Chance sighed inwardly as she forced a smile. She’d heard the story a hundred times, easy. “Yes, well. There was nothing earth-shattering like you had. Mutual friends, and we hit it off. Sorry if I’m not romantic enough for you.”
Landry, though, looked at her with a grin. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I couldn’t stop staring the moment I saw her. And deep down, I think we’re all romantics.” His hand slid into hers and squeezed, in a surprisingly comforting move. “Don’t know that I’d have to go too far to find it in Chance, though.”
Chance blushed. He certainly knew how to play the boyfriend well, she had to give him that. She’d have to remember to reward him in their next session.
“Clearly you’re seeing a different side to Chance than any of us ever have.” Belinda sniffed, looking sullen. “I mean, this is the same girl we all called the Anti-Valentine in high school.”
Landry laughed before Chance could reply. “You two are worse than my sisters. Dieu, they were always at each other. We’ll say your sister knows what I need, and leave the rest between us.”
Belinda made a face that clearly stated she didn’t approve, but left it alone. Fortunately, her father picked up the thread of conversation.
“How do you like it with the Corps, Sergeant?”
Landry smiled at her father. “I love it, sir. Can’t say I love all the work, some of it’s hard as hell, and the locations aren’t always great.”
“You serve in that mess in the Middle East?”
He nodded. “Two tours in Iraq, and a short run in Afghanistan. Wondered sometimes how much we were helping. Others times, I wondered if we weren’t trying too hard, trying to do too much. It’s a different world over there, a harsher one. Different way of thinking, of surviving. Hurts the soul, some of the things I saw.”
Chance’s father nodded. “Know what you mean. I was part of one of the last groups deployed in ’Nam. Wasn’t there for long, they’d already begun mass withdrawals. But it was ugly, all of it. Makes you look at life different.”
Landry nodded. “What branch?”
Mr. Gordon grinned. “Same as you. Didn’t stay in, though. Detroit was a different place then. The plants were still running full, providing for everyone. I got on with Ford, stayed with them until they pulled out a few years back and let most of us go.”
“Honest work, that.”
“It had its own downsides. But what doesn’t? How long do you plan to stick with the Devil Dogs? You career?”
Landry nodded. “They’ve talked once or twice about Officer Candidates School. Asked me to consider it while I’m here working with the Reserve.”
“Will you?”
Chance raised her eyebrow a fraction when he looked at her, and she ran her thumb over the hand she realized she was still holding.
“Depends. I think I’d like to, though.”
They settled into more benign conversation, and the rest of lunch passed in uneventful cordiality.
* * * * *
“So, is he perfect, or is he perfect?”
Chance rolled her eyes at Cass, but smiled as she walked past into the Domme’s living room. “He’s…pretty damn perfect.” She dropped onto the couch with a sigh and toed off her sandals. Much as Chance loved her Domme-wear and dressing up in general, there was a lot to be said for kicking back in a pair of gym shorts and a tank. “He’s even got Bels worried.”
Cass sat next to her, smiling as Ellie wandered in with two glasses of wine. “That’s quite the accomplishment.”
“Right?”
“But I wasn’t talking about his ability to charm your stuck-up family. I figured he’d be a shoo-in. I meant in the bedroom.”
Chance gave an overexaggerated roll of her eyes. “It’s not like we’re actually dating, Cass. I’m training him.”
Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “You’re at least fucking him, aren’t you?”
Chance laughed. “I wasn’t going to so soon. I wanted to actually do this right. But God, Cass, he’s… Yeah, we’re fucking. And he’s both a natural-born submissive and brilliant in bed. You wouldn’t believe the fun I’m having with him.”
Cassandra gave her a sly smile. “So are you going to ask him?”
“Ask what? He’s already posing for my family.”
Cass swatted at her. “No shit, woman. I’m talking about a collar. And not simply for training or protection. I know A wants him introduced at Fleur this month.”
Chance stared at her friend. “You mean collar collar? Cass, he’s brand new. And I’m training him. There’s so much he’s still got to learn, and what if he wants to explore his options?”
“Please, Chance. He’s had sessions with almost all of A’s Pro-Dommes. I think he knows what his options are.”
“Those are only the Pros, though. What about—”
“What about what you want?” Cass shoved her in the shoulder. “I’m serious here. He’s perfect for you. Even Tamara knew it, and she only saw him in the middle of that mess with Moira’s ex. She hadn’t even worked with him!”
Chance groaned, leaning back against the sofa. “He is perfect. Okay? But honestly, Cass, I can’t think about shit like that with my family in town. I barely have time to think, period, between Adrian loading me up on clients, training Landry and dealing with them! And Bels is up to something, I’d swear it. She’s got that look.”
“You need to tell them, Chance. What’s the worst that will happen, besides they finally leave you alone?”
“You really don’t know my family. Bels would be thrilled, of course, but she’d probably convince Mom to drag Reverend Whittier down here to rescue me from my awful life of sin. You really think they’ll see me as anything besides a glorified hooker?”
