“Thanks.” I take a sip. The two of us sit in silence, lost in our own thoughts, until the sound of a car draws me out of my reverie. “Someone’s coming down the lane.”
“After last night, my money’s on Xavier,” Adrian replies.
Sure enough, when the Range Rover pulls up to a stop, Xavier Leforte gets out and heads our way. “So,” he says cautiously as he nears us, “I brought a few bottles of wine as a peace offering. How furious are you?”
“Pretty fucking furious,” Adrian answers evenly. “Start talking, Xavier. No more secrets. Fiona was badly traumatized last night, and you better have a fucking good reason.”
“I didn’t know.” He kicks off his loafers and sits down on the dock. “I promise you, I had no idea.” He stares at the water for several long minutes. “I reviewed the tapes last night. I’m sorry. Had I known she’d react that way, I’d have never offered her the job.”
“Is the job even real?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I think of that particular deflection, but before I can speak, he continues. “In February, Raymond Downing was in Thailand for a two-week vacation. He goes every year. Rents himself a mansion just outside Bangkok. Hires a few girls to pleasure him.”
“Prostitutes.”
Xavier nods grimly. “The girls are poor. They’re feeding their families the only way they know how. They don’t have anyone to complain to if Downing gets a bit rough.”
I draw in a slow, steady breath. “He got too rough?”
“Yes. One of the girls died. Of course, it got swept under the table. Downing bribed some cops, his father pulled a few strings, and everything was hushed up. After all, who cares if a poor prostitute gets killed?”
“Does the senator know?”
Xavier shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. Downing is getting his money from somewhere, and his father is the most likely source.”
“He goes every year, you said.” Adrian surveys Xavier steadily. “Was this the first time?”
The Belgian laughs bitterly. “Oh, I very much doubt it. This time though, something was different. Layla was there.”
“Your Layla?”
There’s a brief flicker of pain in his eyes, gone almost before I catch it. “She’s hardly my Layla anymore,” he says, his eyes focused on the water. “She’s working at a non-profit in Bangkok. The dead prostitute’s younger sister worked with Layla. She was crying one day. Layla asked why. One thing led to another, and she found out.”
The sharp, hot edge of my anger blunts a little. Xavier would walk through fire for Layla.
“She was planning to take matters into her own hands,” he says heavily. “If Downing died, his father would move heaven and earth to track his son’s killer down. The trail would have eventually led to her. And I cannot allow that.”
“So you let Downing join the club,” Adrian says. “That’s why you wanted to catch him in something. To protect Layla.”
It’ll always be Layla Shleifer for Xavier Leforte.
“Yes.” Xavier takes a deep breath. “I owe Fiona an apology. To keep Layla safe, I risked her, and I shouldn’t have. I will pay her for the job, of course. I’ll find another way to deal with Raymond.”
Adrian sips his coffee. “You’re in luck,” he says, his tone dry. “She wants to go back.”
“She does?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” His lips twist. “If it were my decision to make, she’d go nowhere near Club Ménage as long as there was any chance of Downing being there.”
“But?”
“But Downing controlled her every move and restricted her autonomy, and I don’t want to do that. As much as I want to growl and rage and forbid her from ever setting foot inside your stupid club again, I can’t.”
“My stupid club? Thanks.” He gives Adrian a direct look. “I’m going to put all my cards on the table. If Downing realizes he’s falling into a trap, he could get vicious. How do you feel about Fiona putting herself in danger?”
Sandy had thrown herself into danger all the time. She shouldn’t have been on the slopes that day in Vermont. The visibility had been poor, and she’d been out of practice, but she’d insisted she could do the black diamond slope.
The accident wasn’t Sandy’s fault. It wasn’t Adrian’s either. Sometimes, bad things happen. It’s random and unfair and heartbreaking, but it doesn’t mean that anyone is responsible. Sandy lived life to the fullest. It was who she was. For us to curtail her activities would have been to deny her a part of herself.
