“No,” Max said.
“I love you, little brother. But I hate him. You can call me when he’s dead or not. I don’t care either way. But if you need me or if you need money to bury the old bastard, let me know.”
“I’ve got it covered.”
“All right, honey. I’m sorry if I sound harsh.”
“No, you’re not,” Max said.
“You’re right. I’m not. Take it easy.”
Max wasn’t sure he could handle talking to Ken right now. While not as overt as Jessie’s, Ken’s feelings toward their father were just as strong. He rubbed the pain in his forehead. He didn’t want to be here either. But he’d promised his mother he’d look after his father. Deathbed promises were the worst.
Slamming the door of the truck, Max strode into the facility hoping to get this over with as soon as possible. The nurse on duty smiled sadly at him.
“He’s awake,” she said. “But not very aware.”
“Thanks.” Max signed himself in and went to the room. He wasn’t in hospice yet, but the fragile old man propped up by the window looked as if he was fading fast. “Hi, Dad.” It came out hoarse, so he cleared his throat and sat down.
His father didn’t look away from the window.
“It’s a nice day,” he said inanely. “I brought my sketches, if you want to see them.”
On good days, his father would look at the pictures of the clothes, flipping through the sketchbook. He never said anything. There was never a look of either censure or delight in his dead eyes. But at least he responded.
Max tried to see him the way Jessie did, just so he could understand. The old man never hit him on a regular basis like he had with Max’s two older siblings. He was the baby, and his mother would shove him out of the way. After two other kids, she’d learned how to shield him from the worst of her husband’s rages. There was a time, though, after Max’s mother had shown him how to cut out a pattern and they were sewing it up. It was a Halloween costume. Max closed his eyes and tried to remember if it was a vampire’s cape or a tunic for a Renaissance warrior. Nothing. All he remembered was his father flipping the sewing machine over, breaking it.
“No son of mine is going to sew.”
It hadn’t mattered that Max was a football player and had a steady girlfriend. It didn’t matter that Max worked at a garage part-time. Sewing a costume had made him less of a man in his father’s eyes.
He got sent to his room. His mother had to clean up the mess. She even finished the costume for him. The sewing machine never worked right again, even after Max took it apart and fixed it.
“I started cutting out the patterns for the demo pieces,” he said, louder than normal.
His father turned slowly from the window, his face slack and his eyes blank.
“I’m going to sew them up once I get a free minute.”
No reaction.
“I have a serger and two sewing machines in my apartment.”
There was a slow blink.
“But don’t worry, I pay my rent by making women’s sexual fantasies come true. So it’s all good.”
His father didn’t even blink. And after a few moments, Max felt a little foolish.
“I met a girl,” he said. “Her name is Mallory. She’s a doctor. You’d like her. She wouldn’t like you, though.” He wasn’t sure where the words were coming from. “She’s hiding from her ex, who did a number on her. But she’s strong. Stronger than she knows. Mom was strong too. But she had us kids. That’s why she stayed. And then after we left, she had just gotten used to it.”
His father turned back to the window.
“I wish there was enough of you left that you could understand me,” Max whispered, clenching his fists.
The sound of the clock ticking in the room was very loud. “I spoke to Jessie today,” he said. “She says hi.” Max wondered why he bothered to lie. “Ken got another promotion. He’s working hard.”
A nurse came in to administer pills and check his father’s vitals. Max walked around the room. There were pictures of his mom and of the whole family. There was one of Jessie on a tire swing and Ken climbing the tree. Max was in a stroller nearby.
“Would you like to stay for lunch?” the nurse asked, wheeling his father away from the window. “It’s meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
“No,” Max said, swiping the back of his hand over his eyes. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Thank you for coming,” the nurse said. “It means a lot to him.”
“Yeah.” Max watched his father roll down the hall. “Yeah.”
He wondered if it was too early to start drinking as he fiddled with the car radio until he found a top-forty channel. He played the driving beat loud and drove a little too fast. Maybe he could fit in a workout. Eyeing the dashboard clock, he put his foot down on the gas pedal and made it back to Couture in record time.
After parking the truck in the garage, he opened the door to the stairwell and was surprised to see Mallory sitting on the landing, clutching her keys.
“Mallory,” he said, and she looked up with red, swollen eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m defective,” she sniffed.
He ran up the stairs to sit next to her. “What happened?”
“I got sick and tired of just waiting for my life to reboot so I could feel normal again. Tired of hiding out here like a scared kitten.”
“Have you made an appointment with Dr. Strauss?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had a few sessions. It’s been helping. I was going to go out and get a new cell phone with a different number. Maybe drive by the apartment and see if David’s car was there. I actually wanted to go in to work and explain where I’ve been for the past two months.”
“You should have waited for me. Or talked to Istvahn. He would have sent someone with you. Did David hurt you?”
A choking laugh bubbled out of her throat. “I never got out of the stairwell.” She threw her keys down the stairs with some force. “I was too scared. I’m so pathetic.”
He hugged her, tight. “You are not pathetic. You are perfect.”