Cass sighed. “We’re not hookers, and you know that. We don’t fuck for money. We beat people for money. And even if we did, it wouldn’t be any of their business. Plus, A would kill anyone who called us that. Besides, you’re all respectable and shit, with your fancy couples therapy and sex therapy and everything. You have a life, and it’s a good life, and you love it! So fuck them if they don’t understand. It’s not their life.”
Chance sipped at her wine and grimaced. “I know. It’s just… I’ve had their expectations hanging over me for so long. It wasn’t enough to work my way through college, or to get a degree in therapy. Who cares that I’m helping people, that I’m smart and that I love my life? There’s obviously something wrong with me because I’m not married and popping out little mini-mes like Bels is.”
“Which is why you need to tell them. Their expectations and prejudices are not your problem. And if telling them you’re a Pro-Domme gets them off your back, all the better.”
Chance stared at her wine, refusing to look at her friend. “Yeah.”
“You know I’m right.”
She sighed, then finally looked at Cass. “I know you’re right. Hell, Landry basically said the same thing. Doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Families like to make shit complicated.”
“That’s certainly the truth.”
Cass grinned, poking at her knee with a single manicured finger. “So. Are you going to ask him?”
“Cass!”
Chapter Seven
Landry propped a booted foot up on the restaurant’s patio wall and stared out across the city as the daylight faded. “How did you get into this, anyway?”
Chance gave a small laugh and smiled. He’d agreed to another dinner with her family, and they’d arrived early enough to steal a few quiet moments alone before the rest were ready to go. “Kink? Or being a Pro-Domme?” They were the same thing for her, but he wouldn’t necessarily know that.
“Both. Either.” His forehead wrinkled as his brow pulled down. “I guess they could be different stories, couldn’t they? My Vieux always did tell me my mouth ran faster than my
head.”
This time Chance laughed outright. “I think everyone’s does, sometimes. But in this case, yes, the answer is the same. Adrian found me.” She leaned back in her chair and sipped her drink. “I was working as a stripper my freshman year at Tulane. To pay for college. That whole therapist cover I gave my family isn’t entirely untrue. I have a degree in psychology and a minor in gender and sexuality studies, and I actually practice as a couples and sex therapist. But it wasn’t exactly a cheap degree.” A grin pulled at her mouth as Landry’s eyes whipped to her. “Adrian walked in one night. I don’t know how or why, but somebody somewhere must’ve told him about me, because he asked for me by name.”
She reached down to her purse and pulled out a beat-up black card with a white voodoo death mask on one side and the words La Danse Macabre in silver script. Chance held it up, and Landry raised his brows in recognition. “He handed me this without a word, only that damnable sly smile he does so well. I had no idea who he was. From the way the manager looked at him, like he was poaching, I thought he must’ve been from another strip club.” She ran her thumb over the card before putting it carefully away. “Walking into Macabre was like…not quite like coming home, but like that first mile when you know you’re heading home. I didn’t know what I was in for, but I knew I needed it in my life.”
Landry nodded slowly. “For true. I’d been skirting that edge for years without knowing it. It was a relief when Faye explained it to me. Everyone seems to think that a military man must love being in charge, but for me it was the opposite. I love the order, the regimented life. But women always expected me to take charge in the bedroom.”
Chance laughed, but reached out and touched his arm. “You really are a natural sub. Must’ve been awfully frustrating for you.”
He shrugged. “In a number of ways. At least now I know.”
“And you’re finally getting what you need. That’s as important, too.”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything else, and they sat together in companionable silence for several minutes before Landry’s brows pulled down.
Chance caught the motion immediately, since her eyes had been tracing the smooth planes of his face. “What is it?”
“I like spending time with you. I love our sessions, and learning more about this world. I even like spending time with your family. It’s given me a unique opportunity to get to know you better.”
Chance watched his face carefully. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming.” She glanced down at their fingers softly intertwining, and wondered silently when the line between giving a sub general training, and said sub pretending to be her boyfriend for cover, had blurred toward training him for herself, and the boyfriend act feeling far more real.
It’s not real. You’re training him for A, and he’s doing you a favor.
But the question wouldn’t let go entirely—what if she wanted it to be real? And Cassandra’s pushing the other night hadn’t helped. Truth was, she liked having him in her life. He fit in a way no sub she’d worked with before had.
Realizing he’d never responded, she looked up to find Landry’s warm brown eyes focused on her, and for once, she couldn’t quite read them. “What?”
He shook his head slowly, eyes never wavering. “I told you before, I don’t like lying. I really think you need to tell them.”
Chance sucked in a breath. She should have known this was coming.
“It may not be my place, but I can’t help noticing how unhappy you are around them. You’re a completely different person in our sessions. Strong, sure of yourself. You run me ragged, like I need. Here though, with your family? That Domme who knows what she wants, who’s happy with her life, she’s nowhere to be found.”
She stared at him in shock. He’d spoken so softly, she’d almost missed it, and yet the words thundered through her. Because he was right. But being told so bluntly made her wince. “Wow. That’s…kind of a slap in the face.”
