“And…the third?” she asked. “Your third submissive?”
“That,” he said with traces of melancholy in his smile, “was a tough one for me. I think it was the closest I've ever come to emotional attachment…”
An unexpected pang of jealousy struck her suddenly, sharply and fiercely right in the heart. Unlike those silly women who flirted with him at the party on Friday night, this anonymous woman had captured his heart. Although these were the things that Maxine didn’t want to hear, she simultaneously needed to know. And he wasn’t holding back. She just wished she had a few relationships of her own at that moment to dangle in front of his nose. “You were in love with her?”
“Not quite, but we shared some beautiful times together,” he said. “I liked her. But she decided that she wasn’t so fond of Manhattan and left after we’d been seeing each other for almost a year. I heard through the grapevine that has become Facebook that she got pregnant and got married six months later to some guy wherever she’d found her home. But, little one…” he stopped and lifted her chin “…that also brought me to you…and we might not be here right now if she had stayed. So you should be grateful for her departure.”
“So you're not just looking for a sexual partner?” She had to ask—had to know. His logic in this whole thing was so disjointed that she couldn't seem to follow along just yet, and Maxine deserved to have a keen understanding of what he expected from her.
“No, not just sex, Maxine,” he said, touching his nose to hers. “I’m monogamous and jealous. And I can even admit to harboring a bit of envy over Ben right now because he is a man, and you do reside with him.”
“He’s gay!” she wailed through her laughter over the hilarity of his revelation.
“In my mind, I realize this, but on the surface, he’s still a man who shares an apartment with you…”
“Stop it. Right now. You’ll learn to love him and to play nice in the sandbox.”
“Don’t get me wrong—I also think he’s an amazing friend to you, and I think he cares about you unconditionally. Most people aren’t lucky enough to have someone like that in their lives. I never did…”
“I didn’t either, until I met Ben,” she said. “But enough of me—back to your women. Where did you meet them?”
Her persistence prompted a laugh, quick and booming throughout the wide room. “Well, little one, none of them came into my life quite like you did,” he teased. “You'd be both shocked and embarrassed if you only knew. There are many sordid places in this city to find what I crave.”
“You'll take me to one of those places?” she asked out of pure wonder. Of course, she didn't want to play there necessarily, but it might have been fun to check out the seedy side of New York for one evening.
With a grimace, he took another sip of wine. “Oh, fuck no! Not my virginal little Maxine…” he exclaimed and moved closer to pull her into his lap. Tickling his nose against hers, he murmured, “You amuse me. Your innocence is quite refreshing.”
“Likewise, you intrigue me, Drew…”
“Oh, little one,” he said, his voice boiling with pain and apology. If she only knew how grim his world truly was.
No, he couldn’t think about that now, and he closed his eyes to ward off the memories. Echoes of the screaming and wailing pecked at the back corners of his consciousness. He could even feel and smell his own wet diaper. No, Daddy…leave Molly alone!
And then he forced his eyes to open, and caught Maxine’s concerned gaze.
A sadness, so evident in his sudden shift in demeanor, captured Maxine's full attention. Slowly, as Drew revealed himself, she was coming to understand that there were moments when his self-deprecation consumed him; hence, he constructed walls of granite around himself to hold his terrors at bay. However, he allowed that façade to crack for a fleeting moment under Maxine’s watch.
Her heart stopped as he froze with mortification. However, she forced herself to remain silent. She still couldn’t ask him about those memories that he refused to discuss. “Drew?” Deep within her conscience, she knew she didn't want to flee his complex life just yet.
“Maxine, I...”
She refused to waver, and held on to him tightly. “Drew, it’s only me here.”
“I need to tell you now…” was all he said.
Pressing her forehead to his, she said, “Only if you can manage, Drew. We’re navigating by trust. Remember?”
He pulled her toward his chest simply because he still couldn't look at her as he faced his own greatest nightmare. He needed more time—to think and to explain—while he tended to his wound that had been ripped wide open just when he thought it might begin to heal.
“I was kidnapped from the hospital as a newborn…”
That, Maxine knew, but hearing the words fall from Drew's lips left her locked inside her inability to conjure any sentiments that might soothe him. Maxine struggled to look up into his eyes, but his grip held her still with her head resting against the thunder of his heartbeat. He was so very scared, yet bravery surpassed all of his fears as the words began to fall from his trembling lips.
“I was discovered—and returned when I was five. The years in between were…”
“You don’t have to go on, Drew.”
While her assurance brimmed with sincerity, he chose to ignore her.
“It was a media circus for the day, apparently, but nothing like it is now with the Internet and news at your fingertips,” he continued. “And security wasn’t as prevalent back in 1981. My mother gave birth to me at the top hospital in the city. Celebrities and dignitaries were patients. Yet that didn’t stop a man posing as a doctor in a pair of stolen scrubs from walking away with me in the middle of the night…down some back stairway and into the darkness…”
“They wanted a ransom?” Maxine asked, searching for a reason.
