by Nora Stone
Now, panic had gripped me by the throat and my mind was screaming for the one jackass that had left me. Tears flooded my eyes. I knew I was about to faint. My last thought was, Campbell, where the fuck are you!?
Chapter 5
Everything went black. I awoke to a bright room and about six people, all in various states of undress, looking down at me. Campbell wasn’t amongst them. God, I was so embarrassed. Where the hell was he? Oh. My. God. I was going to cuss him out the next time I saw him. A pretty blonde asked if I was okay.
I nodded and crossed my hands over my chest. “Has anyone seen a guy by the name of Campbell?”
“Kitten, they’re all just Master to me. I heard him call you Kitten. Are you his new sub?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, but added, “I think I heard his voice down the hall. Hold up and I’ll go check.”
I muttered a ‘thank you’ and watched her leave the room. The guy that had been whipping me sat in a chair near the corner. He simply stared at me as if he was trying to figure me out. It made me uncomfortable.
Campbell suddenly reappeared. There was a slender woman wearing a black leather tight suit that walked in with him. She was hanging on his arm. He didn’t seem to understand that I was angry.
“Hey, Kitten. What’s up?”
I stared angrily at the woman, wondering when she would get a clue. After a second, I asked her, “Do you mind leaving us alone for a moment? I need to talk to Campbell.”
“Sure, Kitten. By the way, that’s my nickname, too,” the woman gushed. She was the same woman I’d heard earlier.
I watched her and the others walk out before turning to Campbell. “How could you leave me after you promised not to? And who the fuck is that!? Jeez-us, Campbell, I was having a panic attack! I tried to say the safe word and that guy didn’t even know what it was!” I stabbed my finger in the direction where the guy had been sitting.
“Susan, I told him your safe word. Katie, the woman you just met, is his wife. They’re friends of mine. I knew they were going to be here tonight. Geez, I thought you trusted me more than that,” he said.
I couldn’t believe he was putting this on me. “I did trust that you wouldn’t lie to me. That is the second time, Campbell. And this time, it was almost disastrous. What the hell were you thinking!?”
He made a face and shook his head slightly. I was infuriated.
“And I do not like being chained to a wall, suspended in the air at whoever’s mercy, and treated like a piece of meat getting beat as if you’re going to ship me off to the butcher.”
He rolled his eyes. “Babes…”
“No! Do not call me that again. And I’m not your fucking Kitten. We’re done. Don’t contact me again, Campbell.”
I started pulling on my leather outfit. He threw his hands in the air, being all dramatic as if I was taking something the wrong way. To me, it was simple. This BDSM stuff wasn’t for me. Sure, it was arousing, but I’d quickly realized that I like the more intimate and connected style of sex.
When I had my leathers tugged and zipped into place, I looked around and headed for the door. Let them laugh at me because I liked vanilla sex. They could kiss my ass for all I cared.
“Susan, can we at least talk about this? I really like you. In fact…” he started.
“Campbell, I like men that are honest with me. I do not like surprises, especially if they involve being whipped by another man without my permission. I like to be cherished during sex while snuggling in a bed, not tied to a fucking wall for you to command. And I might be a boss at work but I care about people. You don’t!”
Oh, I was so mad. I spun around and rushed back through the door. The music had been turned down but the bass was still thumping. I found the front door and realized he’d driven us here. I struggled to pull my cell phone out and then I called a cab.
Campbell emerged from the house to try to dissuade me from leaving. The few people mingling about heard me tell him that I didn’t want any part in being treated like a whore or a sex toy, traded amongst his friends, and that we were finished – nothing I said was said quietly.
He claimed that he’d developed feelings, but I told him we would never work. I didn’t believe that he cared. I also didn’t think he knew what real love was, nor how to be honest. Not after the unacceptable way he’d lied to me. I’d told him that I like to do things by the book. That did not include setting up a swinging party at an event where I’d expressly asked not to be left alone.
