She knew Eliza was inside the “circle of trust,” but she didn’t want to give away too much without first knowing how Kel would feel about it. “She had a setback, he said. But she’s working on it. She’s in-patient again.”
“Dammit. I feel so bad for them. I love them to death. Do they need any help?”
“No, not beyond what we’re doing now, pitching in here.”
“Oh, you can sign me and Rusty up for a night next month. We’re completely open. Just let me know when.”
“Want the same Saturday we’re here?”
“Sure.” Eliza smiled. “Can I dress him up as a T-Rex and post him as a guard in the office?”
Cali snorted. “Sure, if you want to.”
“It’s so nice having friends who get our flavor of crazy.”
“Is Rusty okay?” Max asked. “He feeling okay?”
Eliza didn’t even glance over. “Yeah, just feeling his age right now, is all. He’s getting used to it. He’s gotta learn he can’t do things the way he used to in his twenties.”
“Man, June is fucking scary,” Sean said. “I wouldn’t want to cross her.”
Eliza grinned. “True story. Here’s something I’ll deny I ever said, but look her up on YouTube sometime, under her maiden name. June Corden, and her twin sister, July. There’s old video footage from some of their gymnastics meets.” Her grin faded. “Shame about her sister. It really is. But man, could those two girls fly. If they’d made the US team, I have no doubts they would have been standing on a medal podium at the Olympics.”
“How did you know she could beat Rusty?” Cali asked.
“Oh, I took yoga from her and exchanged aikido and stick fighting lessons with her. Scrye wanted her to have a nonlethal way to defend herself after the thing on Manasota Key.”
Cali winced. “Yikes.”
“Yeah. He’s actually asked about me maybe helping her get into SCA and doing combat.”
“You sure that’s…wise?” Max asked.
Eliza grinned. “Hey, a great way to burn off anger issues.”
Rusty walked over. Tonight he wore a leather hood, jock, collar, and wrist and ankle cuffs. He knelt next to Eliza and laid his head on her lap.
She smiled down at him and stroked the top of his head. “Someone ready to play?”
He nodded.
“Okay. Go find us a bench and get it all ready. I’ll be right there.”
He bowed, touching his head to the tops of her boots, and then rose and headed off.
“Looks like someone needs a beating,” Sean noted.
“Yeah, he does. We haven’t played hard in a couple of weeks. Between work and everything else, he’s really stressed out. We won’t make it a late night. After I finish with him, I’m going to take my bushed barbarian home and put him to bed.”
“Thanks again for dinner,” Max said. “We really appreciate it.”
Eliza stood. “Hey, you all put on parties at your house and you work your butts off here. Least we can do.”
Cali waited until Eliza had followed Rusty over to the other side to lean in. “You felt that, right?”
Max nodded. “If they need to talk, they will come to us. Don’t get involved.”
“They’re our friends.”
“Which is why they’ll come to us,” Sean said. “Whatever it is, if it’s serious, Eliza will let us know. Unless or until, we keep our noses out of it. That’s what friends do, unless asked.”
Cali knew they were right, but still…on top of talking to Kel earlier, it left her feeling…helpless.
More helpless.
And that was something she hated feeling when it came to her friends.
* * * *
After Sean finished his eggplant parm, he headed over to the new side to DM there, sending Axel back to the old side to help Max DM a suspension scene Scrye was setting up on the large red A-frame. Rusty now straddled a bench, his wrist and ankle cuffs clipped to rings on the bench.
Lucky bastard.
He’d also been blindfolded and wore a ball gag.
Sean loved watching Eliza play. It was no coincidence that Cali played similarly to her, because Sean had flat-out told Cali during their negotiations that Eliza was a perfect example of what he enjoyed.
Hard, heavy, fast, with enough sensuality to soften the blows, but not enough to allow him to fall out of subspace.
Sure, at home or a private party they could get as sexy as they wanted. But for a plain old impact scene? Eliza was it.
Max had a different style, raw and brutal, when it came to playing with him.
Also perfect for Sean’s tastes, but his dynamic with Max was different than the one he had with Cali. And when Sean played with Max, it was different than how Sean topped Cali. Even though she was a heavy player in her own right, as a Top or bottom, it was…different.
Something he felt but didn’t know how to explain.
Eliza had more than a few of their implements in her arsenal, especially some of the heavier ones. Including the one they’d dubbed “the Silencer,” a piece of aluminum tubing about a foot long with holes drilled in it and a grip handle on one end. Wicked as an implement, or even as a self-defense weapon, as Chelbie had discovered when she’d grabbed it while fending off a home invader one night.
