by Kendall Ryan
When I arrive, I’m pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a smiling Brielle.
“You made it.” She hugs me. “Hale said he didn’t know if you’d be here.”
I nod and return her smile. The asshole didn’t even bother tell her that he snubbed me. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Hale stalks up, confusion etched across his face when he spots me. “Reece. You’re here.”
“You sound surprised, brother.” Now I’m just toying with him. The fuckwad.
“I didn’t know if you’d be able to tear yourself away from your activities at the club,” he returns, scowling.
We’re skirting around the elephant in the room. We both know we’re talking about Macey, yet we’re not.
“Of course I could. This is for you both.” I hand him an envelope containing a check for a thousand dollars. There’s nothing better to make him feel like shit for excluding me than cold, hard cash. “Congratulations.”
He peeks inside the envelope and his eyes widen. “Can I have a word?” Tipping his head at the bar, he and I start toward it, leaving Brielle to wonder what’s going on.
“What the fuck is this? You’re trying to buy me off because you know I’m pissed about you and Macey?” he asks, shoving the envelope in my face.
“That’s a gift. Keep it. I’m happy for you that you’ve found someone worthy of your affections this time. It has nothing to do with my involvement with Macey.” That’s the absolute truth.
The bartender heads over and we each order a drink, trying to figure out this new wedge between us. I thought things would blow over, but it’s growing worse.
Hale picks up his drink and the glass of champagne he ordered for his bride-to-be. “You know where I stand. Don’t fuck this up.” He heads back toward Brielle, leaving me to wonder what I’m really doing here.
I sip my Scotch slowly, surveying the room. Christ, everyone’s here. Oliver and Chrissy, and even a few members from the club are standing near the piano, chatting amiably. Everyone but me was included in the celebration, it seems.
When I spot Macey, it’s like all the air has been sucked from the room. My breathing hitches, and my hands ache to touch her. She’s stunning, entirely fuckable. She’s heading toward the bar, but she hasn’t seen me yet. Her gaze is on the floor, the long stem of an empty champagne glass between her fingers. She walks slowly, taking her time, and her eyes remain downcast as if she’s deep in thought.
I hate that some of the lively spark she’s known for seems to have slipped away. The urge to kiss her mouth, her neck, her chest flares inside me, and I have to tamp it down. Her hair is twisted into a fashionable knot at the nape of her neck, her dress is a deep plum color and strapless, drifting all the way to the floor. Her nails are still painted black.
She looks incredible. I haven’t seen her since I left her after our scene, and it strikes me again just how gorgeous she really is with that understated beauty. But leaving the way I did was the only option. Still, it torments me that I couldn’t provide her with aftercare, that I couldn’t be the one to draw her a warm bath and shampoo her hair. Nothing good would come of such intimacy, though, which was why I forced myself to leave.
“Hello,” I say when she’s closer, and her head snaps up.
“Oh. Reece.” She stops where she’s standing, as if she’s afraid to come any closer to the dangerous and unpredictable animal.
“Hi.” So much for a tempting pickup line. This woman turns me into a caveman capable only of uttering only single-syllable words. I’ve been trying to clear my head of the images of her hands bound with my ropes, the luscious spill of cleavage over her lacy bra, the expression on her face as I pushed her to her limits as she tried to hold back her orgasm. She did beautifully, and damn, she felt even better than perfection. But now, standing close enough that I can smell her sweet scent, I know I’m fighting a losing battle.
She lets out a deep exhale. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“I wasn’t invited.”
Her brows squeeze together. “Seriously?”
“I’m always serious.” I take another sip of my Scotch.
“So, I’m not the only one mad at you then,” she says confidently, her stance straightening.
“You’re mad?” This is news to me.
“You’re a selfish asshole and an idiot. Chrissy told me about your kink. I feel like a fool. I thought our history meant . . . You know what? Never mind, I don’t want to start a fight at my brother’s party.”
“My kink?” Now I’m really fucking confused.
