by Treva Harte
"Oh? Why not?" Cassie looked amused rather than shattered.
"Because I'm not the type of person people love. Because I don't know what to do with love."
"What do you have to do? I love you. You like being around me. We can stay around each other until things don't work. Maybe that will never happen. Maybe that will happen tomorrow. But you can just go on being you."
"But you'll want something more than that someday." Wynn groped for the right thing to say to Cassie.
"What?"
"Well, marriage, I suppose."
She looked at him and shrugged, deliberately saying nothing more.
"Don't do that." Wynn didn't like the feeling of being shut out. He wasn't used to having Cassie do such a thing to him. "What's going on?"
"I don't want to get married. I've never wanted to get married. I didn't want to fall in love either, of course, but at least I've got some more control over the 'til death do us part thing."
"Why don't you want to get married?" Wynn almost added "To me?" and decided that would show too clearly how strangely insulted he felt.
"Wynn, I grew up in a commune, remember? My mom and dad had split up long ago. I hardly ever saw my dad. Then Mom met Tim. Bam! I may not have been crazy about growing up like a '60s flower child when the '60s were over, but I sure didn't like how everything changed once Tim showed up." Wynn watched her scowl, try to smooth out her face and then give up and scowl some more.
"Tim changed things? He doesn't seem like much of a mover and shaker."
"Well, he did. All of a sudden my mom, the original free spirit, was dying to get married. And Tim didn't want to be in the commune. He didn't want me, either."
"And—"
"And I was sent to my dad. To my dad and stepmother and baby brother. Believe me, if I barely knew Dad up until then, I had no idea who Tash or Hank were. Not that I had a chance to really settle in and get to know them."
"You said you went to boarding school." Wynn suddenly remembered. The words hadn't seemed important when she first said them.
"Yeah. The commune didn't prepare me to be upwardly mobile the way Dad and family were. The commune didn't prepare me for anything I hit with my new family. Tash and I lasted about a month together before she announced it was time for me to go to school. Somewhere else."
"I don't really see you in boarding school." Wynn tried to imagine it and came up with a disturbing picture of Cassie trapped at a place rather like the Institute.
"No one really saw me in boarding school except Tash, but Dad always let Tash do whatever Tash wanted about me. To give him credit, I suppose he didn't change all his opinions just for his spouse like Mom did. I don't think Dad ever had any opinions on what his children should do. Dad runs his family like his corporation. He delegates the stuff he doesn't think is important to other people who're willing to do the work." Cassie's scowl was ferocious now.
"And all this made you decide marriage was the wrong thing?" Wynn wished he knew how to make the scowl go away.
"Marriage sucks. Mom turned into someone else just because she married a jerk. My Dad and Tash just reinforce each other's own prejudices. Now even Emily is getting a divorce. I don't want any of that. Marriage makes you into someone else. Marriage makes you do things you wouldn't do otherwise."
"Maybe that wasn't marriage. Maybe that was just your parents."
"What about Emily? If ever anyone could hold a marriage together, it ought to've been her. And then there was David. Everyone but Em thought we were perfect. What a mistake that turned out to be. No. I just haven't seen anything about marriage that's ever made me change my opinion."
Wynn wanted to say she was being childish, that she was holding on to opinions from problems that had happened to her long ago. Then he rethought.
Was he doing that too?
Not knowing what to do with that idea, he concentrated on Cassie instead. Then he backed up a few sentences.
"Wait a minute. Who is David?"
"My ex."
"You were married before?" Wynn dimly remembered Cassie saying something about this long ago when he hadn't thought any of it mattered. Back when this guy didn't have a name and Cassie's feelings on love and marriage weren't vitally important.
Not that they should be important now, he supposed.
"Engaged. I told you this before, didn't I? Back in my lawyer days. We were going to be upwardly mobile together. He was an associate, too."
"He dumped you when you quit the firm?" Wynn felt a sudden urge to hit a guy he didn't know.
"I dumped him, thanks. He was just another problem I didn't want to deal with. After I decided that, Tash was sure I had cracked up. But I knew I was heading back to sanity with that decision. Marriage is all wrong for me. To be honest, love sort of stinks, too. But I'm willing to make an exception in your case."
Cassie waited while Wynn seemed to stand, immobile, for an amazingly long time. She figured he would ask more about David. She'd wondered why he'd let it slide for so long.
Funny. David had been smart and ambitious and seemed like a good match. But he had never meant nearly enough to her. She'd really almost forgotten him until now. Maybe Wynn had figured that out before.
At last Wynn responded, but not the way she expected. He looked at her and held out her hand.
"C'mon, Cassie. We're alone now. Let's go upstairs and go to bed."
She hesitated and he smiled at her.
"It will help, Cass. Trust me."
She trusted Wynn, all right. The problem was that she wasn't sure she was talking to Wynn any more. Or not the Wynn she'd come to know. He'd been there for a few minutes but he was gone again. Then he grasped her hand and tugged it gently. She thought about refusing but she moved forward anyhow.
* * * * *
"Oh. You're here!" Lida ran to him, reaching both hands out. "I didn't expect you but I'm so glad."
