Talk For Me: Club Avalon Book 3

by Kay Elle Parker

  “They can take their wrath and stick it up their—”

  “Be careful what you say, Connie. They're standing on the moral high ground right now after last night, and I'm siding with them. What you did was irresponsible and put six lives in danger. What the hell possessed you to drive six months’ worth of whisky into the middle of nowhere and climb a fucking mountain, sugar? Were you gonna drink all those bottles in one go, or spread them out over a few days?”

  She sighed. “Okay, for the record, I don't drink over a certain amount. Three glasses of white wine or two of red is my limit, otherwise it leaves me exposed to migraines. There is no explanation why I bought so much of something I normally wouldn't drink, and I can't remember any of my thought processes. I do know that I didn’t drink a bottle and a half—I fell and spilled a lot. I have no recollection of where I left my car, other than it was near an acacia tree on the highway…I think. Quite frankly, I don't care. No one grabbed Atticus by his big ears and told him he had to go find me. I just wanted to be alone.”

  Okay, the gloves were off, he decided. Connie's speech was back to normal, no slurring, and she was using full sentences. She sounded brighter, which was a good sign. He glanced at his watch, saw they'd been napping for just over two hours, and reached out to switch the lamp on. He squinted against the sudden glare, then rolled onto his side to pin Connie with hard eyes.

  Oh yeah, her color was back. Looking at her now, no one would believe he'd been ready to call an EMT just a couple hours ago. She blinked like an owl, then yawned widely, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Sugar, one of Atticus's friends found your car dumped in a Feather Bush. No skid marks, no signs that you braked. You literally drove your car into the damn bush, got out with your stash of booze, and headed into the hills. Luckily, there was no damage to you or the car, but you could have been seriously hurt. Were you drinking behind the wheel?”

  Her entire demeanor changed in a heartbeat. The argumentative sub who was quite blasé about the entire thing was gone, and in her place was an ice queen, her frosty cloak drawn tight around herself. Connie's lip curled as she pushed herself up into a half-sitting position, and her gaze raked over him disdainfully. “I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Thane,” she said coldly. “No matter how angry I am, how hurt, I would never take control of a vehicle while under the influence.”

  All right, the Switch had a temper on her when she was riled, he thought with admiration. She certainly had the Domme persona down pat, but he had more stability in controlling both parts of himself. “No need to be defensive, Connie. It was just a question.”

  “You know what, thank you for everything, but I need to go. Alicia will be worried I didn't come home.”

  “You'll stay right where you are,” he corrected. “Alicia spent the night at Braun's.”

  It was a swift blow, one Connie obviously wasn't expecting. She looked as though he'd just kicked her puppy, told her Santa didn't exist, and slapped her all at the same time. Her breathing hitched sharply, warning him tears might be incoming, but she shored up the hole and nodded as though on some level, she’d known there was no one to go home for. “Yes, well, Braun got what he wanted, didn't he? He can pass her off to Atticus, or to the care facility, with the assurance that they'll do a better job than I ever did.”

  “He doesn't believe that. Atticus filled me in on the characters in this mess, and some of the events. From my seat on the other side of the fence, your friends are watching your back, Connie. You're not the same woman they know from six months ago, longer depending on who I talk to.” Thane rubbed his forehead. “I don't think they're trying to punish you.”

  She laughed bitterly. “Watching my back? Try stabbing me in the back, Thane. I was doing just fine until Atticus stuck his nose into my business and flipped everything upside down. Now look at me.” She flipped the covers back and slipped out of bed. “The person I've dedicated my life to for over a year has been removed from my care. My friends think I'm incapable of handling myself, and are trying to shove me back into a submissive box. I don't need them to tell me I'm a fucking failure, because I already know!”

  She was starting to piss him off with all this talk of being a failure, Thane thought. He swung his legs off the bed and stretched slowly, then stood as Connie started hunting for her clothes. He rolled his shoulders as he rounded the end of the bed, taking his time. She hadn't noticed he was on the prowl yet, but she would.

