I smoothed some filler into the inlay where a chunk of the “e” was missing. It wouldn’t be seamless, but it looked a hell of a lot better than the gaping hole. Once it was dry, I’d put a clear finish over the whole lid so it would be smooth and uniform.
While I filled the inlay, “White Christmas” still played in my head along with all the memories those few notes had resurrected. That was a hell of a time for her. For both of us, if I was honest with myself. Her father’s death had been sudden and more than a little unexpected, and Meredith was devastated. Up until recently, I’d have said I’d never in my life felt as helpless as I had then, when I desperately wanted to do something for her, but knew full well I couldn’t.
These days, powerless didn’t even begin to describe it. Even now, when I knew I’d helped her, that together we’d made more progress than I thought we would, I still questioned my ability to really help her.
Fix a music box? That I could do.
Help a sub face down a phobia involving bondage or pain? Easy.
Heal damage this extensive by taking on the role of the very thing that had broken her? Maybe. Maybe not.
I wouldn’t give up on her, that much was damned certain. I’d do whatever I could within my own abilities, and I hoped to God that was enough.
Not everything that was broken could be fixed, though. Like the vase she’d dropped in the storage unit, some things were beyond repair. If not beyond repair, then beyond my ability to repair them.
I just hoped, when it came to Meredith, I was working with a damaged music box, not a shattered vase.
Chapter 21
Byron St. Clair was a Dom I respected as much as Leslie. Though his wife Charlotte was his only regular sub, he wasn’t averse to partaking in scenes with others. We’d shared Charlotte more than a few times, we’d shared Amy and Kristen, and once in a while, other Doms and Dommes sought the two of us out at the club.
I trusted no other Dom on the planet more than I trusted Byron, particularly with a sub as fragile as Meredith. For the scenario she wanted, Byron had immediately come to mind.
He and I rarely saw each other outside the local BDSM club or each other’s home dungeons, but since our offices weren’t too far apart, we occasionally grabbed lunch during the week. Without letting on about why, I’d e-mailed him this morning to see if he was free, and he was.
Over lunch, we caught up and made small talk while I tried to work up the nerve to mention my situation with Meredith.
“How’s Charlotte?” I asked.
“She’s great,” he said. “Working herself into the ground these days, but what else is new?”
“Hasn’t she heard what they say about all work and no play?”
Byron smirked. “Who said anything about no play?”
I laughed.
“How are the girls?” he asked.
I didn’t feel the need to bring up the fact that Amy and I had split. That would just give us another reason not to get to what I needed to discuss with him, and I was doing a fine job avoiding it myself, so I didn’t go there.
“They’re both great. Busy as hell, of course. Amy’s been up to her ass in finishing her master’s thesis, and Kristen’s working on getting a promotion that will be a really good move for her.”
Byron smiled. “Good for them. When does Amy graduate?”
“I think she’s figuring on being done in December.”
“That’ll be a load off her mind,” he said, reaching for his drink.
Another load off her mind, yes. “No shit. You still planning on going back for yours?”
“Maybe. At this point, I don’t know if the time and money will be worth it for what a master’s would do for my career.” He shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“Can’t blame you.” I pushed my empty plate aside and sipped my drink. “I just finished paying for mine a couple of years ago. Glad I did it, but fuck if it didn’t hurt writing those checks.” I glanced at my watch. Still thirty minutes before I had to be back, but there was no sense putting it off any longer. I folded my hands on the table. “Listen, I need to ask a favor.”
His eyebrows jumped. “Sure, go ahead.”
I cleared my throat. “I have a new sub. My ex-girlfriend, actually.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded and made a dismissive gesture. “That part’s a long story. But as a sub, she has, to say the very least, been through hell and back.”
Byron’s posture stiffened. “In what way?”
“Two and a half years of forced submission, imprisonment, physical and emotional abuse, rape, gang rape, and some Stockholm Syndrome to go along with it.”
His eyes widened and he swallowed hard. “You’re kidding me.”
I shook my head. “Wish I was.”
“Fuck,” he breathed, shaking his head. “I’ve heard of some bad Doms, but I always hoped guys like that were an urban legend.”
“They’re not,” I said. “Not if the scars on her back are any indication.”
His lips parted. “What the fuck did he do to her?”
“Cat o’ nine tails.”
Byron flinched. “Jesus Christ. Is this guy local?”
“Another state. Specifically, another state penitentiary.”
“Thank God for that.” He raised his glass. “So now you’ve taken her on as a sub? After all of that?”
“At her request, yes.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “She got away from him a couple of years ago, and has had time to come to terms with everything. Now that she has, she wants her sexuality back.”
“Has she been to a counselor?”
I nodded. “She went to a few before who helped her deal with the abuse, and now I’m going with her to see Leslie on a regular basis.”
Byron blew out a breath. “Thank fuck for that. I was just about to suggest sending her to Les. Has that been helping?”
“Very much so. In fact, I’ve already discussed this particular favor with her, and it has her blessing.”
One eyebrow rose, and skepticism saturated his tone when he spoke. “That’s a… plus. So, what exactly do you need me to do?”
