With limited space backstage, Maxine felt as if they’d be drawing attention to their clandestine little problem, but there was simply no way that Drew would allow him to leave her there alone.
“You’ll wait in the car?” Maxine batted her lashes.
“I’m not leaving,” the guard told her as she traipsed along toward the stage door. “Lou warned me that you’d put up a fuss…”
“Oh, that Lou!” she waved her hand dismissively in the air. “He and I go way back.”
“To September when you met Mr. McKenzie?”
Maxine couldn’t tell if this behemoth was teasing her or not. “Why, how do you know when—”
“It’s my job to know everything about you two.”
Choosing to ignore rather than engage, Maxine swung open that familiar entrance and fell right into another pair of thick, open arms. “Trevor!”
Out of everyone who worked behind the scenes at the show, Maxine adored Trevor the doorman most. He was always so cautious and respectful to both of them—always on the lookout to make sure that Maxine and Drew were safe and comfortable at the theater. In fact, she’d even asked Drew if they might be able to hire him away for their own personal security.
“Hey, how are ya, little lady?” he said with a smile. “You must be thrilled for Mack.”
“We’ve been on Cloud Nine since Sunday,” she said. “And I think it will be a while before we come down.”
“As you should be. You just got married. Drew won the Tony. You’ve got the world right in the palm of your hand.”
Trevor’s optimism always impressed Maxine. “Thank you, Trevor. And thank you for always being so kind to us.”
“You’re good people, Mrs. Mack,” he said. “You’ve been good to me, too.”
Maxine went on to explain that her bodyguard needed to find some place to hang out for the time being. Trevor readily offered up a spare chair to him next to his own to avoid congestion in the hallways after the show.
Before she headed up the stairs, Trevor called out to her and tossed her the set of master keys to the theater, which she’d returned after she opened the door. Now with a renewed energy burning through her blood, she took every other step, anxiously awaiting her instructions.
True to his word, Drew had left the toy drawer open, and she found one of his monogrammed note cards inside.
Lock the door.
Strip.
And get into position.
See you shortly.
Kisses…
KS
Quickly, she thought back upon her day, wondering if she’d managed to rack up any misdemeanors. For once, Maxine thought, her record was clean.
She took the time to study his quick missive, just in case he’d slipped in some hidden command, but Maxine decided to take Drew’s words at face value that night. With a flick of her fingers, she’d locked the door. Turning around toward the window, she’d noted that he’d already closed the shade. Now all that was left for her to do was to remove her clothes.
Drew so loved playing with her in this tiny space, if for just the huge mirror alone. He would watch her as she gazed at her own self with a sense of wonderment, so appreciative of her body’s innate reactions to his attentions. Often, he suited her up with clamps, a gag, a harness—whatever struck his fancy at the moment—and ordered to her to stand before the mirror.
What turned her on most was seeing this alternate version of herself. She would watch the rise and swell of her breasts as they engorged from his sweet torture as she struggled to be free. Initially, Maxine had trouble recognizing that girl in the mirror, but as she blossomed in her submission, she came to know that young woman better than she ever imagined she would.
Just as she moved to drop to her knees, a knock at the door startled her. Time had passed quicker than she thought. She waited for a moment, thinking that Drew had his own key but stood up when the second knock came.
Slipping his heavy terrycloth robe around herself, she stepped to the side. “I must have lost track of time—didn’t expect you to finish so soon!”
“Oh, Drew’s not finished yet, but what an unexpected delight to find you here—little one…”
Her constricting throat strangled her ability to speak, as what she thought to be her very last breath left her body. Inside, she could feel her stomach curdle and her nerve endings fray, but as she continued to clutch the doorknob for dear life, she just couldn’t move.
Fear and quandaries flooded her mind as she stared into those steely eyes that looked upon her with lascivious intent. She’d never felt so chilly—or so bare—in her life. What left her frigid to the bone, however, was his utterance of nickname: little one.
