by Diane Leyne
* * * *
He’d used air quotes to highlight the word normal, and his tone was slightly bitter. Aly found herself staring at him with shock. They’d never discussed that part of his life since they’d gone back to being “friends.” It was her turn for air quotes, at least in her head. No matter how much she kept telling herself that what she felt for Max was nothing but friendship, it was a big fat lie. Just sitting with him at a restaurant and hearing his laugh and watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled had her stomach and, yes, her pussy clenching.
He was one of the hottest men she’d ever met. Oh, there might be handsomer men, but none had his combination of rugged good looks and humor. And Max was a seriously nice man, a quality that seemed to be lacking nowadays. He helped little old ladies across the street, rescued kittens from a tree at least twice that she knew of, and had always had time for his younger sister and her bratty friends, even when they were ten and he was fifteen and got harassed by his own friends for letting his baby sister, who hero-worshipped him, hang around.
And she’d rejected him outright, refusing to even have an adult discussion. She’d panicked and shut down emotionally. And she knew she’d hurt him. She’d seen it in his face before he’d shut down and simply grabbed the bags they’d never gotten around to unpacking and carried them back to the car.
He’d driven all the way back to Chicago without a word. And she knew she’d really hurt him when he did something so out of character that she’d gasped aloud with surprise. He got out of the car and removed her bags from the trunk and placed them beside her. Then he got in the car and drove away without a word. It was only then that she realized just how badly she’d hurt him. Max Barton was a gentleman to his toes. He’d never drive away and leave a woman, or even a man, standing on the curbside. He’d at least walk them to their door and see them safely inside. He’d probably insist on carrying their bags, too.
But he’d driven away, leaving her on the curb. As she gathered her bags, she felt the tears begin to fall. They continued to fall for the rest of the weekend as she mourned what might have been. Then she banned them, determined to move on and forget Max.
And here he was now, sitting across the table from her, looking none too happy at being there. Clearly Maggie hadn’t told him that she’d be there. Aly wished she could run away. She understood why he didn’t want to see her, but Rebecca needed them both, and they’d have to put aside their differences to make sure she was okay.
She just had to get him to stop laughing and take the situation seriously.
Chapter Three
Aly saw that everyone was waiting for her to speak. She looked at Max.
“Sorry. I guess you are not the only one zoning out. So, tell me what you know about this island and the brothers Reynolds.”
Max looked at her before responding. She could see that he was hesitant, and she wondered why.
“Why do you care if Rebecca’s got herself some Doms? Some people enjoy the lifestyle.” His tone was mild, but his eyes bore through her. She knew he was also remembering.
“These letters…they make it sound like it isn’t her idea, that she’s being unduly influenced by these men.”
“Now we don’t know that.” Trust it to Jen to see things objectively.
“Have you ever known Rebecca to express the slightest interest in that kind of lifestyle? Not even growing up around the big, bad Dom here?”
“Firstly, big I may be, but I don’t think I’m bad. And I don’t know if Rebecca even knows I am a Dom unless you told her. Jen, how long have you known I was a Dom?”
“Not since you, well, since you and Aly broke up. She kind of told us everything. We’re best friends, and that’s what girlfriends do.” Jen looked at Max as if to gauge his reaction.”
“Hell, I didn’t even know.” Maggie laughed. “I wish I’d known sooner. I would love to do a photo essay on the lifestyle. I promise I’d be respectful.” Her tone was wistful, and she clearly didn’t expect a positive answer. “I’ve asked him every few months since Aly told us, and he always says no. But I think I’m wearing him down. I may be his sister, but even I can see that he’d make for yummy photos wearing just his leathers with a whip in his hand and a sexy sub tied up to one of those thingies. Aly, maybe you…?” She laughed as Aly frantically shook her head, hoping no one noticed her blushing at the thought of Max tying her up.
* * * *
Max rolled his eyes. Sisters. Gotta love ’em. But he still wasn’t going to let her near him with her camera when he was doing a scene…and yet…there really hadn’t been a good book showing the beauty of BDSM and avoiding the salaciousness or making porn and pretending it was the same thing.
After Josh McClain’s book hit it big, his wife and slave Jillian had been asked to do her own book from the sub’s perspective and she’d been interested, but she’d put it off, wanting to get the right angle to produce a book that wasn’t just capitalizing on her husband’s success. She really wanted to do the subject justice. Maybe the right photographer could make a difference. He made a mental note to introduce them.
“Now, little sister, if you have that out of your system, maybe we can get back to the subject at hand, which was, I believe, Rebecca. If I recall correctly, Rebecca was at school in San Francisco. Did one of you call her and tell her about our little fling and that you dumped me when you found out about my interests?”
Max looked around the table. The three women were looking at him with varying degrees of annoyance and outright loathing. Luckily it was his sister who had the look of loathing and not Aly. She just looked annoyed, or so he thought until he looked closer and he could see the hurt in her eyes that she was trying to hide. Damn, he’d call back those words if he could. It wasn’t a fling for him. He’d loved her. Hell, he still loved her. He’d tried to move on, but none of the women he’d dated has held a candle to Aly. He hoped it wasn’t too late to repair the damage.
