“Hey.” With a soft hand, she pulls my face to meet hers. “I’ll talk to her. I’m sure it’ll be okay when I explain. At least I’ll do my best.” She smiles at me. “Have faith, sweetie.” Then she drops a soft little kiss on my forehead. Next thing I know, my arms are wrapped tight around her waist and I’m sobbing into her lap as she strokes my hair.
I feel Clint’s firm hand on my back. “We’re all going to make it through this, Steffen. I don’t know how, but we will, I promise. We’ve got to stick together.”
“Stuck like glue,” I choke out.
Trish laughs. “Yep! Stuck like glue.”
After they leave, I send Sheila a text.
Baby, please, I need to talk to you.
What I get back is short and sweet.
Don’t text me again. Leave me alone. Stay away from me.
I send back another attempt.
Please, you just don’t understand. We need to talk.
The next text is a valid question with a complicated answer.
Are you married?
I have to tell her sometime. Now would probably be a good time to be honest.
Legally, yes.
I wait for her next text, and it’s the question that’s the most important.
Why didn’t you tell me you were married?
I figure I should probably tell her the truth.
I forgot.
But her next text tears my heart right out of my chest.
And how long would it take you to forget me? I think you’re about to find out.
A tear rolls down my cheek as I type with shaking fingers.
A million years. I wait, then try again. Sheila, please talk to me. Please? I can explain. Still nothing. You know how I feel about you. Please?
Twenty minutes later, I stop staring at my phone and lay it face down on the nightstand, then crawl into the bed and just lie there, staring at the ceiling. I don’t know what else to do.
Chapter Nine
Trish calls me several times a day and assures me that, even though Sheila has vowed never to speak to me again, she’s still working to get that to change. After two weeks, I’m starting to lose hope completely.
And then the bottom completely drops out. I stop by the club to pick up my things because I just don’t have the heart to go back in, and I really don’t want to work with another sub. When I get there, Dave meets me in the hallway before I can even get all the way into the building. “Steffen, we need to talk.”
“I’ve just come to clean out my locker,” I say as I try to press past him. Then I catch the look on his face. “What?” I don’t like what I see, and I push on past.
“Steffen! Steffen, please! Wait! Steffen . . .”
It’s too late. I step into the big room and my eyes hit the one thing I never wanted to see.
It’s Lord Algernon, this crazy-ass Dominant that I’ve pushed to have removed from the membership about a dozen times. He’s working with a sub who’s strapped to a spanking horse, and he’s working her over, the chain on her nipple clamps dangling. She moans loudly as he brings the cat o’ nine down on her ass again, and my heart sinks.
It’s Sheila.
I wish I could relate all the things that go through my mind in that instant, but I can’t. It’s so hideously, horrifyingly painful that there are no words to describe it. The room starts to spin and my stomach starts to turn, and I feel hands on me. Next thing I know, I’m in Dave’s office, lying on the floor with my feet up the wall. He looks down at me. “You okay?”
“No. I’m not okay.” I struggle to sit up, but I can’t. I’m too damn dizzy.
“Just lie there for awhile until you get your feet under you.”
My eyes close and I sigh. “How long?”
“About a week now. Bought her own membership. And by the way, I know everything that happened.”
“Oh, I feel so much better just from knowing that.”
“Aha! Still spitting out the sarcasm. You’re in better shape than you think. Come on, let me help you up.” He gives me a hand and helps me up to sitting.
“Thanks.” I just sit there in the floor. I can’t go back through there, can’t stand the thought of seeing that again. My Sheila. My angel. I don’t think my heart can take it. “Mind if I go out the back?”
“I’d rather that you sit here for a few more minutes until you get your feet under you.” As the words drift from his lips, I hear a shriek, and I’m pretty sure it’s Sheila.
“Nope. Gotta go. But thanks. I’ll get Clint to bring home my stuff.” Throwing the back door open, I run to the front of the building and climb into my car. My phone rings almost immediately. Before I can even make a sound, I hear Clint’s voice.
