by L E Royal
“If you don’t want to; if this is because of your ex or Mal…”
Kristina’s eyes were set hard, and she was beautiful, even at the end. Parker could still see past the mask, and Kristina looked haunted.
“This is because of me, because of who I am and the kind of life I want to live.”
The blow landed with a finality that stole Parker’s breath.
“A life without me.”
She was already nodding, accepting the words, letting them sink into her psyche, propel her forward until she was unbuckling her seat belt and throwing open the door.
Tears dripped pitifully down her cheeks. God, how did I let myself want this? She didn’t know herself as she rose from the car. She didn’t know the woman who was happy to be divorced, who enjoyed being tied up and called a good girl, the woman who fell in love with someone half her age and ached down to her bones to run headlong into another forever with her. She was practical Parker, Parker who had stayed, Parker whose life fit her mold, right up until she was wide-awake Parker, madly in love with the most emotionally unavailable woman she had ever met. She didn’t know which was real.
“Goodbye, Kristina.”
She couldn’t turn back. She didn’t trust herself to look at her, not to give in and round the car and make all of this go away. Part of her thought she could. Kristina had taught her about life, love, and she had taught her sex could be a weapon. She could drop her bag and crawl across the console, throw the match on the gasoline, and use that weapon one more time.
“I never meant to fall in love with you.”
Parker spun around. Her heart beat hard and then it stopped. Kristina fell in love with me. It should be everything she’d ever wanted to hear, but now, staring down the end, it only hurt more.
Kristina’s eyes were on hers, and Parker promised herself just three seconds, three more seconds to look at her, to let those words wash over her and through her and raise her high and drown her deeper. Kristina swallowed, and the countdown was done.
“Goodbye, Parker.”
Twin tears spilled down her tan cheeks, and Parker couldn’t look anymore.
Turning back to her driveway and starting down it in long determined steps, she heard the squeal of tires on the street. Then Kristina was gone.
Chapter Seventeen
THE COMMUNITY CENTER loomed up ahead, and Marion bumped her hip softly.
“So have you heard from her at all?”
Parker shot her a look. It had been weeks, almost a month since that morning outside her house, almost a month of deafening radio silence.
“No, and I’m not going to. That’s just how it is…”
She felt Marion’s eyes on her, and she ignored them, carrying on at their glacial pace down the street, roped into baby class with her best friend while LiLing had to work.
“Parker, you cried more over her than you ever did over Amanda, more than I’ve ever seen you.”
Something inside her that had been coiled tight since the first mention of…her broke.
“Well, you weren’t supposed to see any of it, but you practically broke in so…”
She didn’t mean to snap, but she didn’t want to talk about it, or think about it, not anymore.
“Hey.”
Marion stopped abruptly and dragged her to a halt by the elbow, forcing the pedestrians behind them to swerve to avoid hitting them. The spring sun was pleasant on her cheeks, the back of her neck beneath her ponytail. The workout pants she wore were tighter than they might have been pre-her, the shirt a little more revealing, the thin straps of her sports bra crisscrossed over her half-bare back. Kristina was gone, but the changes she had brokered lingered.
“I’m worried about you.” Marion’s eyes bored into her. “Sure, you’re not crying anymore, and you’re not online reading those horrific forum board things anymore, but you’re…like a cyborg.”
Parker spun on her heel and redoubled her pace toward the doors to the building, leaving her friend to waddle to catch up.
“P…Parker…Parker Elise, so help me, if I have this baby early while running after you…”
She skidded to another stop, huffing out a breath.
“Do you want me to apologize because I’m not broken up over this?” I am broken up over it. There were a hundred tiny, sharp pieces inside her chest that twisted and tore and poked at her at least five times a day still, but dwelling on them didn’t serve her at all.
“I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” Marion was puffing, catching her breath, and Parker couldn’t help but feel guilty.
“You know I love you. It’s just so unlike you. You’re all work and this strange efficiency and new confidence and—”
Parker raised her eyebrows. “Seriously, M, put down the shovel.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Her best friend pressed a hand to her brow. “These third trimester hormones are just… My brain and mouth aren’t on speaking terms.” She took a deep breath and seemed to clear her head. “Are you happy?”
Parker sighed.
“We’re going to be late.” Couples were passing them now, heading through the doors.
“Parker…”
Marion grabbed her hand, keeping her from turning and following them.
“No… But I will be.” Parker squeezed the fingers in her own with all the conviction she could muster. “Now come on, Lily’s going to be pissed if we don’t record the entire class this time.”
Marion’s eyes held hers for a few seconds longer, and thankfully, she seemed to relent.
“It’s not like we haven’t already been through this once with Roland… I get it, she’s an over-preparer, but if I have to do another role-play I swear to—”
Parker thanked the man holding the door for them loudly enough to cut off her ranting, and pushed her along by the shoulders toward the meeting room where the class would be held.
Twenty minutes later Marion was perched on a blue rubber ball, Parker’s hands on her shoulders while they were supposed to be role-playing positive encouragement techniques.