Suddenly, her thoughts wandered to how the hell he even got in there between Trevor and her own personal bodyguard. Oh, she hoped they were alright. She didn’t want to even think that someone else might be hurt in their efforts to keep her safe.
Running his fingers through his slick black hair, he laughed maniacally, lunging closer to leer. Even though she held that robe so tightly around herself, he could still see that she wore nothing beneath the crisp white folds. White was a fantastic color for her to be wearing that evening—it would only make the mess uglier to clean up after he left.
Methodically, his hand covered hers over the doorknob and squeezed so hard that she cried out in pain as he shoved her aside. Dammit, the room was soundproofed and no one would hear her. And just as quickly he locked the door before filling his fist with her long auburn hair and giving a rough pull.
“Please…” she whispered at last. “You’re hurting me…”
“Ha! That’s hilarious, Maxine—coming from a submissive little tramp like you.”
Wincing as he slammed her head against the wall, Maxine fought to control her tears. “Why…why are you here, Randy?” she asked. “What do you want?”
With one sleek pull, he released the belt of the robe from its loops. “What do I want?” Tossing his head back, he chuckled again. “I think I want you. But not until your husband arrives. I want him to watch me fuck you.”
All energy suddenly left her body, and she thought she just might pass out. The thought of his threat just sickened her. Bile began to rise in her throat, and she hoped she wouldn’t throw up. When he took a step back and grabbed her wrists, she glanced at the clock on Drew’s dressing table. There were still twenty minutes left to the show, and she couldn’t begin to imagine what Randy might try in those fleeting moments.
However, she put up a good struggle as he maneuvered her arms behind her back to secure them with the belt, and when he finished, he slapped her across the face.
“You like it when a man ties you up and beats you,” Randy taunted. “Why so hostile with me?”
With a shove, he pushed her backward into the makeup chair and turned his back on her for just a moment to survey the room. Dammit. She’d left her toy drawer open…
“Aw, what do we have here?” Randy bent down and pulled out a flogger, a pair of steel handcuffs and a wad of hemp rope. “Does your Kind Sir beat you right in here? While he’s working?”
“Randy, he’ll be here at any minute…”
“Fucking show has time left yet,” he turned around and spat. “I can still have some fun with you before he gets here…”
Slowly, he closed the distance between them, dangling the rope in front of her face. Maxine gulped, cringing away from his every move.
“Pretty red rope here,” Randy said. “Bet it would look sweeter than your collar around your neck…”
Now she closed her eyes. Maxine simply didn’t want to see whatever he planned to do to her. Around her neck, she could feel the ring of the rope, like a lasso to wrangle her close. Randy seemed to be an expert at tying a noose.
“Just tell me why, Randy?” she pleaded. “What have we ever done to you? And how can we make it better?”
She hated the notion of rationalizing with a mad man, but she had no choice. She had to stall him s
omehow until Drew took his final bow.
“You didn’t do anything, Maxine—you’re just guilty by association with your asshole husband,” Randy explained quite calmly, taking a step back to look her. “But Drew…he’s always had to take away what I wanted—what I deserved in my life.”
Again, she swallowed but refused to open her eyes. “What, Randy?” she whispered, evoking pseudo sympathy. “What has he done to you?”
“Didn’t he tell you?” Randy demanded, his voice now booming between them. “We were at Julliard together!”
Maxine couldn’t’ think of a single time that Drew mentioned that they’d studied together. Jeffrey never said a word either. In fact, it was quite likely that Drew didn’t even remember Randy.
“He’s never spoken of you,” she insisted. “Perhaps he doesn’t realize that he’d hurt you in some way…”
“That fucker knows!” Randy said and gave a little tug to the rope around her neck. “He knows…”
Now she struggled again as the circle tightened, but Randy wasn’t nearly finished. With one fierce pull, he ripped open the front of her robe.