She paused as she got closer, looking at him, and her face crumpled.
"You're angry."
"Disappointed, Lida."
"I did what I could. Art wasn't the way he usually is. He acted—he acted the way he would act toward anyone he thought might harm him. He told me what he planned to do and I didn't know how to react."
"Well, Lida, don't be too upset. I think he was warned about you."
She began to cry. He disliked crying in women.
"I'm sorry. So sorry, Emmanuel."
"Yes. Well. I've been thinking of alternatives to our original plan, my dear. I've come up with one. It isn't quite as good as the first, but we need to work with what we have."
She still was crying. Had he thought her remarkably composed for a woman? Apparently she could only manage that when things were going as she planned.
He gave an inward sigh.
"You still trust me, Emmanuel?"
"As much as ever, my dear. Here. Let me show you."
She gasped when he smoothed his hand under her skirt. But he could tell it wasn't a displeased gasp. Such things reassured women. Foolish creatures. Doing this meant nothing to him.
But she was one of his chosen few, the one he had picked to help him command. Even more importantly, Lida was his tool. His very useful tool to getting him that much closer to ruling the masses who needed to serve him. He needed her to stay obedient.
"Bend over the desk, my dear," he whispered to her.
"Ohhh." Her mouth quivered. "Are you—? You know that I've never let any other man do this but you."
"Of course not." Emmanuel almost laughed. How could she?
She bent over, obediently, almost quivering with lust and anticipation and fear. The fear was what added enough spice to the game to make his penis stiffen.
"Lift your skirt. Slowly."
The trembling in her hands as she did it combined with the sight of her ass bent submissively over was enough. Emmanuel stepped forward and prepared himself. Then he began to press carefully, gently, into that tiny hole between her round cheeks.
"
Ohhh." Her voice was almost a wail.
"Hush. Remember people could hear us," Emmanuel kept his own voice low.
He put his hands over her mouth.
She was tight. Not as tight as some but tight enough through the initial resistance. Her legs began to tremble, too, as he pressed home. He could feel her hand begin to diddle herself, slowly. He slid out, just as slowly, and waited a moment before thrusting forward again.
"Faster. Go faster," he ordered.
He let the hand off her mouth. She knew what was expected of her now. No outcry. Instead he put both hands on her shoulders, pinning her down so she would find it hard to move.
"Yes, Emmanuel." Lida sighed out the words softly. They both knew what happened next.
He pushed in more forcefully. "Now come."
She gave out what sounded like a muted but pained cry as she obeyed him.
* * * * *
Wynn was tender. He was attentive. He took her clothes off slowly, bestowing kisses on her skin as he did so. Cassie began to enjoy herself. She couldn't help it.
"Cassie, you're so beautiful."
"You've never said that before."
"I've thought it before."
*Not in front of me. You thought I was flaky, sexy, attractive, annoying—Wynn?*
But Wynn didn't answer. He was kissing her breasts instead. If he was too busy doing that to mind talk with her, how could she complain?
He was concentrating on her, after all, and he was doing a very nice job of it. He was so gentle. So attentive. Every part of her body was being tasted and enjoyed and cared for. She sighed as his mouth turned to her needy wet pussy.
But with his silence, her doubts were coming back.
* * * * *
She was crying again. This time he knew it was from satisfaction, not unhappiness. He lifted his head and gave her a smile. She smiled back, with tears still in her eyes.
"That was amazing."
The praise was flattering, but women had told him that before. He didn't understand why they enjoyed what cost so little to him, but he didn't need to.
"Now you see how much I trust and need you, my dear?" He kept his tone soothing. "As long as you keep doing what I want, we'll be fine."
"Yes. Thank you." She kissed his hand.
"No need for thanks at all. And you understand my plan?"
"Oh, yes. I'm sure I can follow what you want me to do."
"I'm sure that you can, too, my dear. You've managed quite well so far. I need to leave now. We don't want people to see us together."
"Yes."
"And Lida?"
"What?"
"Pull your skirt down, my dear." He remembered to smile charmingly.
He had been careful to cause a minimum of rumpling to her clothing since they were in her office. But she really needed to smooth the skirt down.
As he moved toward the door he felt a quick flicker of desire. He rarely indulged in sexual gratification. He rarely had a need. But that silly encounter with that woman had actually brought some physical urges on him.
He wondered what he might be able to get. Young boys were sometimes a problem to get discreetly. Especially when you wanted them to be restrained. That particular desire had come from his days at the Institute. Heaven knew he had been restrained often enough there as a boy. Usually that was for the testing but once or twice he had known there was a sexual component there with his testers—Emmanuel frowned. He didn't like to think of a time when he was alone, vulnerable and helpless.
But finding a young boy in that condition now might be pleasurable.
* * * * *
Cassie could feel herself coming. She didn't even want to, exactly, but Wynn knew what he was doing. She couldn't help herself. He knew where to touch, where to nibble, where to suck—
*Stupid bitch. They always think it means something.*
Cassie heard that thought loud and clear. She stared up at Wynn in amazement. That wasn't Wynn's voice. That couldn't be Wynn's voice.