How do you feel about Fiona putting herself in danger? I hear the question that’s buried underneath Xavier’s question. If something were to happen to Fiona, will Adrian blame himself?
Yes. As sure as my name is Brody Alexander Payne, I know that Adrian will hold himself responsible. It’s what he does.
“I don’t like it,” Adrian responds. “But it’s not my call. She says she needs to face her fears.”
Xavier rolls his eyes. “She’s not the only one who needs to do that,” he says, getting to his feet. “Are you coming back to the club tonight?”
“No,” I reply. Fiona needs some space first, and I have to admit, I really want to get to know her better. Not Fifi the submissive, but Fiona Clarke, the woman. “We’re going to hang out here. Eat some food. Drink some wine. Take the boat out. It’s supposed to be a lovely weekend. I’m planning on enjoying it.”
“I’ll see you next week then.” A smile tips the corners of his mouth. “I’ll leave the wine on the porch. Enjoy your weekend.”
Fiona:
The sun’s rays streaming into my room wake me up. Adrian and Brody are nowhere to be seen. I get to my feet, wincing as yesterday’s memories flood back. There’s a part of me that wants to run away as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, my car is still back at Club Ménage.
Last night, I’d barely looked around the one-room cabin. Though it’s small, it’s gorgeous. It’s all wood and glass. Built at the edge of a lake, the view from the window is of water. If there are other cabins in sight, I can’t see them.
Inside, the cottage is L-shaped, with the kitchen taking up one end, and the bedroom the other. The living room, with a wood-burning fireplace, bridges the two.
The kitchen has butcher block counter-tops and stainless steel appliances, and looks like it wouldn’t be out of place in a sleek condo in the city. The living room and bedroom are more rustic. The two leather couches show signs of wear and tear. The coffee table is battered. The bed is covered by a quilt that’s obviously handmade. The place looks comfortable and lived-in.
“Good morning.” The door swings open and Adrian comes in, carrying a case of wine. Brody follows him with two bags of groceries, which he sets down on the kitchen island. “Want some coffee, Fiona?” he asks me.
“Yes please.” I’m feeling a little awkward after last night. “Did you guys go shopping?”
Adrian chuckles. “No, this was Xavier. He swung by this morning to see if you were okay. The wine is his peace offering.”
Brody grinds a handful of coffee beans and gets the coffeemaker going. He pulls a bottle of wine out of the case to look at the label. “Nice,” he says appreciatively. “Here you go, Fiona. When Xavier Leforte apologizes, it’s with a case of wine that’s worth a few thousand dollars.”
“That’s generous.” Xavier would have known that Raymond was a member of the club. He’d deliberately hidden that piece of information from me, all so that I would investigate the blackmailer in his fucking club.
I give into a moment of pure anger, but it vanishes as quickly as it arrives. Had I not seen Raymond, I’d never have confronted my demons. I’d have spent a lifetime pretending they didn’t exist. “This is a great place. Do you guys spend all your weekends here?”
“Sadly, no,” Adrian replies with a smile. “We can’t get away from the city that often.” He clears his throat. “I bought the property after Sandy died. I needed a place to mou
rn, and the city was too noisy. Here, in the quiet of the cabin, I could hear my thoughts, and I could make my peace with what had happened.”
Oh. It’s the first time either man has told me anything intimate. It feels nice.
A brief silence falls over the three of us. Brody breaks it by handing me a cup of coffee. “Here you go, Fiona. Milk, sugar?”
I decline both. “Xavier asked us if we were going to head back to the club tonight,” Adrian says as I sip my coffee. “I said no. I’ll give you a ride back to Club M if you’d like, or…” His eyes find mine. “You could stay here for the weekend.”
“Here?”
“No pressure,” Adrian adds. “This isn’t about sex. It’s not about bondage and submission either. You’re our guest. All you need to do is have fun.”
“Well, that’s not precisely true.” Brody grins as he pulls a carton of eggs out of the grocery bag. “You’ll have to stroke my ego by telling me I’m an excellent cook. And Adrian likes his taste in wine complimented.”