I took a breath. “Meredith’s ex had a thing for… watching.” I paused, swallowing hard. “He liked to bring strangers in and force her to submit to them.”
Byron inclined his head, a silent go on written in his eyes.
“It was a terrifying thing for her, especially the powerlessness.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “And she wants to face down that fear and powerlessness in a controlled, safe environment.”
His eyes widened again. “Scott, you’re not suggesting I join you, are you?”
I nodded slowly. “This is what she wants. It scared the living hell out of her before, but she’s always had fantasies about threesomes, exhibitionism, things like that.”
“So, is this like a rape fantasy?”
“Not exactly. I mean, she doesn’t want us to play it out like a rape scenario.” I steepled my fingers under my chin. “She isn’t interested in playing around with coercion or non-consent, but she does want to experience a threesome, with a stranger, on her terms. Under her control.”
He steepled his fingers in front of his lips. “So she can put a stop to it at any time.”
“Precisely.”
For a long moment, he said nothing. He furrowed his brow and focused on spinning his wedding ring around his third finger. Finally, he folded his hands behind his glass and looked at me. “I’m not going to pretend I don’t have reservations about this, Scott. You know her, she trusts you, but she doesn’t know me from Adam. I’ve topped plenty of women who didn’t know me, and I’ve played out kidnap and rape fantasies, but I’m not sure about playing the stranger in a scene with an actual rape victim.”
“I know, I understand. And I wasn’t so sure about it myself. To be honest, I don’t know for sure how it’ll go, I just know it’s something she wants to overcome. She wants to enjoy threesomes, and she wants to break the fear he pu
t into her.”
Byron took a breath. “I don’t know, having some fear relating to being fucked against her will by a total stranger seems healthy to me.”
“She’s not looking to be unafraid if some stranger really did to try to rape her again,” I said. “It’s just…” I paused, pursing my lips as I searched for the words. “Let’s put it this way. We both know it’s a scenario that can, under consensual, controlled circumstances, be incredibly pleasurable for a sub, right?”
He nodded.
“Her ex-husband took away her right to find that pleasure,” I said. “She wants to take it back.”
Sighing, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “How has she been with other types of kink? I mean, what else have you done with her?”
“We’ve been moving slowly,” I said. “Some flogging, tease and denial, some bondage.”
“How has that been going?”
“We’ve had a few… setbacks.” I paused. “Early on, something as simple as a familiar position or sound could trigger a flashback and a panic attack. But, with time, she’s gotten past that. She still has difficult moments, and she’s gotten scared a few times, but not like that.” I took a drink. “To be quite honest, she’s done much better than I expected.”
“Do you really think this will help her?”
I blew out a breath. “I know it’s what she wants. It could blow up in our faces, or it could be exactly what she needs.”
“And you’re willing to risk traumatizing her more if it does blow up in our faces?”
“She understands the risks. She’s understood them from the beginning. We’ve had a few steps forward and a few steps back.” I absently ran my finger around the rim of my glass. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s a great risk of traumatizing her with it. She trusts me. I trust you. She knows if she uses her safe words, we’ll both back off immediately. Which is exactly why she wants to do this. She wants to know what it’s like to be with two men who have her well-being in mind, and she wants to know she’s in control even when she’s playing the part of someone who’s given up that control.”
He played with the edge of his coaster. “I understand, I’m just concerned. She’s obviously been through a lot.” He looked at me. “I absolutely want to help in any way I can as long as I’m truly helping and not hindering.”
I smiled. “I know. That’s why I came to you. There are very few other Doms I’d trust with a scene like this involving a sub like this.”
His eyes lost focus for a moment, probably while he processed everything I’d thrown at him. “So, I assume I’ll meet her before we go through with this?”
I chewed my lip and shook my head.
He blinked. “Scott…”
“I’d have you meet her first, except part of the idea is that it has to be a stranger.”
Byron blew out a breath and rubbed his forehead. “Jesus, Scott. This whole thing…”
“Believe me, I know.”
He rested his elbow on the edge of the table and his chin on a loosely balled fist. “Are you sure this is a good idea? What about a threesome with someone she knows first?”
“We’ve done that.” I tapped the side of my glass with two fingers. “With Matt.”
“How did it go?”
“Pretty well,” I said. “Better than I thought it would, which is why I’m willing to consider this now. She used a safe word at one point, but I’m not sure if that was entirely panic or if she was testing the waters. After that, she was fine, and when it was all said and done, she loved it.”
“And you think she’s ready for a three-way with a stranger?”
I nodded. “A stranger to her, but not to me. She trusts my judgment, and she trusts me not to put her in the position her ex did. I trust you not to hurt her, so by extension, she does too.”
He took a breath. “So how do she and I communicate rules? Limits? That kind of thing.”
“Through me.” I sat up, resting my forearms on the table. “I know her limits and boundaries.”
Byron said nothing.