“A ransom was never sought. My…” He broke off suddenly and eased Maxine from his lap. Across the room, he took off and began to pace before the vast wall of windows that overlooked the rough waters of the river. Although Maxine was quick to follow, she took a seat on one of the wide sills and settled down to just listen. “None of this should be mine right now…not one single bit of it. I shouldn’t be here…”
“Drew, please, stop,” she begged him. “This house—your home here—is your birthright. You shouldn’t think that way.”
“Not when others suffered, too, Maxine,” he said, stopping and turning toward the view, catching his desolate expression in the shiny glass pane. “What good is all this money when so many have suffered?”
“You give back, though,” she attempted to convince him. “I know this. You do your annual benefit for…”
“For my mother’s foundation for missing children,” he finished her sentence. “And what good does that do, Maxine? I’m not out on the streets trying to find them. Sometimes I feel like I’m just throwing money at a problem that won’t go away.”
“Drew, you’re just arguing with me now,” she said. “There was another baby, you said. Tell me…”
“My big sister.”
“You…had a sister?”
“In that house, I did—in that house where I was hidden for five years,” he whispered.
“Drew…she…where is she right now?”
“Another day…” Maxine watched as his hand formed a fist, and he stopped himself from pounding it against the window. “Can’t go there right now…”
Desperation claimed her soul, but she couldn’t just get up and force him to look at her or to allow her to touch him.
“In one respect, I was lucky that it happened when it did,” he said. “When…when I was returned to my birth parents—Margaret and Declan McKenzie—the police kept it quiet. There was no Google or cable news following us around, understand. Hell, there weren’t even Amber Alerts back then. My mother and father had sheltered me at home for a year before they told the press. When they released the news of my return, they did it in the middle of s
ummer—the week of the Fourth of July because the media is all but dead that week. The story disappeared just as quickly as it made headlines. And with time, curiosity waned—until I started my career in theater.”
His resilience astounded Maxine, but she also knew from her troubles that strength could only carry a person so far. Pain continued to linger just beneath the surface. While she was certain that he received top-notch care upon his return home, Drew still carried with him the demons of the first five years of his life. Survivor’s guilt, perhaps.
“The press seems to have respected your privacy to some extent…”
“That’s because Jillian McGee is the best fucking publicist ever,” he was quick to note. “She’s turned down People Magazine and walked out right behind me on an Associated Press reporter who wanted to know too much.”
“Drew, what can I do here?” she asked him.
“Maxine, there are things that only my family know,” he said. “And there are things I haven’t even told them.”
“I know you’ve said that I’m impatient, but I will wait for you to feel comfortable enough to tell me.”
Those sentiments, so sweet and genuine against the ringing anger in his ears, prompted him to turn around very slowly. At that moment, he could see that Maxine was struggling not to cry. How he loathed himself for hurting her…again.
“I am so sorry, little one…”
“Don’t do that, Drew,” she finally stood up and erased the gaping space between them. “I won’t settle for that. You have nothing to apologize—to me or to anyone—over this.”
He felt as if he’d been waiting his entire life for that one single moment, and he wished he could go back and hit replay just to hear her words again. Lost in her tenderness, he welcomed her arms around his waist, and that time, he caught her emerald eyes and held them with his own chilly blue stare, confident that she could melt a glacier away with her adoring ways.
“You are beautiful—outside and in, Maxine Kirk,” he said. “One day, I’ll convince you of that…”
And one day, I hope you’ll let yourself lean on me, she thought.
“May I ask you something?”
His intake of breath was audible in the quietude of that vast room. Alone in that big, sometimes ugly, world, it was just the two of them.
“Go…go ahead…”
“Does this have any reason to do with your…with BDSM?”
“God, you just opened a can of worms,” he laughed, relieved over her quandary. “Back to the couch. Let’s talk some more…”
Clearly, he was finished with their discussion on his childhood. Tabled for later, the atrocities that Maxine could only guess that he faced would remain unspoken for another day. Even his slight revelation, however, left her sated. He’d placed that all-empowering trust in her, and for that, Maxine was so very proud of him. Now though…she knew she had her own sad story to tell. She owed him that and more, but she could only live one single day at a time.
Tucking her under his arm, he relaxed against the corner of the couch and placed a throw pillow behind her head.
“I don't want that,” she said and tossed it to the floor before turning around to rest her head against his chest. “I much prefer to use you…”
“Oh, that works both ways, little one…” he teased. “Now…do you know why I went into acting? The real reason? Not some Wikipedia bullshit that Jillian posted up there…”
“Jillian wrote your bio?”
“Of course she did! It’s the ultimate publicity tool,” he said. “You’ll learn. You’ve much to learn…”
“Anytime you'd like to stop reminding me of the ten year age gap between us and talk to me, I'm ready, Drew…”
“Sassypants, you are…” he hissed playfully. “Anyway...I got into acting in high school because I could be someone else. I could channel my anger and pain into another person—into someone that I couldn’t hurt back in retaliation.”