She lowers her voice. “You only fuck in the mouth or the ass.” Her tone is biting.
She’s looking at me as if this information is disgusting, or like she feels sorry for me. But what am I supposed to say?
“It’s been that way for a long time, yes.” It’s just one of the tactics I employ to ensure I don’t fall for a woman. No sharing a bed, no intimacy, no sex. At least, not in the traditional sense. I hate the way her worried gaze latches onto mine, as if she’s trying to solve a riddle. “You thought I was going to make love to you? Sorry, sweetheart, I’m not that guy anymore. This is me. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll leave it. Good luck.” And with that, she lifts her chin and strides away, her heels clicking across the floor as her long, graceful legs carry her toward the exit.
Fuck. Why do I feel like someone’s punched me square in the chest? Rage boils unchecked inside me, and I want to hit something.
I down my drink, and am about to make a hasty exit myself when Oliver approaches.
“How are things progressing with Macey?” he asks, planting himself on the bar stool next to me.
“Just fucking terrific,” I lie, poorly. I couldn’t wipe the grimace off my face right now if I tried.
“Sarcasm. Another defense mechanism?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Careful. I’ve already taken shit from Hale tonight, and now Macey. Do you really want to fuck with me right now?”
Oliver orders a bottle of beer when the bartender approaches, but I know this conversation is far from over. His nostrils are flared, and a vein throbs at the base of his neck. “Listen. For once in your goddamn life, listen to me.”
He’s never taken on a rough tone with me, never been anything over than jovial. My head is spinning. “What the fuck have I done to piss you off?” Suddenly it strikes me, and I let out a bark of laughter. “Don’t even tell me you’re pissed off I kicked you out of that scene with Macey?”
“Of course not. God, will you listen to yourself?” He sets his beer down on the bar top and turns to face me, his eyes locked on mine and his expression serious. “I’ve known you for years, Reece. I’ve listened to the rumors, I’ve watched you take subs into your private room. In all that time you’ve never once asked for my help. But then suddenly you did, and I knew Macey was different. Just like that. I could see it in the way you looked at her, in the careful way you were with her. It wasn’t a game to you. You touched her like her skin was something to be worshipped, like her body was the most precious thing to you. And you looked like you wanted to murder me when I touched her. This girl means something to you. Don’t try to deny it.”
“She did. A long time ago. Not now. Not anymore. Besides, Hale would never fucking allow it, so it doesn’t even matter.” Something tells me if she didn’t just walk away from me, it probably would have fucked up my friendship with him for good.
“I know you want everyone to see you as this successful business owner and in-control Dominant. And you are those things—no question. But what I see is a man running from his past.”
I want to scream at him, to tell him that he’s wrong, to knock him on his ass. But fuck, this is Oliver. He’s practically a therapist—a sex therapist, but whatever. The guy knows his shit. That’s why he works for me. It’s why his waiting list for new clients is more than six months long.
“Fight for her. Go after her, talk to her. I know she means s
omething to you.”
“Yeah, but is it worth fucking up my friendship with Hale?”
He gazes at me like he feels sorry for me. “If she’s worth it, you’ll figure it out.”
I feel like someone stomped on my chest. It’s hard to breath, and even harder to see straight. “I have to go.” I don’t know where; I just know I need out of this suit and tie that’s trying to strangle me.
On my cab ride home, my mind is whirling. I consider texting Macey, just to check on her, to try to understand what I did wrong. All she wanted was a fun hookup, and I thought that’s exactly what I gave her. But then I realize texting would be a pussy move. I need to call her. Hear her voice.
It’s about to go to voice mail when she finally picks up.
“What do you want, Reece? I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”
“Just wanted to check on you. Are you home?”
“Yes. I’m in bed with a bag of microwave popcorn, about to start that new thriller everyone’s been talking about.”
“Are you still mad?” I ask, holding my breath. She doesn’t seem mad. Then again, she did run out of her brother’s engagement party after confronting me. I’m beginning to realize I don’t understand the first thing about women.