  “The assholes just couldn't leave me alone,” Connie was muttering. “I was happy enough the way I was, and now—”

  Thane's hand clamped down on her wrist as she gestured wildly, using it to swing her around. Her thighs bumped into the edge of the mattress and sent her sprawling over the bed, her rounded butt raised. He slapped his palm between her shoulder blades when she cursed him out and tried to straighten, then gave her a swift, stinging crack on her left cheek.

  “It took those assholes hours to track you down in the desert last night. They wouldn't have rearranged their evening to do so if they didn't care.” Enjoying the bounce of firm flesh under his hand, Thane smacked her again. Okay, so maybe he liked the outraged cries she made, too. “Happy enough isn't happy, sugar. It's making the best of what you've been given, and you deserve more than that.” Third strike, and his hand was smarting. “But this, this makes you happy, Con. Not the context, but the action.”

  Connie bucked frantically. “This isn't Avalon, Thane, and it sure isn't a goddamn scene!”

  He grinned and stepped between her legs, his stance wide so his thighs kept hers pinned open. “Very true. This is you and me, finishing what we started on Friday. Now, are you going to behave like the good sub I know you can be, or do I need to dig my restraints out of my toybox?”

  Her buttocks clenched tight. “You're not going to prove anything, Thane. I chose what I wanted to be, I locked the submissive away, and no one has the right to tell me it's the wrong choice. All this bullshit about embracing both parts of myself. It's not as simple as that!”

  He circled each cheek thoughtfully, scraping his nails down over the tender pink flesh his palm had warmed up. “Why isn't it? Ying and yang, sugar. Two halves make a whole.”

  “Not when one half is damaged.”

  “Hold onto the sheets, Connie,” Thane ordered, feeling a wash of pity sweep over him for the pain she was going through. She surprised him, though, by obeying his order almost immediately. He set his hand over her sex, dragging a single finger through her folds and finding her not quite wet. “Hmm. This bit isn't damaged,” he mused, teasing her hole until juices slicked his finger. “In fact, it's working perfectly.”

  “That's not what I—”

  “Hush,” he interrupted smoothly. He edged his legs further apart, pushing hers wider still. “Got a tight grip on those sheets? Yeah, you have. Good girl.” Setting both hands on her ass cheeks, he pulled them apart and perused the tight little asshole hidden away, ignoring her squeaks of protest. “After Evan did what he did, have you ever looked at this, sugar?”

  Her breathing was escalating into anxious pants, he noted. She was beginning to tremble, aware of his scrutiny, afraid of his judgement. Well, she had nothing to worry about, did she? She was exquisite, every part of her, no matter what scars she bore.

  When she didn't answer, turning her face away, he nodded to himself. Using the fingers of one hand to keep her pried open, he stroked a light fingertip over the scarring around her anus and the inside curves of her cheeks. He frowned, trying to imagine how bad the burn had been in such a sensitive area, how much pain she'd suffered through during the healing. “If it gives you peace of mind, Connie, the scarring is minimal.” He dipped his finger into her pussy, drawing a moan from her, then pressed it against her anus.

  The whimper she gave him almost fractured his resolve. Her hands were white-knuckled in the sheets, the material stretched taut. “Thane, you don't understand. Please, don't.”

  “I'm not going to hurt you, Connie. Ju
st relax.” Closing his eyes, he pushed in to just past the first knuckle. Concentrating on what he felt instead of her moans of distress. “Scarred you on the inside,” he murmured. “Lost some elasticity in the muscle. Not insurmountable, but any anal play is going to require careful preparation.” He withdrew slowly, then gave her a slow rub along her rigid spine. “But I'm still not seeing the damaged half of you, Connie. Give me a clue.”

  She went limp. Not the response he was aiming for, but a positive one in his eyes. At least she wasn't taking a swing at him. “I'm going back to being vanilla,” she muttered. “Vanilla is so much easier. Missionary for the rest of my life doesn't sound so bad.”

  “You'd be bored in a week,” he told her, rubbing her shoulders. “Why don't we come to an arrangement, Connie. One that suits us both, pacifies your friends, and gives you and me what we both need?”

  “And what arrangement is going to do all that?” she fired back, shrugging his hands off her shoulders and rolling onto her back.