Landry sighed. “Mais, I’m not trying to put you down. I like you, a lot. Which makes it that much harder to see how much you change around them. It’s not good. It’s not healthy. And it makes it hard for me to see you as the Domme you’ve showed me I need.”
Chance stiffened. “What the hell?” She pushed up out of her chair and stepped away, before whirling back to face him. “How dare you? You think spending a few weeks with me and meeting my family a handful of times makes you an expert? That it gives you the right to tell me what is and isn’t healthy?”
“Mais, no, please, I’m not trying—”
“To what, tell me how to live my life? God, you’re as bad as them.”
He stood, taking a step toward her. “Chance, please—”
“God, you two are pathetic.”
Both of them turned as Belinda scoffed from the doorway. Chance rolled her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t stop on my account. Sounds like it was about to get good. Honestly though, I don’t know why you two are still putting on this ridiculous farce, anyway. Aren’t you sick of pretending?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Her sister’s attitude on top of Landry’s words had her seething. Worse, she felt a sudden sinking in her gut that Bels knew too much. She forced herself to breathe slowly, resisting the urge to move closer to Landry.
Her sister walked forward to lean against their table, arms crossed and glaring. “I have to give it to you, Chance. You had everybody fooled, even me. Your performance was outstanding.”
Chance stilled, then slowly crossed her arms. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, Bels.”
“This whole act between you and your soldier, here. Or should I say, your client.” Belinda’s glare turned sour as the blood drained from Chance’s face. “God, Mom and Dad are going to flip their shit when I tell them this whole sordid thing is nothing more than a scam to get into their good graces.”
Landry’s hand on her wrist made her realize exactly how tense she was. The touch froze her in place, and she was ready to turn her anger back on him. But despite his earlier words, one look calmed her, irrationally so. She knew she should be furious, had every right to be, but maybe…maybe she didn’t. Maybe he was right, because if she’d told them like he’d asked, they wouldn’t be in this position now. She took a deep breath and nodded once. Landry returned a subtle nod of his own and slowly faced Belinda.
“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but it ends here. My relationship with your sister is no one’s business but our own.”
Chance didn’t even have to look to see that Landry’s words hadn’t had the effect he’d hoped. Nice of him to try, though. Sure enough, Belinda wore an all-too-familiar expression of disgust.
“Oh, he’s so cute trying to lay down the law. But isn’t that your job, sis? You’re the Dominatrix, from what I hear. You know, you did nothing but sneer at me the whole time you were in Michigan. I invited you to my home, to get to know your only nephew, but I see the looks you give me when you think I’m not looking, like I’m a fool for wanting a family of my own. Yet here you are, using a stand-in as a boyfriend. A client as a boyfriend. You act like you’re above us all when you’re basically a glorified whore—”
Chance’s hand cracked across her sister’s face, halting her midsentence. “You haven’t got a fucking clue what I do, Belinda. You never have. You’re nothing but a spoiled, selfish bitch, who can’t stand to see that I might actually be happy.”
Her sister glared back looking ready to kill. “You just blew any chance you had of keeping me from telling Mom and Dad.” She glanced back and forth between Chance and Landry, who’d moved to stand supportively behind her. “I don’t know why you’re so loyal. How can she be any good bossing you around, if she can’t even get her own shit together? Run back to your superiors, soldier boy. I’m sure they’d be happy to provide a beating, if that’s all you need.”
&
nbsp; Chance felt Landry stiffen behind her, but he stayed quiet. “Go to hell, Belinda. My life is mine to live, and I don’t have to answer to you. Neither does Landry.”
“You’re right, you don’t. Can’t say the same for Mom and Dad, though.” Her eyes flicked between them again, a self-righteous tone creeping into her voice. “You two disgust me. You better pray this doesn’t send Dad back to the hospital.”
She spun on her heels and left the patio as Chance seethed in her wake. “Fuck.”
Landry shifted behind her. She turned to look, only to see him shaking his head. “I think I need to go.”
“Lanrdy, I’m so sorry.”
He sighed, running a hand over his head. He looked for a moment like he was about to say something, but his mouth stayed shut. Instead, he shook his head again and walked away.
Chance watched him go, her heart sinking. Fuck. Her earlier anger at him had vanished, replaced by the certain knowledge that he was right. She wasn’t behaving like any kind of Domme, especially not the kind he needed. She couldn’t please them and herself; it simply wasn’t possible. Trying had only ruined the best thing she’d ever had. I should have seen this coming. I should’ve… She closed her eyes for a moment, clenching her fists, and breathed through the despair and panic. One thing at a time. She needed to talk to A. Who knew how Bels had found out, but she need to make sure it was contained.
And then she’d find Landry. After she’d made this right.
Fuck.
* * * * *
Devon greeted her at the door. Despite being a solid wall of muscle, one that Lacroix rarely allowed to wear a shirt, Devon was easily one of the gentlest souls Chance had ever met. Which made her feel awful for snapping at him the minute the door opened.
Awful enough that she forced herself to call him back and apologize.
Bonne Chance: Bourbon Street, Book 2 Page 6