“More like disappointed. Confused.”
“I take it there won’t be a third lesson.”
“No.” Her tone is final.
Something deep inside of me snaps, and I can’t tell if it’s disappointment or relief. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault. I don’t know why I thought we could pick up where we left off. You’re right. You’re not that guy anymore.”
A little piece of my heart breaks hearing her say those words. It’s what I wanted, what I worked toward ever since she left, but now it seems I’ve locked my heart down so completely, I’m not even capable of giving her what she needs. Even when I need the exact same thing.
“Good night, Macey. Enjoy your movie.”
“Good-bye, Reece.”
Chapter Eleven
Reece
I hit the treadmill hard, pushing myself with my arms pumping, my lungs heaving with the need for oxygen. Loud, angry music blares in my ears. I’ve been fighting with myself for three days. I’ve hardly slept, I’ve hardly eaten, and I haven’t had any desire to take a submissive back to my playroom. I’m miserable all the time, and fuck if I know what to do about it.
Pressing the Incline button, I pump my legs faster to sprint up the hill to escape the recrimination playing inside my mind. Oliver’s words from the engagement party swim in my head. Macey’s defeated tone replays over and over. Hale’s anger. Shit, even Chrissy was shooting me evil glares that night once Macey stormed out.
I hate people pointing out my weaknesses; maybe that’s the Dominant within me. Then again, maybe that’s just part of being a man. We’re supposed to be the stronger of the species. We should protect and cherish what’s ours. But Macey isn’t mine. In fact, she wants nothing to do with the man I’ve become, which is a harsh fucking wake-up call.
All this time, my goal has been to prove to myself that I can enjoy some carnal pleasures with the girl from my past who once gutted me. Yet, achieving that goal has provided me with zero pleasure. Well, that’s not entirely true. Seeing Macey naked and bound in my playroom was pretty fucking awesome. But I fucked it up. All this time, my goal has been about protecting myself. Oliver was right.
Fuck.
A real Dominant isn’t concerned with his own needs. He puts his partner’s well-being and satisfaction above his own. I never did that with Macey. I was so worried about getting hurt again, I closed myself off. She was right—I treated her like any other sub, only worse.
Hitting the red Stop button, I step off the treadmill and fight to catch my breath. I grab my hand towel and use it to mop up the damp sweat on the back of my neck. Color flashes in my vision. She’s everywhere it seems. Marked on my body for all of eternity.
Glancing down at the blood-red rose tattooed on my forearm, I know what I need to do.
I grab my phone and dial Hale. “Hey, man, I’m sorry, can we talk?” I say without taking a breath. At least he answered. It’s a start. I hope.
“Not now.” His tone is clipped.
He’s going to make me grovel, and damn, I’m all too willing to do it. “I said I’m sorry, dude. I want to talk to you about—”
“It’s Nana. She’s in the hospital. She’s been in ICU for two days . . .” His voice cracks, and he doesn’t continue.
He doesn’t have to. Nana is like a second mother to him and Macey. The only family they have left in this world.
“Which hospital? I’m on my way.”
• • •
Running down the hospital corridor, I nearly plow into a parked wheelchair. Geez, take a breath. I slow myself down enough to read on the sign that the intensive care unit is on the sixth floor. Jabbing the button for the elevator repeatedly, I shift my weight from foot to foot, wondering if the stairs would be any faster.
Finally the elevator car arrives and delivers me to the sixth floor. There’s a private waiting room for family with someone in the ICU, which is a good thing, because I realize I don’t know Nana’s first or last name when I check in at the reception desk. I head down the too-quiet hallway and enter the waiting room at the end of the hall. It’s there I find Macey, alone and slumped in a plastic chair.
“Pancake?”
Her head lifts from its resting place on her arm, and her eyes are red and watery. She looks like hell, and something inside me clenches. “What are you doing here?” she asks, blinking up at me.
