it’d been a passing comment, a brief moment of shared geekdom.
And he remembered.
It touched her.
She found both milk and half-and-half in the fridge, along with her two containers of flavored creamer from her fridge. She’d never even seen them move those. All the contents of her fridge had been put in the one out in the garage.
Or so she’d thought.
Looking deeper, she spotted a few of her leftover containers, and some of her condiments that weren’t duplicates of theirs.
Too caffeine-deprived to contemplate that at the moment, she grabbed her Irish cream-flavored creamer, poured some into her mug, added an extra spoonful of sugar, and poured her coffee.
It was…
Her favorite. A mocha-flavored one she bought at Publix. When she opened the cabinet directly above the coffeemaker, she found her coffee sitting in there with theirs.
Well, what do you know?
Wandering into the living room, she realized it was after nine o’clock, later than she’d planned on sleeping today because of everything she had to do. There appeared to be no sign of the boys or of Brad.
That’s when it hit her.
Duh, they’re taking care of the animals.
She returned to her bedroom and pulled on shorts to resume unpacking. It was nearly eleven when she heard the front door open and close again. She looked up as Brad walked down the hall, stopping in her doorway.
“Good morning, Ma’am.”
She shivered. Yeah, she loved that.
Fire in the Hole Page 8