It was hard for Sean to look anywhere but at Rusty and Eliza’s scene. Even Landry, who was currently between scenes, stood off to the side and watched.
The way she used her fists and implements demonstrated a brutal sensuality that nearly had Sean longing to ask her to scene with him.
I need to have Cali talk to her about maybe taking martial arts from her.
Midway through their scene, Max signaled to Sean to come back over to the old side, to DM a fire-cupping scene, switching places with Axel, who’d never DM’d one before. By the time Sean made it back to the new side, Eliza had Rusty curled up in her lap on one of the aftercare couches. His ass and legs bore plenty of marks now.
Just my luck.
But Landry was getting ready to start scening with Cris, so that would give him something good to watch, at least.
I love my friends.
Life was never boring with them, that was for sure.
Landry was almost finished brutalizing Cris when Eliza and Rusty were ready to leave. She gave Sean a quick hug.
“Can you teach Cali some of those moves?” he asked her.
“Sure. Whenever you want.”
“We’re thinking about having a really small R&D party, maybe on a Friday night, before that con up in Tampa next month. To get some opinions on new implements.” He held a finger to his lips. “Need-to-know kind of party. Not the usual full list.”
“Hey, we are there. Just let us know when.”
Rusty now seemed…calmer, somehow. Like whatever had been bothering him had just been beaten out of him.
Then again, maybe it was.
He watched them head toward the office and refocused his attention on Landry and Cris.
We’ll have to invite them, too, if they’re in town.
Man, that would be a party!
Chapter Eight
Eliza led the way out to her SUV and opened the rear hatch for Rusty, so he could dump their bags. Then she held the passenger door open for him.
“In.”
He didn’t argue, silently taking the passenger seat. She closed his door and walked around to get behind the wheel. She didn’t speak until they were out of the complex and on the way home.
“Ready to talk about it, Rus?”
The crystal clear signal that they were in equals mode, no longer in Ma’am and pet mode. Although Ma’am and pet mode was their default, even alone at home or in public. Especially with Kailey away at college in Gainesville. But, hell, even before that, it was their default mode, unless one of them specifically invoked this.
A Lady and her Knight.
Whatever was on his mind had been bugging him for a while. The “medicine interaction” excuse was jus
t that. Rusty knew better than to contradict her in public, especially when she was saving face for him while getting her point across to him in no uncertain terms. She’d told the stories in ways that didn’t leave him looking bad, in the eyes of their friends.
The drinking to excess and crossing boundaries in their dynamic were symptoms of a deeper problem. Her public responses to them were her warning shots across his bow that she’d had about enough of his shit, and she wasn’t going to tolerate it any longer.
Today was the first time she’d directly confronted him about it, and only because she’d sensed during their scene that he was finally ready to talk. He never cried during a scene, unless he was emotionally frayed around the edges to start with.
Tonight he’d sobbed when she finally eased up and finished.
He stared out the window for a long moment. “I’m worried about Corey,” he finally said. “And Marcy, duh, but especially Corey.”
She’d suspected maybe this was part of it, which was the other reason she’d taken a roundabout way to encourage him to open up. She’d wanted him to get it out to her in his own way, but he’d been “stuck” and not forthcoming.
Eliza reached over and patted him on the thigh, leaving her hand there. “It’s okay to be worried. Hell, I’m scared for both of them. But they’re adults. If or when they want us to help, they’ll ask. We already told them we’re here for them.”
“What if he has another heart attack? What if the cancer treatment doesn’t work for her? What if the kids lose them both?” He finally turned to her. “What if we are suddenly raising Jordan and Ashe? What if we’re parents again?”
She’d suspected this was the crux of his issue and felt relief wash through her that he was finally peeling off his emotional armor and talking to her. Anyone who didn’t live with her husband didn’t understand his goofball “barbarian” act was just that—armor to conceal his soft, vulnerable core.
A softness he didn’t like to burden anyone with, including her.
“We’re parents now,” she gently said. “Just because Kailey is at college doesn’t mean we’re not parents. They asked us to be the boys’ guardians because they trust us, honey. We’re their aunt and uncle and closest family besides her parents. We didn’t do bad with Kailey, did we?”
“This is supposed to be the time of our lives where we get to kick back and coast. We’ve got our retirement planned already. We have a life. And I feel like a selfish fucking bastard for even thinking any of that when Corey and Marcy are worried about their damn lives and the kids.”
This she could deal with. Now that he’d finally come clean to her, she could help him sort it out and work through it. She wouldn’t beat him over the head with what he’d done in his misguided attempt to keep his feelings under wraps. He knew he’d fucked up.