Her arms were equally tight around him. “I’m ready to be normal,” Mallory told him.
“Do you want to go now? We can take my truck. He won’t recognize it. And I’ll be right there with you.”
She shook her head. “Not today. I just can’t. It took all my nerve to get to the stairs.”
“Not a problem,” he said, rubbing her shoulders.
“How do I do this, Max? How do I stop letting David control me?”
“Control is a very powerful thing, Mallory.” Max stroked the hair away from her face. “You gave him control and it’s hard to take it back.”
“Why couldn’t I have picked you to take control of me?”
Max’s hand stilled. He chose his words carefully. “You still could.”
Mallory’s eyes met his and at the look of determination in them he forgot to breathe. “You mean like what I saw in the conference room with Angie?”
A trickle of sweat ran down Max’s neck. “Not exactly.”
“Tell me more.”
“I shouldn’t even be doing this right now,” he said. He wanted to get the old man out of his head. He wanted to make love to Mallory. Both were very selfish reasons to take advantage of her vulnerability.
She put her hand in his. “I want you.”
His eyes closed shut. She wasn’t making this easier.
“I want to not be so afraid. I want to be able to trust again,” she said.
“Do you trust me?”
“More than I trust myself right now.”
“God, Mallory, that’s pretty heavy.” He opened his eyes.
“Why do the submissives do what you tell them to do?”
“They want to,” he said.
“What do they get out of it?”
“It’s different for different people.” Max stood up and helped her to her feet.
“They get
off,” she said.
“If I allow it.” Max put a bit of arrogance in his tone. He was delighted to see her shiver. He decided to see how far she was willing to go with this. Leaning his body into her, he pressed her up against the railing. She put a hand on his chest to steady herself. “Do you want a little taste of relinquishing control?”
“Please,” she whispered. “For just a few minutes, I don’t want to think. I don’t want to be responsible for anything. Not even my stupid emotions.”
“Then you’ll do exactly as I say.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“You said you trusted me. If you don’t, we can’t begin this.”
He watched her swallow hard. “Okay.”
“Be sure, Mallory. I don’t want to punish you.”
“How would you punish me?” Her eyes were wide and a little frightened.
“I would walk away.”
Her hand tightened on his shirt. “No, don’t.”
Leaning his head into her ear, he whispered, “Then let’s start.”
She was trembling, so he kissed her cheek before darting his tongue around the shell of her ear.
“Oh,” Mallory said softly, clutching his shoulders with both hands.
He kissed down to her cheek and across her jaw before he let his mouth taste the honey sweetness of hers. Licking her lower lip, he encouraged her to open her mouth wider for his tongue and spent an enjoyable few minutes just kissing her. He gave her a moment to catch her breath.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Dizzy,” she said. “Horny.” She laughed.
He rested his forehead on hers. “Unbutton your pants and pull them down to your knees.”
“Here?” she squawked.
He stepped back from her.
“No, wait.”
Max watched her bite her lip as she did what he asked. She wore pale peach panties. Lifting her, he sat her on the railing. Mallory gasped when the cool pipe hit the backs of her legs. Moving between her thighs, he kept his arm around her back to steady her. Slowly, he trailed his fingertips up her thigh.
“Spread your legs a little wider, please,” he said, kissing her temple when she responded. He traced the edge of her underwear. “Tell me, Mallory, if I put my finger inside these would you be wet?”
She nodded.
He stroked her over the thin fabric and found she was wet and hot. She made that pretty little “oh” sound again. He kept up the teasing until her hands clenched at his shoulders.
“Max,” she sighed.
“I want you to give me your orgasm.”
Her brow furrowed. “You want me to make you come?”
“No, sweet.” He kissed her neck as his fingers pushed the flimsy damp material aside. “I want you to. Come for me. Now.” His fingers glided over her clit.
Mallory sucked in a breath and her eyes locked with his.
“That’s right,” he encouraged. “For me.” His fingers moved swiftly against her swollen bud.
“Max!” she half screeched, her eyes wild.
He moved his fingers faster. He caught her head as it tilted back. “Yes,” he hissed as her body jerked. Her wetness coated his fingers as he rubbed her. Her thighs squeezed together.
“Come for me,” he ordered.
“Oh,” she sighed, her eyes electric on his.
The only sound in the stairwell was their ragged breathing and the wet sound of his fingers pleasuring her.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulders and Max grunted in approval as the orgasm shook her. He gentled his touch, barely touching her bud. He wished they were in Club Inferno. He’d strip her bare while she was recovering and then start all over again with his tongue.
Gasps escaped Mallory with each minute tickle. Max slowly withdrew his hand, his eyes burning into her sleepy blue ones. He’d like to see her hands tied over her head while he fucked her.
“That was incredible,” she said.
He pulled her pants back up and secured them. She was too tempting undressed and trusting.
“What about you?” Mallory asked.
Max licked her sweetness from his fingers and stifled a groan. “There’s time for me later. Right now, it’s about you.”
He took her hand and led her up the stairs. How could he get her to go downstairs with him? He knew he should walk away, but he kept playing scenarios through his mind and she was the star attraction. Just her and his rope.
