Fifty Shades of Pink: An LA Lovers Novella

by Jourdyn Kelly

  “I didn’t fix it for her. I bought it from her. I set up a shell corporation, and used it to purchase the club.”

  My Rebecca is full of surprises. Wait. Did I just call her my Rebecca? I’m determined to make that come true.

  “Did she know it was you?”

  “Not at first. I did it as a surprise for her. I was going to get it back in the black, and give it back to her. So, the ‘new owner’ kept her on as a manager. She kept up appearances for her staff, still acting like she was the owner.” She sighs. “But losing the club sent her on a downward spiral, and things between us started getting bad. So, in hopes of making her feel better, I told her what I did. I paid for that one.”

  “Why, Rebecca? Why did you stay?” I’m pretty sure that’s the wrong thing to ask, but you know me and my mouth. “I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t be,” she interrupts. “It’s a legitimate question. I obviously had the means.” She shrugs as though she’s not really sure herself why she stayed. Maybe she’s not.

  “You loved her.” I say it like it answers everything. And, believe me, I hate saying it. I’m being irrational again, but thinking of her loving that horrible woman hurt me.

  She laughs, but there’s nothing joyful in the sound. “No. I hated her. At least I did at the end. If anything, I was infatuated with her at the most. Her strength and control intrigued me. She introduced me to this lifestyle, and I became addicted. It wasn’t bad in the beginning, Cassidy.”

  “And, when it turned bad?”

  “By that point, she had ingrained in my head that it was my duty as her Sub to do as she commands. Like I said before, I was so naïve and impressionable that she convinced me what she did to me was normal for those who practice this type of relationship. I hate to use that as an excuse, but I really didn’t know that her version of this way of life was extreme. I know that’s probably hard for you to understand.”

  “Not really,” I confess. “I did things with you I never thought I would do without questioning it.”

  She frowns. “That’s exactly what I wanted to avoid when I took over the club.”

  “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, Rebecca,” I explain quickly. “You’re nothing like her.”

  “I never want to be,” she says softly. “The moment she took her last breath, I stopped being a Sub. Unfortunately, that also meant I was lost. It took the staff fighting over who should take control of the club that snapped me out of it. I took over the club, fired everyone, exhaustively vetted a new staff, and donned the mask.”

  “And became Mistress?”

  “Yes. Even my staff knows me only as Mistress. They don’t know Rebecca. I needed my control back, and that was the start. Becoming a true Dom was the next.” She glances at me as though she was debating her next words. That doesn’t make me nervous at all. Just please don’t let her tell me details of what she did with others in the Pink Room. “Every person I brought into that room was carefully selected in order to build myself up. I know that sounds callous, but I made sure that they all left feeling that everything they did in that room was their decision.”

  I remember feeling the same way when I was with her. Shit. I guess I really was just another notch on her whip. Talk about feeling lost. That’s exactly how I feel right now.

  “Is it normal for a Sub to become a Dom?” Yeah, I’m reaching for anything to talk about that will help me stop feeling sorry for myself. Hell, maybe I’ll become a Dom myself.

  “For some. Some are very set in their roles. Others use the experience as a stepping stone.” She tilts her head, and her eyebrows furrow. Though I wonder what she’s thinking, for the first time since meeting her I wish she wouldn’t do that.

  I have to start making myself understand that what we did meant nothing to her. But she said she chose her Subs carefully. How did she choose me? And why? I wonder if I would have been better off not following her that night. I quickly discard that thought, because no matter what she did or didn’t feel, I had never felt more alive. Which is why I feel so bad now.

  “Why me?” I just had to ask, didn’t I? I wish so much that I didn’t sound so defeated.

  She lets out a sharp laugh. “Believe me, Cassidy, I tried to stay away from you.” Oh great. That makes me feel so much better. I’m startled when she touches the back of my hand softly. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Before you walked into my club, I had decided I was done. I was getting nothing from it anymore. In fact, there hadn’t been anyone in my room for months.”