“Tiny tits!” Randy changed gears. “Drew used to like them busty. What the fuck is he doing with you?”
Embarrassment was sure to kill her that evening if Randy didn’t try first. She felt raped by his eyes alone. Now she believed that he truly did have every intention of assaulting her, but when Drew caught hold of him and finished him off, there would be nothing left of Randy Mansfield to even sweep the floor with.
The clock continued to tick, but not quickly enough.
“Your husband…what a son of a bitch he was back at Julliard. Thought he was everything. Got all the parts—all the girls. And he had to take what was mine, too.”
“What did he take from you, Randy?” Keep him talking, she coached herself. Sympathize if you must. “What did he do that’s left you so angry with him?”
“There was a girl…a beautiful girl. Her name was Susan,” Randy began, almost as if he were lost in some fantastical trance. “She was new to New York. Here on a scholarship. We met at Freshman Orientation, and I fell in love.”
“Love at first sight?” Make him tell you every last detail…
“I thought so. We had all our classes together. We ran scenes with each other late at night. Sometimes we’d have breakfast in the morning, and we’d just talk…” His voice trailed off as he thought back. “And she was beautiful—so much prettier than you…”
He could insult her however he wished, as long as she made it out of that damn dressing room alive. “You were dating?” she pressed.
“No words were spoken, but we spent so much time together,” Randy reasoned. “And we fucked a lot. She was so amazing in bed. Best blowjobs I’ve ever had. Bet you couldn’t give one half as good. And I bet Drew thinks back to her when he’s fucking you now…”
Maxine had no choice but to simply agree with his brand of crazy. “I’m sure he does, Randy.”
“Well, she started doing this play with him,” Randy continued. “And suddenly, I never saw her anymore. So I spent a couple of nights following her from rehearsals. Know where she went, Maxine?”
“To Drew’s place?” This must have been the girl who tipped Drew’s curiosity for BDSM. Maxine already knew the truth, but she had to sit through Randy’s convoluted version of the story.
“He started fucking her, Maxine. He fucked a ton of women before you. I don’t’ think he cared about a single one of them—including you, for that matter.”
“You’re probably right.” She could literally hear the beat of her own heart as it pounded against her chest. “So Drew stole your girlfriend, Randy?”
“He stole her, but then…then I found out that she started working some sleazy sex club.” Smacking himself in the head, he began to pace the narrow room like a caged animal, his footsteps clapping on the hardwood floor. “The love of my fucking life—working in some shithole fuck joint. And I’m sure he got her into that. Rumors were out about him. He liked to play it kinky. But do you think he cared about her? Fuck no! No sane man would allow his girlfriend to go get her ass spanked every night by strangers!”
Now, he was just rambling, and Maxine could only hope that this would continue.
“So that’s why you hate Drew?” she asked. “Because he took her away from you?”
“He took her…he took my roles in every fucking show. I got so depressed that I flunked outta Julliard…and none of them ever paid attention to what was happening to me. None of those motherfuckers cared about stupid Randall Mansfield. They were all off living their own stupid little lives,” he continued to shout. “And then…then I had to leave…”
“Maybe they didn’t realize how depressed you were, Randy,” she suggested.
“That’s an excuse, Maxine.” Turning away from her for a quick second, he looked at himself in the mirror, but Maxine almost felt as if he saw just a blank slate in front of him. His eyes now bore no emotion. He wanted to make her suffer, and he planned to do so without a scrap of regret. “I was so sick, Maxine…I damn nearly killed myself.”
Empathize with him, keep it moving along. Drew will be here soon! “I—I’m sorry, Randy.”
“You’re not sorry!” he accused. “You have no idea how crushed I was. But my stupid fucking parents didn’t understand either. They forced me to go back to school—get a degree in anything. Do you think I fucking wanted to be a journalist? That’s all I knew how to do, aside from acting. I could write.”
