Bonds of Desire

by Lynda Aicher

  “Me, too.” Seth put his arm around Allie and gave her a squeeze. “We’re good together. I want to keep seeing both of you.”

  “Yeah, right.” He pushed away from the wall. He wasn’t surprised when they let him pass so easily. “You’ll hit the real world and wonder why you ever dipped so low in the first place.” He reached the door, flicked the locks and yanked it open, the whole time wanting them to fight for him while knowing he had to go.

  “You’re wrong.” Allie stepped up and gripped his arm before he could leave. She grabbed his face and kissed him with the passion and heat he’d come to crave. She claimed him right there in much the same way that he’d done to her in bed. His chest ached as he pulled back and stepped out the door.

  He hesitated and gave in, looking back one more time. This last picture of the two of them would be one he held on to forever. Maybe it was all fake or just a walk on the wild side for them, but they’d made him feel special for the first time in his memory. Right up until this last move.

  When they made him feel like their personal whore.

  “I really wish I was.” He closed the door behind him, each step down the hallway a shot of pain that beat the hell out of any physical wounds he’d ever suffered.

  This shouldn’t hurt. But it fucking ripped his heart to shreds.

  * * *

  “We can’t let him leave.” Allie spun back to face Seth, her anger venting on the only man left. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

  This was crazy. The whole thing was crazy. From the moment she’d walked into this loft, her life had turned upside down and sideways. Now she didn’t know how to right it.

  He stared at her, a line of complete stiffness from his face to his shoulders and down to his bare feet. The same hurt that twisted in her showed briefly in his creased brow before it smoothed away. “We can’t force him to stay.”

  Of course they couldn’t. Just like they hadn’t forced her to stay. Yet...

  “Come here, Allie.” Seth opened his arms, and she stepping into them without hesitation. She snuggled into his chest, inhaling his scent that held a lingering whiff of sex. He ran his fingers through her hair until they stalled at the tangles leftover from last night. “Did you honestly think we could keep this?”

  She knew what he meant. The three of them together. She didn’t even pretend to understand her feelings. “No.” But the thought of letting them both go, of not having this closeness with them ever again tore a ragged cut of confusion through her. “Yes. I don’t know.” The conflicting emotions turned her voice to mush. “How can we? It’s not even close to accepted or condoned.”

  “And that matters?” Although his tone hadn’t changed, there was an added stiffness to his words.

  She had to be honest, even though it hurt to say. “Yes.”

  He tilted her chin up, assessing her in a way she’d grown to understand. It was as if he never quite believed what he saw on the surface. “So it’s like Tyler said. We’ve been in a bubble for days, and going back to the real world means the end? For all of us?”

  She kissed him softly on the lips. How could she explain? “This wasn’t normal by any means, and my decision to come back wasn’t done lightly. But we’re all so different.”

  “That wasn’t a problem this past week.”

  “Because we never left,” she insisted at the challenge in his tone. But he was right. Their differences had only brought them closer. Until now. She took a breath, holding the air until her lungs burned and the threat of tears diminished. She wet her lips and whispered, “I don’t know where we go from here.”

  He pulled her close, and she soaked up his warmth, stealing every moment that she could. Her stomach ached and churned when she thought of the hurt and betrayal on Tyler’s face. No matter their intentions, they’d wronged him.

  “Do you think he’ll ever forgive us?” She pressed into Seth, the remorse bitter in her mouth.

  “I don’t know.” He held her tighter, his voice thick. “Do you?”

  She swallowed, struggling against the truth. “We meant well, but Tyler was right. We should’ve talked to him.” Her chest tightened with the admission.

  “He wouldn’t have taken our help.” He pulled back, his expression pained yet firm. “He might hate me, but I don’t regret what I did.”

  “It wasn’t just you. We’re both responsible.” She might not have known all the details, but she’d been a part of it too. “Why didn’t you tell me about the loan-shark debt?”