  “A myth.” I remember then what the waitress had said to me. If Rebecca hadn’t been with anyone in months, it’s even more confusing why she would break that with me.

  “Excuse me?”

  I tear my gaze away from the pattern I’m tracing on the bench. “My waitress that night. When I asked her about the card, she said she thought that it was a myth.”

  She nods with a little smile. “It had been a long time. But when I saw you walk in with Miranda, I wanted you.”

  Her words send a shiver through my body. There’s a hint of desire even now, and once again I’m being confused by this woman.

  “I fought with myself, telling myself to leave you alone,” she continues before I can say anything. “Next thing I knew, I was buying you a drink. No matter how hard I tried to stay clear of you, my body had other ideas.”

  “What was so wrong with me that you tried to avoid me?” I’m hurting. My pride, my feelings. What was I lacking?

  “Nothing is wrong with you. I tried to stay for many reasons. The biggest one being that I knew things would be different with you in that room.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, and again, I get the feeling that she’s debating just how much to tell me. “I know what you think happened with the others, but you’re wrong. None of them ever saw me without my mask. None of them ever saw me naked. You did.”

  I frown. What did that mean? Were they blindfolded?

  “I never had sex with any of them, Cassidy.”

  Wait. What? How is that possible? Isn’t that what that lifestyle was all about? The pain and pleasure of sex? “But,” I shake my head, trying to understand. “I… we…” Oh goody. I’m back to being eloquent.

  “It was never about sex. It was about control. For both parties. That’s what I meant when I said I chose them carefully. They were more interested in just giving their bodies over to the pleasure of the pain. That’s what they got off on. I never touched them without some sort of instrument of torture. Touching me was off limits. No exceptions. Until you. I broke all of my rules with you.”

  “Not all of them.” My head is spinning with this new information, but not so much that I don’t remember how she stopped every time it started getting more personal. I may regret this question, but here I go. “Did you feel anything for me, Rebecca?”

  “Oh, Cassidy.” She scoots closer to me, and my heart triples in speed when she touches my face gently. “I felt too much. It’s why I had to leave. It’s why I should leave now.” She drops her hand, and stands.

  “Oh no!” I grab both of her hands, turning her until she’s facing me, and hold on for dear life. “I’m not letting you walk away again, Rebecca. You said it was for the best, but didn’t say why. You said it was what was healthiest, but still no reason. I need a reason. A legitimate, concrete reason.”

  Her expression is almost comical. She’s a cross between irritated and terrified. It’s the terrified part that piques my curiosity.

  “I don’t know how to have a real relationship, Cassidy.”

  I wonder if she thinks that sounds as lame as I do. It’s a weak excuse at best. “I’ve never been in a serious relationship, either. So we’ll learn. Together.”

  She shakes her head a little. “I’m damaged. Why would you want to get involved with that?”

  “We all have our demons, Rebecca. Yours may be a bit more complicated, but I don’t care. I want to be there for you.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

&n
bsp; “I’m trying to! And, so far, your excuses are feeble. Give me a real reason!” At least she’s not trying to pull her hands away. For the moment, she’s my captive.

  She blows out a frustrated breath. “Fine. You want a real reason? I am technically old enough to be your mother, Cassidy!”

  “Bullshit!” Who the hell does she think she’s trying to fool? If she thinks she can get away with that lie, she’s sorely mistaken. And now I’m thinking about being sore… with her. Ahem. Move on, Cass. “You know I’m twenty-five, right? You can’t be more than five years older than me.”

  “It’s not nice to lie to your Mistress, Cassidy.”

  Your Mistress. She said it! She called herself mine! My nose flares with the desire I see reflected in her eyes. Get a grip, Cass! You have to convince her that you belong together before you can think of sex with her again.

  “I have no reason to lie to you. The most you can be is ten years older than me. And that’s pushing it. Besides my mom is like that much older than my dad.”

  Her head drops back, and she lets out this little noise. It’s probably more frustration, but it still sounds sexy. When her eyes come back to mine, they’re full of determination. Join the club, woman. I’m just as determined to get you to say yes to me.