“If you’re not comfortable with this, then say no,” I said. “I know I’m asking a lot, and I wouldn’t strong-arm you into it any more than I would a sub or another Dom.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “I still have reservations about this. I’m not going to lie. That said, I trust your judgment and Leslie’s, and if you want me to help you with this, I will.”
“Thank you.” My own relief surprised me. “I’ll owe you big time.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Fair warning, she does top from the bottom sometimes.”
Byron laughed. “You sure she’s a sub?”
“Yeah, she’s definitely a sub. Maybe a switch at times, but I’d say her default setting is sub.” I took a drink, then went on. “She’s been known to suddenly get bold and either ask for something or just make a move. Honestly, in her case, I just run with it right now. I don’t know what the hell he did to her when she expressed any desire to try something or change things up, but she’s embarrassed as hell about asking for anything in bed. So, when she works up the courage to do it, I run with it.”
“That makes sense,” he said with a nod.
“It’s usually only when she suddenly gets up the nerve and wants to try something new, or if we’re dealing with something that’s scared her in the past. Quite frankly, I’d rather lose a little ground as a Dom than lose a lot of ground with getting her past this crap.”
“Can’t blame you there.” He pulled his sleeve back and checked his watch, then folded his hands on the table. “I still have a little time before I need to be back. Why don’t we talk rules?”
Chapter 22
I sat back in the chair in the corner of my bedroom. I regarded Meredith silently. Over and over, she’d assured me she wasn’t nervous. Not that nervous. Just a little nervous. Okay, nervous as hell.
Still, she wanted to go through with this, and she trusted me enough to do it. So here we were. I’d already put her into her submissive mode—left cheek, right—and now it was just a matter of getting started.
I licked my dry lips. “Strip.”
She swallowed hard and went for the first button of her blouse.
My heart pounded. This was what she wanted, I reminded myself, casting a couple of uncertain glance at the closed bedroom door. This was how it had played out in her past, and she wanted me to follow at least this part of the script.
Her panties landed on top of the rest of her clothes and her hands dropped to her sides. Not speaking, not moving, probably barely even breathing, she waited for my next command.
“Get on your knees.” I forced my own nerves out of my voice. “Facing the door.”
She took a deep breath, set her shoulders back, and did as I ordered. From where I sat, she was visible in profile, and I didn’t miss the ripple of a nervous swallow running down the front of her throat. I craned my neck to make sure she’d positioned herself far enough away to keep the door from hitting her when it opened. Satisfied she had, I sat back.
“Byron,” I called out. “Come in.”
The bedroom door opened. Byron stepped in, stopping a foot or so in front of her. He closed the door behind him, the quiet click echoing through the otherwise silent room. Meredith’s shoulders rose and fell as she took long, deep breaths.
For a woman in her position and with her history, he must have cut an intimidating figure. Unlike Matt in his unassuming jeans and plain shirt, Byron was dressed as a Dom. Tight black leather pants, high black boots, and no shirt; the look that made the women at the BDSM club wet.
Meredith shivered. Some of the color drained from her face.
Blood pounded in my ears. I licked my lips and said, “She’s all yours, Byron.”
He glanced at me, eyebrows lifted slightly. I nodded once. He returned it. Then he focused his attention on her. He ran his fingers through her hair and she closed her eyes, shivering. W
ith two fingers, he lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
“Stand up,” he said.
She rose. So did my heart rate.
Once she was on her feet, he walked around her, just as I often did. She flinched when he moved around behind her, where he could see her scars. Byron put his hands on her shoulders and kissed the side of her neck.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice gentle.
She nodded slowly.
“I asked you a question,” he said with a little more force this time.
“Yes, Sir,” she said quickly. “I’m fine. Sir.”
“Good girl.”
He ran his fingers through her hair. Once. Twice. The third time, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. Sliding his other hand over her hip, he drew her back against him.
“Am I making you nervous?” Even in the way he growled the question, there was gentleness and genuine concern.
“No, Sir.” Her voice trembled.
He kissed the side of her neck. “Do you want me to continue?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
Meredith exhaled and her shoulders fell. Some of the apprehension in her brow faded. She probably wondered what he had up his sleeve. Truth be told, so did I. Byron was easily a more sadistic Dom than I was. He was the one who’d helped me gain confidence with a cat o’ nine tails back when I was overly wary of hurting a sub. Hot wax, erotic asphyxiation, brutal floggings; if a sub wanted it, Byron would. While we were both definitely on the kinky end of the spectrum, he was farther from vanilla than I was.
But in this scene, he’d hold back on the kink. That much I knew from our conversations leading up to this. His very presence like this was plenty of kink alone, and he was a conscientious enough Dom not to overwhelm her with whips, bindings, and blindfolds.
What did he have planned? Her guess was as good as mine.
With his hands on her hips, he turned her and pushed her back up against the door. Not hard, not violently by any means, but still she gasped and her eyes widened slightly as she looked at him.
A second ticked by, and like a delayed reaction, her eyes widened even more, and there was nothing but panic in her face, in her too-paralyzed-to-fight-or-fly stance. When she tried to shrink back against the door, I was on my feet and—
Reconstructing Meredith (Light Switch Book 2) Page 23