  Oh, he wished she hadn't done that. Now he was craving the taste of those dusky nipples in his mouth, the weight of her breasts in his palms. She had lovely breasts, full and soft. He shook his head to clear it, then smiled down at her, taking no notice of her suspicious glare. “One where you and I trade places on a regular basis.”

  “What the hell have you been smoking?” she demanded.

  “Don't smoke, don't do drugs, occasionally have a drink or two. I'm not delusional, Connie. You're not the only Switch in Avalon, sugar.” Thane repeated Atticus’s words with a casual shrug. “I figure you need to top someone as much as you need to submit. You've always been either one or the other in a relationship, never a mix of both. So, in private—here or at the club—you'll submit to me. In public, at the club or elsewhere, I will submit to you. If you get comfortable enough with who you are, we can change the parameters of the agreement to encompass that.”

  Baffled gray eyes blinked up at him. “You…”

  “Switch,” Thane confirmed, amused. “Same as you, only I'm in tune with myself. Public displays of submissions don't stress me out, so you can top me all night long in front of all and sundry.”

  “Dominant and submissive,” she said slowly. The wheels were turning in her head, trying to figure out whether he was messing with her, or worse, conning her into something she couldn't get free of in a hurry. “Huh. You hid that well.”

  He sat beside her on the bed and picked up her hand, toying with her fingers. “Get out of that mindset, sugar. It's not about hiding who you are. Everyone at Avalon assumes I'm dominant, and that's fine. Dominant is my primary nature. But if anyone bothered to ask, I'd tell them that I'm a Switch. I've had a few issues with members in other clubs not understanding the concept, but Avalon has a different atmosphere completely.”

  When the glare faded, Thane hoped she was beginning to understand. The fight she was throwing herself into was just exhausting, in his opinion. From all accounts, Connie was purported to be a woman who tackled things head-on for other people, using her psychologist skills to help and guide, but when it came to herself, she floundered.

  “So, we'd be equal?”

  Clever girl. Yes, that would be important to her, wouldn't it? It wasn't just about handing over control, but her perceived fear that she would be seen as less in the eyes of the Masters. In the eyes of her family. “It would be an exchange, yes. You'd get the time to express yourself as both Dominant and submissive, and so would I. Since the accident, I've not had many opportunities to submit, and I miss it.”

  “You miss being submissive,” she repeated dubiously. “Why?”

  Thane stretched out beside her, holding her hand on his stomach as he contemplated the shadows on the ceiling. How the hell did he have cobwebs up there already? “For me, dominance isn't solely about sex, Connie. It's…an opportunity. Whenever I play with someone, it's like taking someone blindfolded through a maze with only my hands and voice as a guide. Taking nerves and anxiety, those little flutters of fear, and shaping them into something beautiful. You're a Domme, sugar; you know how beautiful trust is when it's offered freely.”

  Her fingers flexed in his. “There's no other feeling like it in the world.”

  “Exactly. But holding that trust safe all the time? It can start to feel like a burden. Constantly guiding and shaping all those different emotions for different people, it drags you down. Especially when you're not in a committed dynamic. When I submit, I get to be the one who has the world stripped away for a little while. I get to wear the blindfold and be steered through the maze. My problems become someone else's for a few hours, and when the blindfold is ripped off, I'm ready to be the strong one again.”

  “I never thought of it that way. Being submissive to Evan was what I thought I was meant to be. Eighteen months of being berated and mistreated, taught to be a dog who bided by the boot. When he tried to kill me that night, he didn't succeed in killing me, but he came damn close to severing the submissive part of me. Clinging by a thread,” she whispered dully, then cleared her throat. “Maybe if I hadn't had the dominance to fall back on, I'd have lost all of me. The Domme is…she's confident and assertive, she doesn't take shit from anyone. She saved me, and ten years of being her gave the submissive chance to heal.”

  “You know it's okay to be scared, sugar.”