  “Cassidy, I’m sixteen years older than you.”

  “Bullshit!” Seriously, is that the only word in my ‘shocked’ vocabulary? Even Rebecca rolls her eyes a little at my unimaginative outburst. I can’t help it! She’s telling me she’s forty-one years old! “Damn!”

  “Exactly.” Now she tries to pull away.

  “Uh-uh, nope. You’re not going anywhere.” I spread our linked hands, and look—okay, leer—at her. “Well, shit. I just figured out what my problem has been all along. I’ve been dating down when I should be dating up! If this is what forty-one looks like, sign me up!”

  She smiles a little, but if fades quickly. Doesn’t matter. I totally saw it.

  “And when we have nothing in common?” she asks.

  “More to talk about.” Easy answer. Come on, lady. You’re going to have to do better than that. Another smile tugs at her beautiful, full lips.

  “Mmhmm. And when your parents and friends disapprove?”

  I’ll admit to being a little worried about my parents. But not enough. “I’m an adult, Rebecca. I’ve been making my own decisions for a while now. Besides, like I said, mom is older than dad.”

  “Cassidy! I’m probably closer to their age than I am yours.” She wrinkles her cute little nose. She’s so damned adorable.

  “I don’t care. It’s my life, and I want you in it, Rebecca.” I think I’m wearing her down. So far, none of her excuses are holding up.

  “Okay. How about when you’re thirty-five and I’m fifty-one?” Again she crinkles her nose. I almost laugh out loud. That must be the little thing she does when she finds something particularly unpleasant. I’m guessing her age is one of those things.

  “Then I hope I can keep up with you.”

  “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

  “When something is important to me, yes.” I squeeze her hands lightly. “Rebecca, you’re afraid you don’t know how to have a real relationship because you’ve never had one. But even if you had, all relationships are different. There’s no magic recipe. We work at it, and we find our own way. Nothing is a guarantee. Hell, you could wake up next week, and figure out I’m some immature idiot. It would devastate me, but at least I’ll know that I was courageous enough to give it a try. I’ve learned enough in the times I’ve been with you to know that I’m willing to take a risk. I know you’re scared, Rebecca. I’m scared, too. But, please, let me be the risk you take.”

  She stares at me for what seems to be an eternity, and I think I might spontaneously combust if she doesn’t answer me soon.

  “God, why can’t I stay away from you?” She pulls her hands from mine, and—oh, God—wraps them around my neck. My brain is in slow motion as she lowers her lips to mine and kisses me.

  BLISS. HEAVENLY, MAGNIFICENT bliss. That is the only way to describe the way it feels having Rebecca’s lips on mine. I know I said coming with her was heaven, but I was wrong. It’s being kissed by her.

  “Kiss me again,” I urge roughly when she pulls away. “Please, Rebecca.”

  She complies, brushing those luscious lips against mine. Her tongue touches my bottom lip, and I moan, opening up to her—mouth and legs. I pull her between my thighs, feeling the heat of her body against mine even through the layers of clothing. Our tongues battle for dominance, and just like its owner, my tongue submits to hers. My need for her is growing so intense, and I have apparently lost control of my hands. At the present moment, they are resting on Rebecca’s perfect ass. And when I say resting, I totally mean squeezing her ass to see if I can get her even closer.

  “No, don’t pull away,” I plead, trying to keep her in my arms. If she tells me she’s not ready for this, I will die. No joke. I will keel over.

  “I’m a mistress, not an exhibitionist.”

  God, it just does something to me when she calls herself a mistress. Maybe it’s because it makes me think of everything that happened in that room. But what I want from her now has nothing to do with any of that.

  I follow her gaze behind me. Sure enough, we’ve caught the attention of a few people. Some of the guys look like they want to join. No way, buddy. She’s mine. I stand, and can’t help the cocky little smile when she has to tilt her head back to keep her eyes locked with mine. If the lust behind her stare is any indication, she likes that I’m taller than her.