  “I didn’t want you involved.” He stepped away from her, the sudden loss of his warmth sinking into her bones. “There was too much risk. The less you knew—know—the better.”

  He was trying to protect her, just like with Tyler. She understood that, yet his secrecy stung. And it was only a fraction of what they’d kept from Tyler. The full depth of their betrayal sunk in with each shuddering breath. “He’s done with us.”

  Seth hung his head, his eyes closing. “Probably.” He looked at her and asked the question she’d been avoiding. “Are we done?”

  Were they? She didn’t want to say the next words, but she forced them out. “Is there really an us with him?” She wiped at her tears and tried to blink them back. “This relationship was built with the three of us. I don’t—” she cleared her throat, “—I don’t think it’ll work with just two. Not now. We’d always know he was missing.”

  He sniffed and stared out the windows. The sunny day glared too brightly for the dismal mood in the room. “Right.”

  She’d known the end was coming, yet somewhere during her time at the loft she’d forgotten that. Her mindset had switched from having fun to wanting...more. It was her own fault. She’d lost her perspective, and now she had to right it.

  She walked away, brisk steps taking her to the bedroom and her bag. Her clothes were neatly organized, almost untouched since she’d arrived. The times she’d needed clothes, she’d worn one of Seth’s shirts. She changed into her capris and a tank top and had her stuff repacked in minutes. His shirt included.

  Maybe if she buried herself in her real life, she’d be able to forget them. But how? Seth and Tyler had filled a part of her she hadn’t recognized was empty. They’d shown her how strong she could still feel, even when she gave in to her desire to be...cherished. The thought of going back to her solitary apartment and insulated, career-focused life seemed increasingly lonely.

  The wheels on her suitcase rolled loud and hollow as she pulled it through the open space of the living room. Seth stood near the front door, his eyes focused toward the windows. The angled grace of his profile could have been chiseled from stone.

  She was slipping her sandals on before he finally spoke. “None of this was ever a game. Someone always loses when you play games, and I don’t want to lose either of you.” He looked at her then, but his emotions remained hidden. “Maybe we all need the space to figure out what we really want.”

  Her stomach clenched around the feelings she’d tried so hard to suppress. What she really wanted couldn’t happen. Even if Tyler had stayed, would she have been strong enough to withstand the opinions of the outside world? She didn’t honestly know.

  “Here.” He held out a small piece of paper. “It’s our cell numbers. Tyler might be more receptive to you. Maybe you can contact him in a few days. See if he’s okay.”

  She took the paper, glancing briefly at the numbers before stuffing the paper in her purse. “I will. I have some contacts who could help him if he responds.”

  He nodded, relief dropping through his shoulders. “Thank you.”

  There didn’t seem to be anything left to say, so she grabbed her suitcase and opened the front door. It was better to just to go.

  “Let me know. Okay, Allie?” It was the note of vulnerability that had her turning back to him. “If you hear from him? Let me know.”

  How could she not? “Of course.”

  The chill eased into her with each step she took down the hallway. She slung on he
r coat as she waited for the elevator, but it didn’t stop the full-body shiver that attacked her. When she’d decided to come back to the loft, she’d thought she’d been completely prepared for what would happen. It was a bit humbling to realize how wrong she’d been.

  The high ding signaled the arrival of the elevator moments before the doors slid open. Once again she was taken back to what seemed like ages ago when she’d stepped on the same elevator and swore she’d protect Tyler.

  Well, they’d done that. Only they may have hurt him more in the process.

  She looked up as the doors slid closed to catch Seth watching her from his doorway. Her chest constricted, her breath stalling around the shock of pain. Hidden within the safety of the elevator, she could let the truth come out.

  They’d done so much more than hurt Tyler. Somehow, they’d managed to hurt them all.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Seth stood on the edge of the crowded room, few of the patrons daring to glance his way as they passed. He recognized many of them from The Den. The leather community was tight, even in an area the size of the Twin Cities. It was his job to know who attended what clubs.