“I do not,” Adrian says, a note of indignation in his voice.
“Please,” Brody scoffs, laughing. “You absolutely do. You hover over people with a bottle in your hand, waiting for them to take a sip and tell you all about undertones of cherry and vanilla.” He grins at me. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”
“Duly noted.” I know what I should do. I should head back to Club Ménage and continue my search for the blackmailer. But I don’t want to do that. What I really want to do is stay here and get to know these two men better.
“Do you need a hand with breakfast?”
Brody shakes his head. “Nope. I’ve got it. Relax, make yourself at home. There’s no TV here, but there is Wi-fi.”
I can’t remember the last time I took a proper vacation. I walk to the window and take in the view. The vegetation is very different from the small town I grew up in, but the feel of the place, calm, peaceful, and serene, reminds me of home. “Do you have any neighbors here?”
“There’s another cabin about a mile down the road,” Adrian replies. “You can’t really see it from here.” He stretches lazily. “Do you want to hit the shower first, or should I?”
Shower with me. I bite those words back before I blurt them out. “Could I go first?” I just realized I’m standing around in my pajamas. Last night, I’d been too tired to care that my t-shirt and sleep shorts are faded and ratty, but suddenly, I don’t want to look like a slob.
I’m definitely attracted to Adrian and Brody. After last night, my attraction might even have morphed into something deeper. But I need to pause, to catch my breath.
If I jump into a BDSM relationship with Adrian and Brody, I want to do it wholeheartedly.
It needs to be about more than just scratching an itch.
22
Adrian:
After breakfast, I turn to Fiona. “The water is pretty warm,” I tell her. “Do you want to take the canoe out and paddle around the lake?”
Her face brightens. “There’s a canoe? Brilliant.”
“You say that now,” Brody grumbles. “But Adrian built this canoe. It’s stupidly heavy and tippy, but he’s attached to it and won’t get rid of it.”
She laughs. “I grew up in a fishing village in Maine,” she says. “I’ve spent more time in the water than on land. I’ll be fine.”
The water’s surface is as calm as glass, and there’s not a single powerboat in sight. It’s a great day to be outside.
Admit it, Lockhart. It’s not just the weather. It’s the girl.
I push that thought away. It’s a beautiful summer day, and I want to enjoy every minute of it. I don’t want to relive the past, and I don’t want to contemplate the future. I just want to enjoy the present.
We paddle for a couple of hours. We’re a good distance from the cabin when I hear the faint sound of a car engine. A pair of cars is making their way up my driveway. “Hey, that’s my car,” Fiona says as she catches sight of them. “Good for Xavier. I’m still annoyed with him for not warning me about Raymond, but I’ve got to say, he thinks of everything.”
The driver parks Fiona’s car next to mine before driving away in the other car. “How far away from the club are we?” she asks curiously.
“Forty-five minutes,” I answer absently, my thoughts elsewhere. I should tell her that we knew about Raymond too. She has a right to know that Xavier asked us to protect her.
She’s going to think that’s the reason you’re spending time with her. Because of Xavier.
Fuck. We might have backed ourselves into a corner here.
It’s almost lunch, and we’re thinking of heading back when it starts to drizzle. “Oh come on,” I grouse. “Seriously?”
I look up at the sky, which has, in the space of minutes, filled with ominous-looking rain clouds. The drizzle is the start of a much bigger storm. “We should head back,” Fiona says, though the reluctance in her voice is clear. “I’ve been caught in a downpour before. It’s not fun.”
“I agree.” Brody starts to paddle in the direction of the dock. Fiona reaches for an oar, and I take it from her.
“Seriously?” She rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe you won’t let me paddle. I’m from Maine, remember? I’ve kayaked in the sea. Compared to that, this lake is child’s play.”
“Yes, Fiona.” Brody’s tone is amused. “We both know that. Tomorrow, we’ll put you in a kayak, and you can play all you want.”