“You turned on the recorder, right… For Lily?”
Parker patted her shoulder, eyes moving through the room, from the obnoxious instructor to couple after couple, most of them a man and a woman, though she was pleased to spot two men and another all-woman duo too.
“Yes. Keep breathing; you’re doing great. The pain is temporary, and you survived this once already, though your lady bits will never be the same, you’re creating new life, etcetera.”
Marion laughed long and loud, earning them a glare from the instructor, before they both dipped their heads.
“Thank you for doing this.”
There was softness in Marion’s voice she hadn’t expected. There had been a distance between them since things ended with her, and Parker knew she was the one who had put it there.
“Of course, M. How could I not want to do this with you? I’m so excited for you guys. You know that, right?”
Marion nodded so quickly she almost unbalanced herself on the ball, her prominent stomach pushing her center of gravity off. Parker held her steady, smiling down at the grateful look she received in thanks.
“It’s just—I know once upon a time you really wanted all this. The wife and the kids and…” Her pity turned to curiosity, and Parker preferred it. “Do you still?”
Do I?
“I think…”
The instructor passed by and she mumbled a few encouragements, and Marion breathed emphatically, halfway to flipping the woman the bird after she passed before Parker could slap her hand down.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
Marion bounced lightly on her ball. Tired of hovering behind her, Parker plopped down on the mat beside her, holding her ankle in a show of faux support.
“I think more than I actually wanted all that, I just wanted a life that fit, that was expected and known. Like with Amanda, I was just so desperate to be…”
She waved her hands,
and Marion nodded her understanding without her having to find the elusive word, urging her on.
“I just set myself on this path, and it was only after clinging to it so hard, then losing it all that I realized how poorly it fit me. I wanted the wife and the kids and the big house, sure, but I think what I really wanted was just to belong, for things to feel permanent.” She swallowed and had to look away, glancing around the room instead of looking into those brown eyes she knew would see her soul.
“Now, after everything, I think maybe it’s less important for everything to fit neatly into that mold than it is just to find that connection, find someone who makes me the best version of myself, and celebrates me for what I am instead of being so hung up on this idea of perfect that really wouldn’t have been, if Amanda and I had done it.”
She flicked her gaze back to Marion’s face, her wariness at what she might find there melting at the tears in her best friend’s eyes.
“Sorry, sorry… It’s the hormones.” Marion dabbed her eyes with a sleeve. “You really loved her.”
This time it wasn’t a question. Parker had. Somewhere amongst it all, the thrill of it, and the impossibility, the unconventionality, they had hit a rhythm and the beat was easy, and Parker had danced, totally unapologetically herself, for the first time in her life.
“I did.”
She swallowed the tears in her throat.
“Can’t you call her?”
The question was tentative, careful now as it hadn’t been the millions of times it had been asked over the last month.
Parker sighed out a breath.
“She doesn’t want a relationship, and as much as I want to pretend I could handle going back to just…our arrangement.” She paused to glance warily around the room, relieved no one seemed to be listening. “I can’t. We can’t uncross that line, and I can’t make her be in a relationship she doesn’t want… I don’t want to.”
She picked at a loose thread on Marion’s super stretchy yoga pants.
“I deserve better than someone who doesn’t want to be with me, really be with me, all of me. She taught me that.” The last part was a sad admission, and a fresh wave of tears welled up in Marion’s eyes, a few falling down her cheeks before she swiped at them and apologized again. Parker patted her calf, surprised by the strength in her own voice.
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t. None of it was okay. She missed Kristina terribly, horribly, yet now she was herself, the self she had lost for so many years, and she clung to that like a life raft.
“What are you going to do?”
She swallowed hard, sucking in a breath and raising her chin ever so slightly, offering a smile she hoped would reassure them both.
“I’m going to get on with my life.”
MISS BRENNA CARL was everything she had expected Kristina to be, a stern brunette about her age, who dressed a little too ostentatiously and was forward with her in a way that made Parker uncomfortable.
Despite Marion’s watchful glances and gentle disagreement, she had decided to dip her toes back into the world of kink one more time, to see what she might find there. Kristina was exactly as unique as Parker had known she would be, and judging by her meeting with Miss Carl, kink was not going to save her, or even be for her, a second time.
“So you’re an experienced submissive?”
Miss Carl’s blue eyes studied her, shrewd and hungry, and Parker lifted her chin and rose under the scrutiny where she once would have wilted.
“I had one ten-month relationship of that nature, yes.”
Amusement creased the corner of Miss Carl’s lips.
“Any hard limits?”
With Kristina there had never really been hard limits; there had been trust and mutual attraction that they had built something beautiful and functional on so effortlessly.
“Why don’t we talk about your kinks?”
Miss Carl’s eyes turned to blue fire at her defiance.
“Tell me about yourself then?” she offered instead. “Why did your last relationship end? What are you looking for here?”
At least she referred to it as a relationship. Parker couldn’t help but make a note that was at least one step up from Kristina, even if everything else set her teeth on edge.