  The Roundhouse attracted an edgier crowd. Its name stemmed from the turntable in the center of the room that rotated the St. Andrew’s cross for all to see. It was currently occupied by a larger woman, her master proudly working her over for all to watch. From Seth’s angle, he could see that she was clearly into it. Her face had passed into the slack, accepting glaze that usually came when a submissive was floating in subspace.

  There were a number of Dungeon Masters patrolling the area, defining that safety was still a priority. Multiple open Scenes took place among the mingling crowd of voyeurs. To Seth’s left, a male sub groaned through the agonizing slow descent of a sound, the long metal rod being lowered into his urethra by a Domme. And across the room the rhythmic slap of a paddle against flesh resounded over the crowd.

  None of it was new to Seth. And none of it held his interest.

  It’d been almost two weeks since Tyler and Allie had left. In that time he’d exchanged a few text messages with Allie, but nothing with Tyler. The man wouldn’t return a single call or text from either of them.

  Seth had managed to fuck that up completely, and it ate at him. There had to be something he could do to fix it, but hell if he knew what it was. He wouldn’t apologize for buying out Tyler’s contracts. Everything he’d done had been to help the man, yet he was the bad guy. Go figure.

  He checked the time then pushed away from the wall to weave his way through the crowd. A few of the club owners met every month to exchange information and keep a general pulse on the community. The Den’s contracts prevented him from sharing member names and details, but some of the other clubs didn’t have those restrictions.

  The general chatter and cries from the open room dimmed as he headed down the long hall near the back of the club. The scent of sweat and come wasn’t quite as pungent, but it still reminded Seth of a men’s locker room.

  A door swung open, and a broad man stepped out of a private room, a whip coiled in his hand. He was turned away from Seth, but the site of the tool brought back instant memories of the damage that implement had caused to Tyler. Seth halted, his eyes glued to the eight-foot braided-leather bullwhip.

  A hot flush of anger flooded his blood when he spotted the dark, crimson steaks that marred the brown leather and pale skin on the Dom’s hand. Fucking idiots. Did these men really think it was okay to beat anyone to that level? Seth prided himself on being open. He had to be in order to run The Den. But he would never understand blood play.

  Ready to lay into the man, Seth was unprepared when the Dom closed the door and turned around. The black head mask did nothing to disguise Master Rex to him. His fists clenched and his muscles quivered against the restraint it took to keep his punch from flying.

  Recognition snapped into the dark eyes behind the mask a second before the sinister smile hooked up the corner of his lip. “Following me now?”

  Words finally came back to Seth. “What the fuck are you doing? Didn’t you learn anything?”

  The city councilman had the audacity to laugh, arrogance surrounding him like a dark cloak that he wore with pride. “Cut the bullshit. When are you letting me back in your club?”

  “Never. You arrogant prick.” Seth pushed past the man to shove open the door to the private room. His stomach rolled at the sight of the whipped and bloody man the aftercare crew was releasing from the cross. The site and smells mixed with his memories until horror and revulsion snaked up Seth’s throat to choke him.

  Not again. God, please, not again. How could Tyler do that after all they’d done for him? He didn’t need this. Didn’t want this. Didn’t he understand how much they cared about him? How much he meant to Seth?

  Through the haze that clouded his mind, one thought finally got through—it wasn’t Tyler on the cross. The man was smaller, brown hair, younger. Not his Tyler. But still a man who didn’t deserve to be treated like shit.

  Seth reacted, instincts overriding any scrap of logic that tried to intervene. He closed the door, spun around and pinned the Dom to the wall. The man was a few inches shorter than Seth, his bulk more fat than muscle. Taking the man down wouldn’t be hard.

  “That isn’t dominance,” Seth ground out. “That’s abuse. It’s sick and disgusting. Just like you.”