We pull up to the dock, and Fiona jumps out and helps us pull the boat out of the water. By now, the drizzle has intensified. Fat, cold raindrops are dripping down my neck, a distinctly unpleasant sensation. “Go in,” Brody urges Fiona.
She frowns at us. Stubborn woman. “I want to help.”
The sky opens up right then, and the three of us abandon the canoe and set off in a run toward the cabin. “What about the boat?” Fiona pants once we’d reached the porch.
“With any luck, that monstrosity will get swept into the lake,” Brody quips.
I flip Brody the bird, and Fiona bursts into laughter. I take off my sodden t-shirt as I watch the rain. Fiona shivers, the amused look suddenly leaving her eyes. My cock stirs in my shorts at her reaction. “Like what you see?”
“Yes.” She takes a half-step toward me.
Brody clears his throat, and that snaps me out of my daze. As attracted as I am to Fiona, I’ve got to take things slow. I turn to push open the front door and almost fall over the medium-sized box that’s propped up next to the doorway. “What’s this?”
Brody picks it up. “It’s addressed to you, Fiona.” We go inside, and he sets the box down on the coffee table. “Since the only people that have been here were the employees from Club Ménage, I think it’s safe to say that this is from Xavier.”
“More wine?” she asks dryly. “How much does he think I drink?” There’s an envelope taped to the box. She opens it and reads aloud. “’Just in case.’ Just in case of what?”
I have a very good idea what it contains. Sure enough, when Fiona opens the box, it’s filled with sex toys.
Xavier Leforte is a busybody who seems intent on matchmaking.
Fiona:
After dinner, Adrian lights the fireplace, and the three of us settle around it. I stare at the flickering flames in silence, my need warring with residual fear. A few moments of silence pass, and then I gather my courage in my hands. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What do you like about being dominant?”
Brody and Adrian exchange looks. “It turns me on,” Brody replies carefully, “when a submissive puts her faith in me. When she trusts me enough to put her pleasure in my hands, knowing that I will give her what she needs.”
Raymond liked ordering me around. “You’re not attracted by the power?”
“You mean, am I interested in barking orders at my submissive all the time?” he asks, his lips curling into a smile. “No. Both Adrian and I get enough of that at work.”
I sip my wine and consider that. Adrian speaks up. “I have a theory about Downing.”
“You do?”
He nods. “Downing doesn’t have any power in his life,” he says. “He doesn’t work. He’s dependent on his father for money and connections. Because of that, he looks for total dominance over his submissive. He’s compensating. The more obedient you were, the more he could preen in front of all his friends.”
“That’s not you?”
“No.” He reaches forward and rubs my shoulder, his hands warm and strong. “It’s about you,” he says. “Your pleasure, your happiness. If you were ever afraid of me, the way you were with Downing, it would fill me with shame. That kind of terror has no place in a BDSM relationship. Your submission should come from a place of trust, not fear.”
I’ve managed to ignore the box of sex toys all afternoon. Now, I look at it again, my blood heating with anticipation. “Why did Xavier send me these?”
Brody rolls his eyes. “He can’t keep himself from meddling,” he says, his voice exasperated. “Don’t worry about it. I told you, no pressure.”
But what if I want to? When Adrian took off his wet shirt, it was everything I could do to stop myself from licking the raindrops off his skin. Those firm abs… I do not have the power to resist.
Adrian gets up to refill my wine glass. I pull the box closer to me, and Brody’s eyebrow rises. “What?” I ask defensively. “I can look, right?” I take a fortifying sip of my wine. “Why does Xavier like to meddle?”
“He was in love once, and he lost her,” Adrian replies. “I think that’s made him a romantic.”
Oh. I’m definitely interested in knowing more. Had I not been curious, I would have chosen a different profession. Private investigators tend to be a nosy bunch. But right now, I’m more interested in Brody and Adrian, and in this box of sex toys.
There’s a buttplug inside, one with a tail attached to it. I reach for it, my cheeks flaming. “The demo that I volunteered to do,” I say, my voice barely a whisper, “What does it involve?” Will you walk me through it?”
Claiming Fifi Page 12