“But you do enjoy inflicting pain upon others,” Maxine said. “Or so you’ve warned me…”
“Patience, Maxine, I'm getting to that.” He cleared his throat and continued on. “It's really all about role playing, and the two do tie in together. But my fascination with BDSM didn't start until I got to college…”
“Blame Julliard for everything, Drew…” she retorted. “So what happened that led you to the—ahem—dark side?”
“We were working on a production of Dangerous Liaisons. My co-star was…Maxine, are you sure you want to hear all of this?”
“Every last detail, Kind Sir.” At least he was smiling again.
“You’re familiar with the movie, if not the play, I’m assuming?”
“Sure am.”
Drew felt a bit uncomfortable telling Maxine about his previous sexual escapades, but he knew she'd badger the shit out of him until he confessed. “My co-star in the play,” he continued. “Let's just say that we were both a little bit…excited…after rehearsals one evening.”
“Horny…” Maxine corrected him. “You were in college. I know how Ben was. That’s not excitement, Drew…”
“OK, horny…!” he agreed. This little unknowing vixen was sharp as a tack, and he adored her increasingly with every passing second. “Now, she was paying her way through Julliard with a scholarship…and on the side with a turn as a submissive at one of the dungeons for hire over on the West Side Highway. It used to be quite sinister over there, in that back-alley sort of sense.”
“Boring….don’t need to know the history of the city. Get to the good parts, Kind Sir.” Stretching out, Maxine feigned a yawn. “So she invited you for a show?”
“No, she invited me back to her dorm room and begged me to spank her,” he reminisced.
“And you liked it…” Maxine said.
“I did. But I realized immediately that I was turned on by the control more so than exacting pain,” he explained. “Again, I was essentially playing yet another role…”
“So you’re acting?” Maxine asked in her attempt to understand his motives. “Even with me?”
“Perhaps,” his eyes now toyed with her. “At least sexually. And you like it…”
“Touché, Kind Sir…” she murmured. Maxine could feel her lips plump as she waited with desperate hope for just one little kiss. “But is it really as simple as parlaying your theatrical skills on to your sex life?”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “That first night stirred my curiosities. I was sort of at the same point you’re at right now. Could I? Should I? Do I dare…?”
He could indeed read her mind, and sometimes that terrified Maxine.
“So what led you to the dark side?” Maxine smirked.
“There was an exquisite pleasure—both physically and psychologically—in what I was doing,” he attempted to explain.
It was so difficult for Drew to verbalize his departure from the so-called normal world into the lifestyle that he came to embrace. He felt as if one had to experience the scene for herself to understand, and he hoped that Maxine would share in his indulgence in kink as he further exposed her to his brand of romance. However, he had to try to offer up his personal rationale on the subject.
“After I started playing around with BDSM, I realized that all I had been doing before that was merely fucking. Yes, the domination and the control was so new and so enthralling to me…but it’s this level of trust that you build with your partner that deepens everything—in real time and in the bedroom,” he continued. “Standard relationships lack that strength—that union—that Dominants and submissives often share with each other in long-term relationships. Again, there are people who merely just want to play. But when you’re looking for something deeper, the emotions you build as you explore each other’s fantasies together can be earth-shattering.”
“OK, I think I’m starting to get it now…”
“Not quite yet, but hopefully, you will soon.”
As he leaned closer, he took both her glass and his and placed them
on the coffee table. Maxine’s eyelids fluttered closed as his lips touched hers yet again, this time with a delicate caress that coaxed her mouth to open, and she succumbed to his gentle push of his fingers against her shoulders. The tickling kisses he trailed over her eyes, cheeks and neck incited yet another wave of yearning within her. Boldly, she allowed her fingers to creep through his hair.
Guttural was his groan against her ear as he pressed even closer, nearly covering her with his entire body. She could hear his swallow and the sluggish intake of his breath...just as his fingers played at the hem of her shirt, teasing as they crawled higher before stopping at the waistband of her pants.
Maxine hoped he wouldn't notice her tension, but she refused to open her eyes to see his reaction. Holding her breath, she awaited his next move, wondering where his hands would roam.
However, she quickly realized it wasn't the work of those skillful hands that she had to worry about. It was his mouth, lapping and nipping at the base of her neck, tickling a soft moan from her lips in their travels.
“Drew,” she breathed his name. “Please…”
“Oh, little one,” his voice was so very tender as he kissed her ear, “We have to stop...”
Slowly, Maxine opened her eyes, only to watch him pull away once more. Digging his fingers into his hairline, he shook his head, then turned to face away from her.
“Drew?” she managed, still lounging back on the pillows. “Drew, what is it? Are you OK?”
Bewilderment shadowed his face once he finally turned to look her in the eyes. Maxine wasn't sure if he was smiling or angry.
“You have no idea, do you?” he asked suddenly.
“What do you mean?” she tried to smile herself to ease this awkward moment.
“How intense this all is for me...” he confided. “How new it all is with you...”
“Really?” she asked, unable to mask her incredulity over his claim.
“Maxine, I...” he attempted to explain, but couldn't find his words. “I’ve never felt so much so fast in my life. And this is scaring me.”
Fuck, Mack. You just said too much.
WEAKENED: The Manhattan Bound Series Book One Page 18