  The councilman struggled against the hold, beefy fingers scraping at Seth’s arm, which was press hard across his throat. Seth took great pleasure in watching the red creep up the man’s neck and over his cheeks as he struggled for breath.

  “What the fuck do you care?” Master Rex huffed out. He stopped struggling to challenge Seth with his eyes. “It’s just a goddamn whore anyway.”

  Seth’s rage was barely controlled behind the thin reminder that this wasn’t his club. “He,” Seth snapped, emphasizing the point with a sharp jab of his arm. “He is a human being who deserves more respect than you.”

  “What do you want?” the Dom snarled, his gaze cutting to the side. “You can’t touch me. And you sure as fuck can’t stop me.”

  “Seth.” The firm voice was followed by the strong hand that wrenched on Seth’s shoulder. “Let him go.”

  The bouncers might have arrived to save the lowlife, but Seth had one last message. He leaned in close to the scum’s ear. “You think so? Just watch me.”

  Seth stepped away, and the man bent over, making a show of exaggerated gasps for air. Melodramatics from a politician—fucking great.

  “What the hell are you doing, Mathews?” Chad, the club owner, glared at Seth. The man was a long-time associate, but he wouldn’t classify him as a friend. “You can’t attack my patrons.”

  Seth nodded toward the overreacting Dom. “You should tell him that. That man isn’t a Dom and doesn’t deserve the respect of one.”

  The councilman straightened to glower at Seth. “It was all consensual. It always is.”

  “‘Consensual’ is a loose term when the sub isn’t allowed a safe word.” Seth stepped forward, his fist raised to take Rex down.

  Chad thrust out a hand to smack Seth on the chest, the hard shove stopping his advance. Chad’s steely glare held no give. The club owner was built like a bulldog—short, stocky and solid muscle. “You need to leave.”

  The truth of that grated on Seth, but there was nothing more he could do here. He backed off, though it killed him to do so. “He’s been banned from our club. You’d be smart to do the same.”

  Chad’s glare hardened. “Don’t tell me how to run my club.” He glanced to the bouncer. “See that he leaves.”

  The gleam of victory that flashed in the cocky smirk of the councilman almost pulled Seth back. But he squelched the urge and stalked out of the club swearing one thing. Remington Harcourt, the esteemed Minneapolis City Council Member, would be lucky if he was allowed in any leather club within the Twin Cities once he was done with him.

  Tyler would ha
ve his revenge, even if Seth had to do it for him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Allie set the bottle of Champagne on the counter with her purse and briefcase, slipped off her heels and finally allowed herself to do a manic happy dance around the kitchen.

  “Woot!” She pumped a fist in the air. “Yes!”

  She’d been dying to do that all day but had to restrain herself. Until now.

  Her hours of hard work, dedication and sacrifice had finally paid off. She’d made partner. Goal achieved. The announcement had been a complete surprise that afternoon. Her hands were still shaking, not that she’d let anyone in the law firm see that. Now the suppressed adrenaline had to escaped somewhere.

  Exhaling a less-than-calming breath, she placed a hand over her racing heart and grinned at...her empty condo. Her place was full of nice furniture in dark colors with minimal accents, and it had never been so hollow.

  That quickly, her excitement fizzled.

  The Dom Pérignon taunted her. The gleaming black bottle with the understated gold label was a gift from the law firm, a mark to celebrate her achievement. But after her years of dedication and sacrifice, who else would really care?

  The silence descended to accentuate the point. She could shout and cheer all she wanted, but who would listen? Who would understand exactly how much this meant?

  Seth and Tyler.

  They were her first thought. The ones she’d immediately wanted to tell. But she couldn’t.

  Her heart constricted and ached in her chest. She pressed on the pain, breathing through the tightness like she’d done every time it’d happened since she’d left Seth’s loft. It would ease in a minute or two, if she just waited it out.

  After the second time it’d happened, she’d considered seeing a doctor. That was until she’d realized it only occurred when she thought of her men. Which had turned out to be a lot over the last month.