“I mean, it’s not likely that Rebecca knew about my lifestyle, right. I had no reason to discuss it with her and like I said, I’m guessing none of you did. And, for the record, I’m damned uncomfortable discussing it in front of all of you.” He turned to glare at Maggie. “Especially you, sis. There are just some things that should be private from siblings.”
* * * *
Aly felt her stomach drop at the most important, intense relationship of her life being called a fling. She found she couldn’t even take in the words he was saying after he said the word fling. She could see his lips moving, but her hearing seemed to have cut out. She was shocked to realize that she was angry, blazingly angry that he had denigrated the greatest love affair she’d ever had. It hadn’t meant that much to him, obviously. The fact that she’d dumped him was irrelevant.
Besides, he was probably up to his armpits in subs that begged him to spank them and lick their pussies and generally fuck their brains out better than any man before or since.
Damn, Aly thought. Where did that come from? She looked up and realized that everyone at the table was looking at her. She must have zoned out again. Double damn, why was this happening? She was worried about Rebecca, and she facing the prospect of spending significant time with Max for the first time in a year and a half.
She forced herself to speak calmly and hoped she hadn’t missed anything important.
“You’re right, of course. I didn’t tell Rebecca. She’s probably the most vanilla of us all, and I figured she’d be shocked and want to fly back here and kick your ass for spanking mine, so I didn’t tell her any details. I told her we were dating and then that we’d broken up, but not why. Did either of you say anything about the reason?”
Both Maggie and Jen shook their heads, but their looks were quizzical. She would have to talk to them after Max left and find out what she’d missed. Obviously, it was something they considered important. Damn Max. After all this time, he could still stir her emotions like no one else could.
She’d told hers
elf she had moved past their relationship and they were just friends now or maybe just acquaintances because it wasn’t like they hung out together or anything. Of course, she had left the country for a year so they didn’t have much opportunity to see each other while she was away.
And now she only saw him when he was with his sister. She thought about it. Really, their paths rarely crossed any more. Was he avoiding her? Was it because he couldn’t stand the sight of her or he didn’t want to see her after she broke up with him or…was she over thinking things and their paths just didn’t happen to cross recently.
She was an idiot. She was overthinking everything. She should just tell him she wanted to try again. What’s the worst that could happen? He could say no. He could laugh. No. This plan was better. And she really was worried about Rebecca. And if she could spend some alone time with Max and see if there was any chance of getting together again, she’d jump at it. She just couldn’t be too obvious about it.
“So what exactly do you want from me?”
“There seem to be two problems to me,” interjected Jen with her calm, unruffled manner. “First of all, there’s the possibility that Rebecca’s gotten herself into an unhealthy relationship, but there’s no way of knowing this without getting close to them and observing them together.
“Which leads to the second problem of who should go, would they need to pose as a Dom or a sub, and how do they spy on Rebecca without her getting suspicious. Have I summed that up correctly?”
“You missed out another key problem.” Max said, his tone amused.
“And what is that?” Jen didn’t sound upset.
“Once you all figure out who’s going to do the spying, you have to get them onto Libertine Island, preferably as a guest.”
“Why a guest?” challenged Aly. “I could go in as wait-staff, office help, or even housekeeping. Hotels always need service staff.”
“Yes, but sooner or later Rebecca would spot you, and how would you explain giving up your career in journalism to join the service industry?”
“I’ll tell her I’m undercover researching a story.”
“That’s got some possibilities, but there are still problems.”
He paused and looked at Aly. She just stared back at him.
“She and the brothers Reynolds, as you call them, work at Club Libertine. Presumably they might not be happy if you were doing an exposé, particularly since there are lots of BDSM clubs and you choose to write about the one where your friend works. Or she might focus on the fact that you are spying on her. I am pretty sure that wouldn’t sit well.”
“Okay, I can see how that might piss off Rebecca, but only if I was wrong. She’d be happy to see me if I was right.”
“Yes, but what if you are wrong? She might not want to talk to you again. Are you willing to risk her anger when there are other options?”
“No, I’d prefer not to piss her off if I don’t have to. My only other option is to go as a guest unless there’s something I’ve missed.”
Max again looked Aly and then he smiled.
“Clearly neither I nor Jen is telling you something you don’t already know. Our esteemed journalist would have already considered these options, and I’m sure that you came to the conclusion all on your own that the best way to get onto the island had no luck.”
“Damn it, Max. Are you a mind reader?”
“No, if you’d have managed either option, you wouldn’t have invited me to this little get-together. Also, I know the BDSM community in general and the folks that own Libertine Island in particular. No way are they hiring someone who sends in a résumé out of the blue without a deep background check, and no way is someone with a journalism background getting within a mile of the place.”
“I didn’t apply as myself, of course, but all I got back was a notification that hiring for this year was closed and to please reapply next April.”