“My last relationship ended because we were no longer compatible.” The words tumbled out like they were read from a script. Sure, trust and honesty were important in a relationship like this, but somehow, she didn’t want to bare her soul to this woman. Honestly, she didn’t want to bare her anything right now and wasn’t sure she ever would.
“I’m an English professor at a local school, so discretion is important. I’m not looking to mix my personal life and my sex life.” She arched an eyebrow until Miss Carl nodded, still watching her, a look on her face Parker struggled to decipher.
“After going through a difficult period in my life I met K… my previous—” Girlfriend? Lover? Dominant? “—partner, and through exploring this I regained a lot of my sense of self and my confidence.” She wet her dry lips and forced herself to be brave. It was always awkward at first. She needed to give things a chance. “I’m hoping to find someone to continue that exploration with.”
Brenna rose to her feet and left the room abruptly. She was gone just long enough that Parker started to wonder what she had said and if she was coming back.
When she returned, a decanter of something clasped in one hand and two crystal glasses in the other, her eyes were two shades darker.
“Call me presumptuous, but sounds like the occasion calls for a drink. I think we’ll do just fine together, Parker.”
Her name sounded wrong from Brenna’s mouth, too high, too nasally, but she forced a smile onto her face and accepted the glass of whiskey… It was three o’clock in the afternoon and she was driving home. Kristina would never be so careless with her. The thought was enough to encourage a hearty sip down her throat. It burned pleasantly, taking the memory of Kristina with it.
“I’d like to see you, Parker.”
Her eyes snapped up to Brenna’s face, and just as she opened her mouth to ask what she meant, Brenna crooked an index finger.
“Stand up and take off your dress. You’re a beautiful woman.”
The compliment was like an afterthought; it felt like fan-service, a way to ensure she got what she wanted. Parker stood anyway. She set her drink on the coffee table between them and met those blue eyes as she lifted the hem of her dress slowly, keeping the table between them.
Her hair tickled as it fell down around her bare shoulders, and she was glad for the soft lilac lingerie she had chosen, not for Brenna, but for herself. Brenna purred appreciatively as she ran her hands down her waist, over the flat plane of her stomach that was tight now, toned, her body in the best condition it had seen in the last fifteen years.
“Turn around.”
She spun slowly, looking back over her shoulder to watch greedy blue eyes trail up the back of her legs, lingering on her backside before they ascended higher still and caught her gaze.
“When we play together—” The words were deliberately slow. Maybe it was supposed to be sexy? It was just awkward, annoying, having to hold Brenna’s gaze while she drawled them out. “—I’d like you to call me Mommy.”
A snort of laughter escaped without her permission. Brenna crossed the room slowly, still searching for eye contact while Parker kept the tips of her fingers pressed to her mouth, her cheeks burning. She couldn’t call her that.
“Do you want to be spanked, little girl?”
God, that turned her stomach, and not in a good way.
“I, uh.” Her heart beat faster as Brenna stepped into her space to take her wrist and tug her fingers away from her mouth. It wasn’t the rush of anticipation, excitement, Kristina had always bought. It was a frantic nervousness, a shyness, disbelief at the situation, and embarrassment at needing to find a way out of it.
“Come sit on Mommy’s lap, and we’ll talk about y
our poor behavior.”
Brenna was deep in character already, and Parker dug in her heels and she was dragged back to the sofa.
“Actually, I, uh…”
“Mommy didn’t ask you to speak.”
Brenna’s blue eyes were on her brown ones, and this was spiraling too fast.
“Okay… Red or consider this me safe wording.”
Brenna paused, though the vise grip on her wrist didn’t loosen like it was supposed to, the scene didn’t stop completely like it should, and Parker felt the first flutters of fear in her stomach.
“In my usual arrangements, when the sub safe words, which is rarely, I assess the scene and decide if we should continue.”
Parker tried to yank her hand away again, but Brenna held fast.
“That’s not going to work for me.”
“Why?”
Brenna stepped into her space, and she wished for her dress, wished for a way through this and around this. How the hell had she ever thought anyone else could be like Kristina to her?
“Because for me, all this hinges on trust, and if I don’t trust you to respect my limits, then it’s not going to work. I’m sorry.”
She tacked on the apology as an afterthought, finally tugging her wrist free, the outline of four fingers there in angry red.
“So you had one of those new-age Dominants, I’m guessing?”
Parker was already putting on her dress.
“Don’t go, Parker, please… I can take you to new heights. Show you how the real community works.”
She yanked the fabric over her head and struggled it down over her torso.
“Thank you, but I really don’t think—”
Brenna cut her off. “You were right, trust is important, but what you need to learn is to trust me to make the right calls for you… To know when to push you.”
It was all wrong.
“Sit down and we’ll have another drink and we can talk more. I can help you really understand, Parker.”
Alarm bells were blaring in her head, and she snatched her purse from the table. She left the room and headed back down the hall she had entered by, praying the front door was unlocked. Mercifully it was, and with it flung open, one foot on the stoop, the fear subsided enough for her to turn and face the woman who had followed her out.