“Steffen, come over here. I don’t want you to be alone.” I try to respond, but all I can do is choke and cry. “We’re headed that way. I’ll drive your car to our house. Please, please, don’t try to drive. I don’t want you getting hurt. Promise me?”
“Okay,” I manage to sputter out. Then I wait until they get there and go to their house.
Three days later, I’m still there. I simply can’t take care of myself. I’m numb all over and I can’t seem to function on any level. This is it. I’ve lost her. And I don’t think I can face that idea.
“You sure you’re ready?” Trish and Clint watch me packing what few things I have there. “Because you can stay as long as you need to,” Clint adds.
“Nope. I’ve got to get back to some kind of life. Three weeks is long enough.” Their faces are lined with concern as I turn to smile at them. “You have no idea how much I appreciate your help and friendship. Really. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you two.”
Trish plants a tiny, soft kiss on my cheek. “We’re here if you need us. It’ll get better, I promise. Have faith.”
“You still talking to her?”
“Yes. Every day. But she’s not budging. She still says she doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
I give her a cheek-peck back. “Yeah. I know. Can’t say as I blame her. My fault; entirely my fault. What about Morris? What are you guys going to do?”
Clint smiles. “I’ve got your Mr. Riley working on that. We’re going after her. Well, as soon as we can find her. But I don’t think that’s going to be too hard. They’ll be able to follow her around now because she’s started showing up at the club, believe it or not.”
“At the club? Are you kidding me?” I just can’t believe Adele would do that, insert herself back into the one place she knows I’d be. And she has to know how much Dave hates her.
“Nope. Not kidding. And all decked out too, trying to get a Dom to play with her. They all know what she’s been up to with you, so they’re staying away from her, but I know there’s one who’s decided he’s going to play with her if it’ll help your case – our case.”
“Who?” Now I’m curious.
He grins. “Reggie.”
“Ah! That should be interesting!” Reggie is a world-class sadist. I’d love to see that. “Could you . . .”
“Absolutely. If she walks in and he’s free, I’ll ask him to stall and call you immediately. You wouldn’t want to miss that show.”
“Nope. Not at all! By the way . . .”
“Yes. Before you ask, yes. She’s coming in and out. She’s been scening every time she’s there. She’s trying to kill off the hurt, and she’s not doing a very good job of it. It’s always the hardcore sadists she looks for, so she’s using the pain to get through it, and it’s even worse when she and Adele show up at the same time. Honestly, I’m afraid Sheila’s going to actually be physically hurt. It’s kinda scary sometimes. I’m sorry, bud. I wish I had something better to tell you, but I just don’t.”
“Aw, it’s okay. Not your problem. Mine entirely.” I sling my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll let you two get back to your own lives and get out of your hair.” They walk me to the door and both of them hug me before I leave. “Tell the girls I’ll miss them. Y
ou guys are so lucky.” Trish turns away from me and I know she’s crying, so I use my best brave voice. “It’ll all be okay. Thanks again.”
My car roars to life and I head home. When I get there, I carry everything to my room and look around. The whole house seems so empty and barren, just like my heart. If she’d just give me ten minutes – I know she still loves me. And I love her more than ever.
That’s bound to count for something.
I’ve decided I’m going to go back to the club. I don’t really want to scene with another sub, and I’m certainly not going to fuck one, but I need to be around people, and those are my people. It’s a crowded night when I walk through the door and into the main room. Several of the male members stop and shake my hand, and the ladies hug me and kiss me on the cheek. Sometimes it’s nice to know you’ve been missed.
But my heart sinks thirty minutes later when I look up from my seat at the bar and see Sheila stroll in. She’s got this angry, defiant look on her face and when she sees me, she ducks into the locker room. My heart almost stops when she comes out.
A thong and stilettos. That’s it. And that’s not all. She’s had her nipples pierced. I take a deep, painful breath and try to let go, but I can’t. Everything inside me tips and I feel my heart spilling out onto the floor. She struts out without even looking at me and walks straight up to the bar. “Can I have a light beer, please? Don’t care what kind.”
Dave glances at me and I respond with, “I’ll pay for the lady’s drink.”