I was so angry by the time the car arrived that I snapped at the driver. Of course, I apologized after a few minutes. It wasn’t the poor driver’s fault that Campbell had turned out to be an asshole. I thought of Zoe and our last conversation.
Damn, I was such an idiot. Caught up in eye candy and our sexual tension. That son-of-a-bitch!
I cannot stand people who lie and keep secrets. If Campbell would have just asked me about trading partners, I would have told him I wasn’t comfortable with it. That’s probably why he didn’t ask me. The fucking jerk!
Anxiety and anger caused me to feel a crying jag coming on. I held myself together until I got home. Once safely inside my apartment, I pulled the leather outfit and satin lingerie off and shoved it all into a garbage bag. I dumped garbage on top of the expensive clothing. That’s how I felt about him. He was just garbage.
The tears finally started then. I collapsed onto my bed and let it all out. I curled around my pillow, but it smelled like Campbell. I threw it at the door and started stripping my sheets off. The whole time, I sobbed my eyes out while changing my bed sheets and pillow covers. After spraying my favorite perfume on them, just in case laundering didn’t remove his scent, I went back and curled around my pillow once again.
That’s how I fell asleep. The next morning, Campbell had left me a text. I deleted it without looking at it. I felt horrible, embarrassed, and my anxiety was all over the place. How could he have treated me like that? And why did those women just let those guys trade them like that? Didn’t they have any self-respect?
I was shaken and disillusioned more than I wanted to admit. There was no way I could work today so I called in. I felt so vulnerable and insecure. These weren’t feelings that I normally operated under as head nurse of St. Vincent’s diabetic ward. Hell, the violation I felt was so foreign that I stayed shaking on my couch for what seemed like forever. I didn’t even change out of my pajamas all day. I eyed the ice cream, a decedent gourmet coffee flavor, and then grabbed a spoon. Not bothering with a bowl, I dove in and chowed down on it until I thought I was going to be sick.
Television, especially crime movies, was my best friend all day. I avoided anything with romance, even commercials.
I turned my cell phone off when it vibrated for the third time. The day seemed to drag. I ate too much junk food and then destroyed the rest of that gallon of ice cream. Next, I was going to attack the chocolate covered cherry ice cream.
First, though, I needed coffee. While preparing my coffee maker, the aroma reminded me of Campbell and Zoe. I missed Mr. Kummings too.
I needed to talk to Zoe, to apologize for being such an idiot. But right now, I was too damn embarrassed and emotionally stunned to talk to anyone.
That night, someone knocked on my door. I thought it was Campbell and yelled, “Go the fuck away. I told you it’s over, Campbell!”
“It’s not Campbell, Susan. Open the door.” It was Zoe.
I shot off the couch and paused at the door. God, I felt horrible for not listening to her. I opened the door and she immediately hugged me.
I broke down crying again as I apologized to her. She was apologizing, too. After I had pulled myself together again, I wiped the tears from my eyes and told her what had happened. I expected her to tell me how stupid I had been for not leaving him the first time he’d lied to me.
Instead, she was very sympathetic. “It was a new relationship, Susan. All new couples explore. He probably thought you were okay with it after taking you to that leather s
hop and all. I mean, I understand your point. He shouldn’t have lied and then expected you to blindly trust him.” She wrinkled her nose and added, “And trading you with another couple is not cool at all, especially without asking. Who does that?”
I nodded, feeling better, and not like I was the crazy one for ending things with Campbell. I had turned my phone on throughout the day and peeked to see if he’d called. He had. I don’t know if it was some morbid curiosity or what. I didn’t read any of the texts or call him back, though.
“We did have some damn hot sex. I’m going to miss that. God, sometimes I hate being single. Dating sucks! Do you think he was telling the truth when he said he’d developed feelings for me?” I asked her.
“No, I don’t, because he broke a promise. Besides, it sounds like he cares more about lording it over women during sex than he does about your feelings,” Zoe pointed out.