“And you tried to go as a guest?”
“I did, and damn you, you know that didn’t work out either. What the hell are they hiding? They either wanted a referral from my local BDSM club or I had to go through a psychological evaluation.”
“Seriously?” Jen sounded amused. “I’d say that considering the type of resort they are promoting, this is a pretty responsible approach to accepting guests, although I’d say that severely limited their pool of potential customers.”
“There’s a lot more people involved in the lifestyle than you can possibly imagine.” He grinned without mirth at the women, taking particular satisfaction in staring down Aly, who dropped her eyes from his gaze. “They have more potential visitors than they have rooms. They deliberately only built the resort the minimum number of rooms, but designed it with the possibility for future expansion in mind, and it looks like they’ll be adding rooms sooner rather than later.”
“They’ve got the cash to do that? It must have cost a lot to build in the first place.”
“They have good private financing in place. There are a lot of investors, including the team behind the original Club Libertine in Seattle.”
“Who else?”
“Not going to say. I’m okay mentioning the Seattle connection since it is pretty obvious. However, I’m not going to violate the privacy of the other owners. It’s a privately held company, and they have a right not to disclose.”
“Fine, fine. But since you have connections, can you get me a reservation?”
“Probably, but I’m not going to.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think the intrepid journalist has thought this through. You are reacting with your heart and not our mind. First of all, how do you explain your presence to Rebecca?” He raised his voice in an obvious imitation of her. “Oh, Becs, I had an urge for some sun and just happened to choose a wickedly expensive BDSM club to visit alone so I could soak up the rays and watch Doms whipping their subs and then having sex with them.”
Aly colored.
“No, that won’t fly. And you wouldn’t be accepted as a customer. No tourists. Tourist in the BDSM sense, that is. No one is allowed to just come and stare. Many people in the lifestyle are exhibitionists and/or voyeurs, but they aren’t going to perform for the salacious pleasure of gawkers
“All visitors have to participate. Which gives you two options. One, you can go during one of the training weeks. You’ll have to go through a series of counseling sessions with a shrink so that they can make sure you understand what you are getting yourself into and are coming for the right reasons. This would include them doing a complete profile of what you are looking for so they can match you up with the right Dom or Doms. Are you a beginner needing extensive training to figure out if you really want to get into the lifestyle? Are you an experienced practitioner who happens not to have a Dom right now who wants to spend a week with someone who can meet your needs without judgment? Or maybe you are looking to explore your soft and hard limits and need someone you can trust to push you in a safe situation with no emotional ties?”
Aly looked at Max and then at Jen and Maggie. Both of the women looked fascinated.
“Would she have to have sex with these temporary Doms?” Maggie sounded intrigued.
“That would depend on the sub in question. All of her limits would be on the questionnaire and then discussed with the company psychologist. Some subs are into service. They just want a Dom to please. Others are pain sluts. And no, I’m not making a judgment. That’s what they call themselves. They want to find someone who can safely beat them within the hard limits they’ve established and who will respect their safe words. The clubs provide a safe environment to play in. The Dungeon monitors watch all scenes carefully, even those in private areas, to make sure that no Dom has gotten carried away in the moment.
“However, most Doms do want sex in the mix. If sex were off the table, then it would probably be hard to match her up with a Dom. Remember, these men would also be on vacation and looking for a week of no-strings play. As Doms, they are programme
d to want to meet their subs needs, but they have needs, too. If Aly took sex off the table, then there wouldn’t be much chance to be matched with anyone.”
“What’s the other option?” Aly wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “I am pretty sure I don’t want to sign up for a training week.”
“You go to the island with someone. You bring your own Dom.”
“Couldn’t I be the Domme and I bring a sub?”
“Sure, but you aren’t a Domme, not even close. You’d have to play a role.”
“I can do that.”
“Really? You can be a Domme for a week, every time you are in public? Remember, this is a lifestyle destination. Every visitor is in the lifestyle, as are most of the staff. If your behavior didn’t ring true, someone would report you. At minimum, it would get back to Rebecca. Besides, how would you explain to her that you were a Domme? Especially if you stopped being a Domme when you got back to the States. And who would you bring as your sub?”
“You?” She looked around as her friends laughed uncontrollably at the thought of Max as a submissive. “Seriously, Max. You know about the lifestyle. You could guide me so I didn’t make any serious blunders.”
“I don’t think so. Even if I could fake being a sub, I know people. I have never been down there, but I’m sure I’d know a number of the staff, if not the visitors and they’d know me. I’d be recognized, and no one would believe I’d switched from Dom to sub.”
“Yeah, Aly. I have to say, I’d never believe Max as a sub. But there is another option.” Aly looked at Jen, and something told her she wouldn’t like Jen’s suggestion. “You could go as Max’s sub.”
Aly burst out laughing. It was mostly nervous laughter. She didn’t find the suggestion funny at all. She glanced over at Max, and he didn’t seem any happier about it than she did.
“No!” They both practically shouted the same word at Jen.