“And…you’re an amazing writer, Randy,” she added, even though she’d only read one article of length that he’d penned. Most of his stories were short blurbs for the blogs. “You have real talent there…”
“Oh, fuck you, Maxine,” he spit in her face, showering her lips and cheeks. “Even you and Jillian have turned against me—keeping me away from your precious clients.”
“You talked to Lexie,” she reminded him. “And she had such a wonderful meeting with you.”
“Wouldn’t let me get anywhere near Drew…” he muttered, shaking his head. “Protecting his pristine image from the public. Well, wait til this shit gets out. Neither one of you will ever work in this town again. I wrote an article, you know. And I filed it right before I walked over here…”
“You…you…filed a story?” Maxine stammered.
“All about Drew’s past,” he grinned. “And I tied it all into his present-day lifestyle.”
“A-and…it’s set to…go live?”
“Usually around midnight,” Randy assured her. “You two are going to be the talk of the town tomorrow—if I let you survive.”
Now, she felt as if she were about to pee herself. If Randy’s editor allowed that piece of trash to pass, their lives could come crashing down around them within the next hour. She couldn’t imagine what their parents would think, and she didn’t want to entertain what would happen to their collective careers in the theater.
Certainly, though, the biggest newspaper in the country wouldn’t just publish some outlandish ramblings based on nothing but the reporter’s own warped sense of events. Perhaps they still had some time to stop the presses…if only she could make it out of that room alive.
“It’s a personal essay—backed up with photos.”
Silence lingered for a few seconds while she continued to ponder her own plan of attack, but Maxine had to keep their dialog moving. “So what did you think of our dungeon, Randy?” Maxine asked suddenly. “And how did you make it inside the building?”
“Your dumbfuck of a lobby attendant switched off the cameras on the back stairwell,” Randy explained. “We’d been planning it for months. He was watching you two all along—and reporting back to me…”
“You…you certainly made a grand effort there…” she stammered.
“I make a grand effort at everything I do, Maxine…”
Grabbing her breasts, he squeezed until he’d left his handprints upon her skin. Squirming against him, she w
anted to cry out against this violation of her body, but she remained silent for her own sake.
“You loved that, didn’t you, Maxine?” he asked. “Who does it better? Drew…or me?”
Lips trembling, she squinted her eyes tighter as queasiness overwhelmed her and whispered, “You, Randy…you…”
“You mean it, don’t you?”
“Uh…of course, I do…”
“Maybe you’ll like a little erotic asphyxiation…”
No…no…no…!
Again, his fingers pulled at the noose, tightening just a bit more. Of course, though, he didn’t want to spoil his fun by making her come just yet. He wanted to wait for Drew’s arrival so that he could personally show him how to pleasure his wife. For the moment, though, it was fun to watch the horror spread across Maxine’s face.
“So Randy…” she said, as she tried to gain her composure. “You went to journalism school. So did I…”
Common ground would be their bond, and dammit, she’d make sure of it.
“Now, did you, Maxine?” he asked. “Seems we’re better suited for each other than I ever thought. What’s your husband going to say?”
“He’ll…he’ll be…upset with me...”
Again, her thoughts strayed to just how the hell he managed to get inside the theater. There were many entrances but none that could allow an unnoticed entry.
It was then that she sunk into a reverie of her husband just to keep herself calm. She imagined Drew’s gentle hands soothing over her, making her feel warm and close to him. She could hear the sweetness in his voice, and see the empathy in his eyes. Drew would be there for her in no time, and he’d wipe her mind clear of these awful ugly memories.
However, Randy thwarted Maxine’s attempt to divert her own attention as he shoved her legs apart, then took her face in his hands, his fingers bruising her porcelain skin.
“Let’s start it now so that Drew can see what a whore he married,” Randy said as he reached between her legs and gave her a squeeze. “Yeah, you love this, don’t you? You want me to finger fuck you, don’t you, little one?”
KNOTTED: The Manhattan Bound Series, Book Three Page 50