“Yeah, you’re right. I deleted all his texts and voicemails.”
“Good. Feel like a cup of coffee while we talk?”
“That sounds excellent. I’ve missed our talks,” I told her.
She nodded, “So have I. With all the Campbell-is-so-hot talk, I realized how much I probably rattle on about Brian and me. I probably either bore you to death or make you sick, don’t I?”
I grinned and started to shake my head but she caught me. “Don’t try to deny it, Susan. I understand. Okay?”
I hugged her and breathed, “You do get on my nerves sometimes, but it’s all good. Now, tell me about trying to get pregnant and your relationship. I need to hear something normal.”
She laughed and started telling me the latest news in her battle with getting pregnant. She wanted to do in-vitro but Brian had reservations about it. “He argues that I have enough stress at my work, that in-vitro makes most women hormonal, and insists that it will disrupt our lives.”
“And you just want a baby,” I said with an understanding tone.
She nodded and uttered in a helpless tone, “I don’t know what to do, Susan. I don’t want to argue with Brian over this anymore. He told me last night that he didn’t know if he even wanted a child anymore.”
“Oh, Zoe, you know he does. The stress is just getting to him. And to you.” I hugged her again because I spotted her blinking away tears.
She swiped them away and asked in a whispery voice, “Should we adopt a baby? The thought scares the crap out of me. What if the mother decides she wants to keep it after everything?”
“Yeah, sometimes that happens, but you can’t let thoughts like that stop you. Keep adoption as a definite option. How does Brian feel about it?”
“He was the one that brought it up last week. I shot it down at first because my mind was set on in-vitro. I even had an appointment set up.”
We talked about surrogate mothers and overseas adoptions a little more. After a couple of cups of coffee and our talk, I felt much better.
“Are you coming into work tomorrow?” She asked.
“Yeah, they’ll send out the National Guard if I miss two days.”
She made a face and nodded. St. Vincent’s Hospital frowned on slacking employees or consecutive sick days that didn’t involve a hospital stay. I didn’t blame them since I’d seen the turnover rate fluctuate over the years. We hugged and said our goodbyes.
I felt a lot better after she left. Once I’d showered and dressed for bed, I turned my phone on and found a text from Campbell. I didn’t bother to read it but sent him a reply. Please stop contacting me. It’s over.
I deleted his number after that. Hopefully, he would get that I meant what I said. I wasn’t really looking forward to working the next day, but knew that I had to jump back in. No one at work knew that I’d gotten the crap embarrassed out of me.
I fell asleep with that thought nagging me. What if someone from work really did know that I’d been there?
Yet the next day at work, no one acted strange around me. They were just concerned since I’d missed a day. That was normal and very comforting. I rarely missed work. They could tell that my eyes were swollen and didn’t question my excuse when I claimed to be ‘under the weather’. Zoe and I resumed our daily breaks and lunches together. I worked hard at being a better friend. I knew that I’d become distant when dating Campbell. About a week after that horrible night, she asked if I’d checked on LoveMatch.com.
“I’m done with internet dating, Zoe. Hell, I’m done with dating.”
“Susan, you cannot give Campbell that kind of power. If you stop dating now, he wins.”
“Zoe, I’m not…never mind, I don’t want to talk about Campbell. I just don’t want to date right now. I need a break,” I told her.
“That’s the last thing you need. I know you. You’re thinking that it will be a short break. Before you know it, you’ll feel anxiety every time a guy asks you on a date. Trust me on this, Susan. You need to find someone right away to date so Campbell and that crap won’t be what you think dating is all about.”
What she said wasn’t far off. Every time I saw the little LoveMatch.com emblem on my computer, I could feel anxiety try to rise up. But, I was adamant. No more dates for now.
“I need a break. Seriously. Just give me some time. When I feel better about men, you can come over and we can wade through all the messages and find someone.”
“Are you still getting responses?” She asked.
“Yeah, quite a few. Did you get a lot of responses?”