  “Go somewhere with me,” I murmur against her lips. Sue me, I needed another taste. Everyone watching can either get over it, or have fun wishing they were me right now.

  “Where?” Her eyes flutter closed when I pull her even closer, and continue feathering kisses on her lips and cheeks.

  “My place. Yours. Anywhere but the Pink Room.” I cup her cheek in my palm. “I want to know what it’s like with you outside of that room, Rebecca. I want to make love with you.”

  There’s a bit of trepidation in her gaze, and I swear she’s debating again. We’re going to have to work on that.

  “I don’t know how,” she whispers. She doesn’t know how to make love? How is it possible that no one has been tender and loving with this beautiful woman? Not that I have any experience in that area, but that’s been my choice. It had always just been about getting off. A bit of fun. I want so much more with Rebecca.

  “Would you like to learn?” I ask, and I’m reminded of the first time we met. Rebecca—or Mistress—had asked me if I would like to learn about what they did at the club. Best thing I ever did was say yes. “We could teach each other.”

  “Yes.”

  WE DECIDED TO go to my place, which is fine with me. If I get let into her world at some point, I don’t care where we are. As long as we’re together. I couldn’t convince Rebecca to ride with me, so I watch as her sporty, silver Mercedes pulls into my driveway behind my truck.

  She doesn’t get out immediately, but I don’t go to her. I wait for her to make the decision to join me. Please join me. When I see her close her eyes, and take a long, deep breath, I hold my own. Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave. Finally, I’m able to breathe again when she steps out. I give her a smile, and hold my hand out to her. She takes it, squeezing lightly.

  Shit. Now that we’re here, standing at my front door, I’m nervous as fuck. My hands are trembling, but I try to hide it as I struggle with getting the door unlocked.

  “This is a beautiful home,” she says. I wonder if she’s trying to calm me, even though I can feel the small quiver in her own hand.

  I shrug, almost letting out a cry of victory when the door finally unlocks. “It’s not much…”

  “Cassidy, it’s beautiful,” she interrupts with a bit of force. Okay. Note to self, when Mistress gives a compliment, just say thank you. I can totally do that.
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br />   “Thank you.” I guide her inside, hoping to hell the place is semi-clean. I’m not necessarily a messy person, but I haven’t felt up to doing much of anything except sulking. So far, so good. No dirty dishes or pizza boxes lying around. “Would you, um, like something to drink?”

  “Water is good.”

  Water. I don’t know about her, but I could definitely use something stronger than water right now.

  “I have something stronger if you’d like?”

  She smiles, and traces a finger across my jaw. “I want to be completely sober for this, Cassidy.” She kisses me softly before stepping back again. Well, hell. I can’t argue with that logic. Water it is.

  “Be right back.” I gesture around us. “Make yourself at home.”

  Where the hell is all this anxiety coming from? It’s not like this is our first time together. Hell, she tied me up, and put things places, and I wasn’t half as nervous then as I am now. Come on, Cass. You got this. Just do everything opposite of what you normally do. Go slow, savor her. That’s easy to do. I want to worship this woman.

  I nod my resolve, grab the bottles of water—eye the beer longingly—and set off to rejoin Rebecca. She’s standing close to a wall with a painted mural of a beach scene. Her hand runs across the featureless face of a mermaid in the crest of a wave.

  “It’s not quite done.” Score one for Captain Obvious. Sigh, I’m sure it’s pretty clear to her that it’s not done. “I—I just couldn’t find my muse for the mermaid.” No way I’m going to tell Rebecca that it was her face there until she left. Then it hurt too much to look at it every day.

  “You did this?”

  My chest puffs up a little at the awe in her voice. “Yeah.” I hand her a bottle of water. “I do murals all around the city. You know, hospitals and stuff. And my friend’s an interior decorator. If her clients want something a little special, she calls me.” I shrug again. “Drives my parents insane, but it pays the bills, and I love it.”

  “You’re an artist.” The discovery seems to impress her. “This is amazing, Cassidy.” She peers at the mural closely, as though she’s trying to follow each stroke of the brush. “Freehand?”