“I’m still a little shaky,” she said.
“That’s okay.” He hugged her one-armed as they entered Couture.
“But I feel like some of those scattered pieces of me are coming back together. So I’m only a half-finished jigsaw puzzle now instead of a broken doll.”
Max kissed the top of her head. “I know how you feel.”
“There you are,” Colleen said, rounding the corner.
Max dropped his arm just as Mallory stepped away. Luckily, Colleen was too focused to notice anything amiss.
“I’ve got a great idea,” Colleen said.
Max suppressed a groan. That usually meant more work for him.
Chapter Nine
Still reeling from the scene—if that was what it was—in the stairwell, Mallory went back to her room to lie down for a bit. After a nice nap with a few erotic dreams, she took a shower to freshen up. Then she put on one of her new outfits and went out to see if she could find Max. It was payback time. She was going to make him come so hard, his head was going to explode.
But first, a cup of coffee was in order. As she walked around the fashion area trying to find the free coffee and cookies the brochure said they put out at teatime, Mallory heard a familiar voice.
“What time is the cosplay parade tonight?”
That was David’s sister, Chrissie. She was a sweetheart, if a total flake. Completely ga-ga over comic books. She took her mother’s maiden name because her father had been such a prick. Probably where David got his flying fists from, now that Mallory thought about it.
Mallory turned her back as Chrissie and her friend entered the room. Ducking her head, she fixed her coffee.
“Some people think Sailor Moon is too cliché, but I think it’s old school, you know?”
Mallory peered through the wave of her hair and saw that the man Chrissie was with was wearing a “My Little Pony” shirt and was listening intently. Hoping they were too involved in their conversation, Mallory snagged a cookie and sidled out of the room.
“Mal?” Chrissie said, just as she was about to get away clean.
Mallory didn’t break stride, but when she stepped into the hallway she ran as fast as she could without spilling her coffee. As soon as she hit the corner, she saw a door marked private and darted inside.
The gray industrial-strength carpet was like the yellow brick road and she followed it down the corridor. The door at the end was locked. Mallory looked over her shoulder to see if Chrissie had followed her. Jiggling the handle, she felt trapped and exposed. She couldn’t go back out there. If Chrissie knew she was here, she’d mention it to David and all Mallory’s escape plans would be blown to shit. A buzzer sounded and she felt the lock click open. Pushing inside, she closed the door behind her and the lock reengaged. Mallory let out a sigh of relief and leaned her back against the door.
Unlike the fashion wing, this section didn’t have glass windows overlooking sculpted gardens. The lights were dimmer, as if to give it an underground feel. She could hear running water and as she followed the sound, the light changed to reflect and shimmer and give the impression that she was walking under the sea.
“This is seriously neat,” Mallory said.
She heard the door she’d escaped through open and quickened her pace just in case Chrissie did have the magical pass to sexland. The corridor opened up to a large common area. Moving through it, avoiding everyone’s eyes, Mallory opened the first door she came to and walked into a session.
The teacher was a handsome man dressed like he’d walk
ed out of the pages of GQ. She smiled and waved when everyone looked up at her, hoping she wasn’t going to get in trouble for crashing the course.
“Hi, sorry I’m late,” she said and made her way to the back of the class. If she could just lay low for a while, Chrissie would get distracted or bored and Mallory could go find Colleen and let her know that they might have a problem.
“Are you here for the blow job class?”
Mallory bumped into a desk and nearly spilled her coffee.
“Uh-huh,” she said, sliding into her chair. Of all the gin joints in the world …
“Good, you’ve just missed the introductions. I’m Alex. Tell us a little bit about yourself and why you chose this class.”
All eyes turned on her and Mallory blanked. “Well, I’m a doctor,” she stuttered out. “I’m on vacation.” Well, not really, but it was better than blurting out the whole sordid tale. There were some friendly nods. “And I want to learn the fine art of …” she looked around helplessly, “sucking cock.”
There was a brief smattering of applause and Mallory’s face felt hot. She slurped down some coffee and was relieved when the teacher went on with his short lecture.
He demonstrated on a banana. It was hard not to picture her and Max doing the things Alex was demonstrating. She was looking forward to showing Max her new moves. But then Alex moved on to the advanced techniques. He stretched his lips around the bottom of a beer bottle to show off. Mallory opened her mouth and figured she’d have to unhinge her jaw to take in that width. But she gamely tried the techniques he demonstrated on the banana and wound up with a healthier snack than the cookie. She drank her coffee and glanced around the room. Men and women giggled and laughed. Mallory smiled at the eclectic demographics in the room. All ages, shapes, and colors, the only thing they all had in common was … well, the banana.
Maybe if the banana were frozen it would last longer? She put that suggestion on the feedback card Alex handed around. The class broke up shortly after a few questions about the gag reflex were addressed. Mallory remained in her seat, unsure if she should risk running into Chrissie again. She desperately looked around the room to find something to disguise herself with. All too soon she was the last one there, except for the teacher.
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