I cross the room in three long strides and draw her up into my arms. I pull her in firmly against my chest, and given our height difference, her feet dangle inches from the floor. For a second there, I think she might fight me, but instead she collapses against my chest, burrowing her face against my neck, and lets me hold her. It feels like coming home, as if this was the missing piece the entire last six years. But I don’t let myself focus on that for long.
“How is she?” I ask.
Macey sniffles and lifts her head from the warm spot she’s claimed as her own. “She’s eighty years old. They’re trying to prepare us for the worst.”
“Christ.” It’s worse than I thought. “Any news on what happened?”
She nods. “They think it was a stroke. Right now, she’s in a sleep-induced coma while they try to figure out what kind of damage the stroke may have caused.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I tug her toward me again, and her warm body forms to mine. She makes a small murmuring sound of appreciation. “Have you seen her yet?”
“Yes, and there are so many machines and tubes, I almost fainted. It’s horrible seeing her that way.”
“I’m here now. I’ve got you.” I ease us down onto the loveseat and continue holding her hand. “Why are you here alone? If I’d known . . .”
“Cameron and Brie went to the café to get more coffee. He sucks at just sitting here.”
“I see.”
Macey and I make small talk about inconsequential things like the weather and her new apartment. She tells me that she interviewed for a great job at a news station, then fills me in on the snafu when they first arrived at the hospital. The well-meaning hospital staff weren’t going to let Hale and Macey see her. They have some immediate-family-only rule. But you don’t come between an alpha male and his nana. Hale now has the nurses providing regular updates and extra-attentive care to Nana. Thank God.
I just listen and nod and let Macey talk, sensing it’s therapeutic for her. Sitting in silence when you’ve received bad news only makes your head churn with possibilities, most of which are negative.
Hale and Brielle soon return with steaming paper cups of coffee in hand. They hand one to Macey, who shakes her head. She slumps against me, resting her head on my shoulder. Hale lifts an eyebrow in my direction, but doesn’t say anything.
Being here wit
h Macey, taking care of her this way, sparks a thousand memories. Watching her eyes fill with tears as she blinks them back and tries to be strong, reminds me of not so long ago when she and Hale got the devastating phone call that no one should ever have to get. I held her through the hurt and the tears, and when her tears dried up weeks later, I’d grown accustomed to having her in my arms, to being the one to quiet her fears, and tell her everything would be okay. It seemed natural that our relationship would evolve from there.
I realize they’ve been here in this little room, worried sick, for two days. I take in her rumpled clothes and dark-circled eyes. “Have you eaten? Slept?”
She frowns, but doesn’t answer.
“I think you need to get some sleep, in a real bed, and a meal in you. It will make you feel better. Come on.” I rise to my feet, offering her my hand. “Let me take you home.”
“No, I can’t leave Nana.”
“Just for a couple hours, then I’ll bring you back.”
Hale glances at me, and we communicate without speaking. Our disagreement momentarily aside, this is about what’s best for Macey. Hale nods in her direction, encouraging her. “Let Reece take you home, Mace. Just to shower and rest.”
She sighs, but gives him a tight nod and takes my hand. “Okay.”
This is what she needed me to do all along. Take control and look after her needs. That damn throbbing pain is back in my chest.
The drive to her apartment is quiet as Macey stares out the window, obviously worried. After she showers, I tuck her into her unmade bed and tug the fluffy white duvet up to cover her.
She lets out a gentle sigh. “You’ll wake me in a few hours, and take me back to the hospital?”
Her eyes lock onto mine, and I know she’s putting her trust and faith into me when I’ve let her down the last few times we were together.
“Yes, of course I will.”
She closes her eyes and rolls onto her side, hugging the pillow to her chest.
I gaze down at her a moment, hating how I’ve let her down. She said she wasn’t mad, just disappointed in me, but I never wanted to be a source of disappointment for her. She has no job, a cheating ex, and a sick nana to stress over. I don’t want to add any more stress to her life. I just want to be here. For her. With her.