  “For anyone else, sure. It's a natural reaction to the unknown. But me…people rely on me to stand up so they can lean on me. At Avalon, at work, at home. Everywhere, all the time. Even when I feel my knees start to buckle under the weight, I don't give myself any option but to force them to bear it. Being scared is terrifying.” Connie's sigh was weary as she let her head roll toward him. “If we do this, I don't want anal.”

  “Rephrase that,” he suggested, thrilled she'd opened up to him. “You're terrified of anal. You've set hard limits for blood play, pet play, watersports, and blindfolds because of what Evan put you through. Yet the one kink he used to cause you unimaginable pain, you haven't set a limit on. Think about that. Why?”

  “I don't know.”

  “You do, you just don't want to acknowledge it yet. I've never been abused, I've never had someone who I've given control to use it as a weapon against me. My guess is anal play is only the shallow end of the pool. It's frightening because you associate it with pain. The psychologist in you wants you to tackle the issue, right? That rational side of your brain understands what the rest of it can't—until you face it, you can't overcome it or the circumstances that brought it into being. It won't let you put a limit on it because it's the key.”

  Silence. Thick, tense silence.

  As it dragged on, Thane wondered if he should introduce a different subject. Something less…tongue-tying. But something told him to keep quiet, to let the silence play out. Connie wasn't vehemently denying anything he'd said, and she wasn't ripping him a new asshole, which had to be a positive sign. He couldn't help but ponder what doors he'd slammed shut…and which would open.

  “I'm supposed to be the psychologist,” she muttered eventually.

  Deciding the ceiling was boring now, he rolled on top of her. Oh yeah, this view was much better. Should've taken his shirt off first, he chastised himself. Hell, his pants too. That way, he'd have all that soft, warm, naked flesh pressed against his in all the right places. “I had a difficult job for a lot of years, Connie. Military, classified,” he said apologetically. “Part of my job was to find all the pieces, the tiny shards, and build them into a picture. It revolved around understanding people. How they tick, what they do, what drives them. What scares them. How they react.”

  “Yeah, well, I bet you were good at your job.”

  Too damn good.

  God, he loved her eyes. The shades of gray altered fractionally depending on her mood—lightening, darkening, changing depth and tone. The ultimate mood rings, spotlighted in plain view. Right now, she was disturbed by his insight, and aroused by the bulge of his cock rubbing against her exposed pussy. “
I could be modest and say I was adequate, but that wouldn't make you swoon.” He bent his head and kissed the hollow of her throat. “I was one of the best. Top of my field.”

  “Elite, huh?” She laughed, lifting her hand to his cheek. “I can see you being elite, Thane. God knows you've got me summed up. There's no easy way to admit it, but you're right. It's not a hard limit, because I understand it's a problem. But I'm not ready to tackle it yet.”

  “Okay. I'm liking this arrangement already.” Pleasing himself, Thane nuzzled at her throat, trailing his lips up and over her jaw until he found her mouth. Such a pretty mouth. Catching a hint of mint on her breath, he smiled. “Found my toothbrush, did you?”

  She smirked. “Well, I didn't rule out kissing a sexy guy after a crappy day. Oral hygiene is very important for kissing, as any self-respecting Dominant is aware. I'll buy you a new one.”

  “Considering where my mouth is going to be soon, I think you have better things to worry about than a new tooth brush, sugar.”

  One long, slow kiss was enough to turn a craving into an addiction. Humming with delight, Thane delved deeper, enjoying the taste of her lips, the mint of his toothpaste. Her breath caught, giving him access to her tongue. He kissed her as though it was a long-forgotten art, coaxing moans from her throat. He almost purred when her hips rose, grinding her pussy into his groin.

  If he didn't stop, he'd end up stripping and claiming her, which wasn't in his plans just now.

  He eased back, pleased when she followed his mouth. Those fabulous eyes were soft and dazed.

  Was it too much to hope they'd turned a corner?

  *

  “We could stay at your place.” Trying to act nonchalantly, Connie threw the suggestion at Thane for the fifth time since they'd left his house. “Nobody goes to the club on a Sunday. We can turn around, go back to yours, and watch a movie. Two movies,” she added desperately as he indicated to turn down the road to Avalon. “Blowjob and a movie. Sex during the second one.”