“Thanks, but not necessary.” She reaches for the glass, but I lay my hand on her arm. There’s a hard, dangerous edge to her voice as she snarls out, “Don’t touch me.”
I draw my hand back, but I simply say, “Sheila, can’t we at least be friends?”
Her eyes are cold when she turns them to me. “My friends don’t lie to me. So fuck off.” Beer in hand, she stalks away and finds a seat on a sofa. In no time at all, she’s joined by a Dom I’ve known for years. I see them chatting away, and I realize I’m going to be treated to her scening again. Great. In minutes, they head toward a performance area, and I wince as she takes off the thong and shoes and climbs up onto the bondage table. I can’t hear what’s being said, but she lies down on her back and he straps her down, wrists and ankles. In agony, I watch him take out a three-way clamp and clamp both nipples, then the hood of her clit, and tighten everything so that it’s pulled up and out of the way of that tiny little spot on her body that I called mine. He leans down, sucks it into his mouth a dozen times, and laughs as she squirms and cries out. Then he opens a drawer and pulls out a Hitachi Magic Wand.
He tortures her through at least eight orgasms. It’s almost impossible for me to watch, but, like a bad traffic accident, I can’t look away. She shrieks and strains against her bindings, and I remember the feel of her body under my hands, that satiny skin and dripping cunt, and I start to shake.
But that’s all forgotten when I watch him climb up onto the table, unzip his leathers, and fuck her. And that’s it. My heart is officially broken. There’s nothing more I can do except to watch the only woman I’ve ever really loved be royally fucked by someone who’s not me. Every jab of his cock into her is like a nail being driven into my chest. To my own surprise, I push my way up through the crowd until I’m standing right in the front, even with her head. Watching his dick pounding into her makes mine go completely limp, but I can’t turn away. It’s like it doesn’t matter anymore as long as I’m somewhere near her. When he finally comes, she’s a limp, worn-out mess, and all I really want to do is to go to her and hold her. And that’s when it happens.
She turns and looks directly at me. There’s a splitting sound in my head, like a tree branch cracking away from the trunk, and everything in my body goes still. Her eyes bore into me, empty and hollow, dead from the inside out. I really don’t know what to do anymore, so I just look into her eyes and mouth, I miss you. And she turns away.
The crowd around me is chattering quietly as I spin and walk to the front. When I get into my car, I just turn the key and drive away. There’s no emotion left. I’m just a shell. I don’t hate her. I don’t love her. I don’t feel anything.
Down deep in my chest, there’s no one home.
“Mr. Cothran?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a Mr. Riley on the phone for you.”
“Thanks, Bridget.” I grab the phone. “Mr. Riley! I hope you have some good news for me.”
“Yes, sir, I do. I just got off the phone with Mr. Winstead. We found her. I’ve got my guys on her, and they’re watching her twenty-four seven, have been since yesterday when we confirmed that it’s her. And I thought I’d ask: Do you know where she’s going at night?”
“Oh, I absolutely do.” I’d been seeing her at the club, and I always gave her a wide berth, so I tell him exactly what she’s up to. “And we can’t use that against her, because Clint, Trish, and I all frequent the club.”
“Oh, no, that’s not it. She’s leaving him alone.”
“What?” My voice goes up at least an octave. “You’re kidding! Seriously? What the hell?”
“She’s got some kind of point she wants to make, Mr. Cothran, and I think she’s picked the wrong way to make it.”
“Grounds for social services to . . .”
“Oh, absolutely. We’ll nail her. A week of documentation is all it’ll take. Hang in there.”
“I’m hanging, but I’m concerned about Morris. Poor little guy.”
“As long as my guys are watching, he’s in no danger. They’d blow their cover before they’d let him be hurt.”
I breathe a big sigh of relief. “Good. I hope you told Clint that.”
“I did. It’s just a matter of time, Mr. Cothran. But I thought you’d be glad to hear it.”
“Absolutely. Thanks so much.” Feeling better than I have in weeks, I don’t even have time to call Clint before he calls me.
“I guess you heard?”