“I got a lot of perverts that wanted cybersex, naked pictures, or a one-night stand. It was kind of easy to pick out the good ones for me. Have you had a lot of them asking for strange stuff?”
“I deleted those right away and blocked them, though I haven’t read the messages lately. Some of the others seemed nice.” She gave me an imploring look, so I told her, “I promise I won’t delete them all.”
True to my word, I took a long break. In fact, I took a whole month off. I avoided the Lan Su Chinese Gardens like the plague during this time, even though I was still curious over what Campbell’s team would create. What can I say? The man did good work.
He tried to contact me for the first few weeks after it happened. Somehow, he knew I wasn’t dating anyone else, which creeped me out a bit. That message showed up on the LoveMatch.com site’s e-mail when I went to check them. I sent him one last message telling him that I’d needed time to shake off my feelings of disillusionment. After that, I blocked him on the LoveMatch.com site.
Since I felt ready to try again, Zoe came over to my place in order to help me sort through all the messages. I hated to admit that I was looking for the polar opposite of Campbell.
One man kept catching my attention. I read aloud, “William Balfour, born and raised in Manchester, England, is an architect.” I tapped my lip while Zoe gave me an are you kidding me? look.
“What? He’s kind of cute in a nerdy sort of way?” I suggested.
“He just doesn’t look like your type. And he lives in England. He’s just in America temporarily. I mean, he rocks that nerdy look and all, but…” she trailed off with a shrug, “
“Ooh, maybe he has an accent.” I didn’t care what she thought. He had a certain nerdy confidence: thick-rimmed glasses hiding brown eyes and all. Still, he was charismatic in a cool kind of way.
I liked him already. I zipped off a message to him before she could say another word. Other than a lift of one shoulder, she stayed silent. When he didn’t reply back right away, I smiled. “He’s probably very busy, being an architect and all.”
She bumped my shoulder with hers and said, “Good luck. I’m going to go pick up a pregnancy test.”
“Hey, what did Brian say about surrogates or adopting?”
“We’re going to pursue adopting. I’m just getting a preggo test on the off chance.”
I nodded and gave her a hug. Hopefully, she’d quit stressing about it when they started actively looking at babies or pregnant women. I knew nothing about the adoption procedures so I kept my mouth s
hut.
After she left, I checked the messages again and found one from William. Taking a deep breath, I replied to his request to meet in a few days at a newly opened Japanese restaurant. Apparently, he’d just traveled to Japan and said the food at this restaurant was excellent.
He didn’t ask me to call and we didn’t trade cell numbers. Somehow, that was comforting. Over the next few days, we kept in contact solely through LoveMatch.com.
I had a weird feeling going to the restaurant. I just knew that I was going to encounter someone who looked nothing like his photo. But to my surprise, he not only matched the photo, but also looked rather romantic in a suit jacket and skinny tie.
He stood and thrust a hand out when I approached the table. I shook it and breathed, “Hi, William. So nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. You look very lovely.”
A bit of laughter slipped out at hearing his accent. His nose crinkled and he pushed his glasses up his nose. “The accent, right? Yeah, some love it and others hate it.”
“I’m with the former. It’s adorable,” I assured him. I didn’t want him to think I was laughing at him over it.
We got along easily and I absolutely loved hearing him talk. He was very knowledgeable about culture and various foods because he’d traveled extensively. He asked me what I wore around when I was relaxed at home. I told him my pajamas.
I thought it was a peculiar question and asked, “Does that say something about me as a person?”
“Oh, probably. I’d like to cook you dinner. You can bring a set of pajamas if you like. Would that be okay?”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Is that a British way of hitting on me?”
“Oh no. It’s my way of trying to impress you. I’m a rather good cook,” he said with a raised hand.
I blushed, but it felt good to build to that moment instead of knowing I’d wind up in bed with him because of any sexual tension. It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to William. I was already fantasizing about him saying sweet nothings to me in that accent.