And then she realized something else. Wynn was pulling back from her. He still had his pants on, for God's sake! Wasn't he interested in—in his own pleasure?
No. Apparently not. What was going on?
Emmanuel.
She felt like an idiot. Obviously something was wrong. She should have realized what that something was before this. Wynn had warned her. Back when he was himself.
Emmanuel didn't know she could read thoughts. That was why she wasn't getting many from Wynn. She was receiving ones from what had to be Emmanuel. And now she knew she could read all kinds of thoughts in Wynn's head—apparently whether Wynn thought them himself or whether they were transmitted to Wynn.
"Darling?" Wynn murmured the endearment to her.
He never called her that.
*Keep her quiet and satisfied and she'll be no trouble. She's caused enough already.*
"Just a minute, sweetie. Just lie here and I'll be back for round two," she said.
*Oh God. She wants more?*
Wynn stretched out on her bed obediently. She looked at him as he lay there, docile and complacent, and knew what she had to do. Docile and complacent wasn't Wynn. She wanted Wynn back.
Rapidly she went to the closet and moved quickly. Wynn stared up at her in shock, complacency gone, when she tied him to the bed posts with her scarves. She wished they'd brought along the handcuffs.
"What? What?"
"We're doing things my way." Cassie finished knotting the last one. "This is for your own good."
*Don't tie me up! They did that to me before!*
And Cassie wasn't sure if that was Emmanuel or Wynn talking to her. Wynn looked terrified, but she definitely had his attention. He was focused entirely on her, not his thought transmittals. But she could feel the fear.
Now she wasn't sure she could do this. Not even for his own good.
But there was another way. Maybe. A better way? Maybe.
Cassie untied him. He swallowed, his hands still braced against the bedposts.
*Don't move, Wynn*.
"Cassie—" He swallowed again. But he didn't move. Cassie wasn't sure he could. Maybe she really could use her mind to control him this way.
"Trust me, Wynn. This will help you. Wynn, do you trust me?"
He said nothing for a long time. Cassie kept near him, kept stroking his face.
"Yes." The answer wasn't much more than a gasp, but she heard the response.
That was Wynn.
"Good. Now I can work with you." Cassie leaned over and kissed him, long and tenderly. "Keep trusting me. I won't hurt you."
* * * * *
Security had been tightened as the campaigning started to move from winning the nomination to winning the presidency. Art was used to security, but not this much. Sometimes he felt like he couldn't breathe, he was so crowded by people protecting him.
Art glanced at the photograph on his desk. His wife was smiling. They'd never had children. Never been able to. He wondered if he would have felt quite so alone if he'd been able to have a son or daughter.
Hell, probably nothing would make a difference. He was simply becoming more and more aware of how isolated he was. If he won the election things would only get worse.
He glanced over at the multitude of photographs on his wall. One of them showed Lida at a political fund-raiser with him. He had many photographs of him with various political figures. That had been his secret favorite.
He'd always been isolated. He had thought Lida was with him. That had been a lie. But now he knew he was alone. Crowded by people but absolutely alone. His awareness was the only difference.
Where the hell was Wynn? Wynn had started this whole thing and then ducked out of the aftermath. He'd been gone for weeks now, critical weeks for the campaign.
Perhaps Art had grown to depend on Harmon's information too much. There was no reason to trust the man really, but Art had relied on the other man's insights because he'd known Wynn was another loner who distrusted others. He'd
known Wynn was one of the few people left in the world who could give him new insights on being wary of others. And if Wynn said someone checked out, Art knew he was safe.
Art went back to pondering what he had tried not to think about ever since the Secret Service had told him the news. Security had seen Emmanuel Rauss entering Lida's office and leaving again shortly afterward. Damn. Wynn had been dead-on right.
He was going to have to find Wynn. If he could trust anyone, he could trust Wynn.
* * * * *
Wynn felt confused, turned on, turned off, terrified and ecstatic. Damn Cassie. Damn his body. Damn his mind. He'd never felt so hard in his life as with Cassie moving against him, sinuously, slowly, not letting up. Some secret part of him welcomed the restraints back again. He strained against the non-existent bindings. He also hadn't felt this kind of fear in years. Not since the Institute.
And his thoughts—they kept veering all over the place. He could hear Cassie pouring in tender words, sexy words, comforting words. And he could hear an unfamiliar voice—he didn't know what it was—telling him that she was just a woman and all women were fools...And he knew there was something in him telling him to get away, not to let himself be trapped. He knew that thought wasn't a new one. He'd thought that plenty of times before.
And he heard something else, deeper in him, reminding him he could trust this woman because this was Cassie. God, he wanted to trust that idea, but there were so many other things telling him not to.
Then Cassie stopped moving. He steadied himself, wondering what she had planned.
*I can't do this to you, Wynn. It's too much. I can feel that. I'll let you go.*
"Yes." He paused, trying to sound reasonable. "No. Don't. Too out of control. Might hurt myself. You."
For a moment he felt rational. He felt in control of his brain. He'd promised to think of Cassie first. Protect her. This was the right thing.
"Go ahead." He forced the words out.
Cassie had a plan. He needed to go along with it.
She hesitated, then began to move again.