I chuckle. “Yeah. Bitch is toast. It’s just a matter of time, Riley says. By the way, you guys doing okay with this?”
“Yeah. We’re looking at bigger houses. Trish may have to get a part-time job, but we’ll just do what we have to do. Steffen, man, I’m the luckiest guy in the world. She hasn’t even blinked. The universe smiled on me when I found that woman.”
I wish he could see my smile. “I agree. You’re a lucky son of a bitch.”
He laughs loudly. “Hey, watch talking about my mama like that!”
“Oh, shut up, Winstead! But I’m glad it’s all working out.”
There’s silence, and then he asks, “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Just fine.”
“I don’t see how you can be fine if . . .”
“I said I’m fine. Let it go.” I’m trying not to sound angry, but I really don’t want to talk about it.
“Okay. It’s let go. Let me know if you hear something before I do, and I’ll do the same for you.”
“You got it. Later.” I hang up and sit there for a minute or two, just thinking. It’s been four months and I still don’t feel anything. Good, bad, nothing. It’s time to play with a sub, I think. Maybe that’ll get me out of my funk.
The first person I see when I step through the doorway into the club is Dominique. I’ve scened with her so many times during the years that I think she’s got a plaque down there that says, “Regular fuckings courtesy of Steffen Cothran.” Her eyes light up when she sees me – well, at least there’s one woman who’s glad I’m around.
“Hey, Master Steffen! You’re looking handsome, as always.” She bats those eyelashes at me and I think about how hot and wet that pussy of hers is. “What’s up?”
I turn on the charm. “Up for scening with me?”
“Sure! Negotiate something?”
“Absolutely.” We sit down and work it all out. She sucks me off, then she’s bound ass-out to the St. Andrew’s and a flogger is applied, after which I give her a manual or
gasm. There’s only a moment’s hesitation before I add, “And then I fuck you.”
“You’d better! I’ve been missing that cock of yours!” she grins.
Aw, yeah. Let the games begin.
I dress out, then take to the floor. There’s a performance alcove waiting for us, and we do exactly as we’ve negotiated. Once she’s had that promised orgasm, and I’ve given her a true screamer, I move in behind her and slide into her wet and waiting pussy. And that’s when I feel it.
Sheila’s out there watching. It’s like I can sense her close by, but it doesn’t faze me. I have every right to fuck someone if she does. As my cock hits home in Dominique’s cunt over and over, I ask myself if I still love Sheila. And I do, but I can’t feel it. I don’t know what would happen if she knocked on my door and told me she wanted me back. I’m just not sure anymore.
But I do know one thing for sure. This pussy feels good, and it’s been too long. Dominique is moaning and crying out, and I pour it on. I just want to fuck her until I can’t fuck her anymore, until my cock is sore and her pussy is raw and I can’t even remember my own name. She comes around me, her channel milking me, but I can’t come; I’m just not ready. When I lean into her ear and ask her for the one thing I hadn’t considered doing with anyone else, she nods in eagerness.
So I roll on a new condom, lube up, and fuck her ass. The sounds of her crying out fill the room as I slam into her with everything I have. It’s hard, but I manage to clear my mind and think only of how it feels to grind in and out of her, and ten minutes later I come with a roar, balls-deep in her ass and thrusting away.
Master Steffen is back. It doesn’t really feel good, but it’s better than nothing.
Once I’m completely spent, I withdraw and slap Dominique on the ass. “Very good job, sub. You’re a fine fuck, as always.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she manages to pant.
“You’re welcome. Let’s get you out of these bindings.” I get her arms, legs, and waist loose, then pick her up and head toward a private room. And there, right by the alcove, is Sheila. There’s a look on her face that I can’t define, but I’m pretty sure mine is blank, as blank as the feelings I’m no longer capable of feeling. I just glide past her, Dominique in my arms, and stride out of the room, down the hallway, and into a private room, shoving the door closed with my boot. I drop her onto the bed and cuddle her close to me. It feels good to have a woman in my arms again. She’s soft and warm and compliant, and I kiss her forehead. “You doing okay, little one?”
Unforgettable You (Me, You, and Us Book 2) Page 15