And now, he wouldn’t repeat it. “You’re an amazing dad, Rus. And a fantastic husband. If we have to deal with that, we will. But don’t count either of them out yet. Corey said his doctors think he’ll be fine. Marcy is early in her fight. It was only stage two. Between the mastectomy and the chemo and radiation, they’ll knock it out. She’s a fighter.”
“He’s at greater risk of another heart attack. And all the stress of her going through treatment isn’t helping.”
“I know.”
“I feel guilty we’re not up there with them.”
“They have her parents. We were there for her surgery and when he had the heart attack. They told us to come home when they were ready for us to leave, and promised they’d let us know if they need us back up there. We’re an eight-hour drive away. A forty-five-minute flight.”
Bless his heart, her husband was a “fixer.” Whether it was for her or Kailey or his little brother or even friends—he hated not being able to do something.
“It’s how I feel.”
“I know,” she gently said. “It’s one of the reasons I love you so fucking much, honey. You’re not a horrible person, or being selfish, for thinking about us. You’re human, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought that same thing myself a time or two. It’s okay.”
His hand finally came to rest over hers on his thigh. He laced fingers with her and gently squeezed.
Rusty was quiet for several minutes. “He’s younger than me,” he said. “And after the way Mom died…” He didn’t finish.
She’d suspected this was a factor, too, but knew not to start blindly asking him questions once he started opening up. “Your doctor cleared you. You had every test possible, including the arterial ultrasounds in your neck. Your mom had a stroke. He leads a sedentary lifestyle while working a high-stress job and eating junk food. He’s lucky he wasn’t morbidly obese. It wasn’t hereditary, it was situational. You’re in better shape than most guys half your age, sweetie. Hotter than most of them, too. Hell, your ass is fantastic, and there’s not an ounce of fat on you.”
Stick and carrot.
He slowly nodded. “I do have a nice ass,” he finally said.
If there was more light, she knew she’d see the hint of a smile on his face. “Yeah, you do.” She let the quiet linger for another long moment. “You can drink, if you want to, as long as it’s not to excess. First time I see you overdoing it, you’re done drinking for good.”
“No, Ma’am,” he softly said. “I don’t need it.”
She didn’t need to hear him use the title to feel the shift in him. The tone of his voice more than his actual words told her he was back in pet mode, willingly, ready to give himself over completely to her once more, now that he’d finally admitted the problem and invited her in to help him with it.
He was giving it over to her, too, no longer shouldering it alone. They could now work on it together.
“Good boy,” she said. She flipped her hand over and squeezed his. “Let Ma’am worry about this for you. That’s my job.”
She pulled into their driveway and parked. “I’ll go let Booger out for her walk. You get our things and put them in our room, please. Get ready and wait for me on the bed.”
Eliza knew she didn’t need to clarify beyond that how she expected to find him.
He knew.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She popped the rear hatch for him and headed up the walk. Inside, the snorting bulldog met her at the door and Eliza did the familiar dancing side-step to avoid getting slimed by her tongue while aiming for the alarm control panel to deactivate it.
“Hey, girl,” she said. “Hold on. Mommy will walk you.” The fifty-pound bulldog reared up on her hind feet a couple of times before clumsily spinning around and racing for the back door.
Eliza slipped off her shoes, put on a pair of Crocs she kept in the front entry, and followed, turning on lights as she went. The backyard was fenced, but they never let the dog out without supervision. She was definitely an indoor dog, and there’d been reports of coyotes in their neighborhood over the past couple of years.
Now Eliza could process a little, let her own mind settle ahead of her next steps with Rusty. Privately, they’d always joked that he was her brawn and she was his heart and soul. In her heart, she knew he’d be dead now if it wasn’t for her. Nobody but her knew the shit he’d been through as a kid, the stuff he did to protect Corey.
The personal hell he’d endured and suffered and kept secret, until admitting it to her one night in high school when they’d been dating and he’d gotten into the spiked punch at a party.
From that night on, she knew he’d be hers for life. She’d never wanted another man besides him.
It didn’t hurt that he knew what she’d done for him as a result, and he wasn’t threatened or scared or even repulsed by it.
They’d spent their life together fighting each other’s battles, and raising their daughter so she’d hopefully never go through the same kind of hell.
Working on three decades together since they’d first met, they must be doing something right.
* * * *
Boo—Booger’s rea
l name—took her sweet time shnurffling her way through the backyard and going potty. Once she’d finished and huffed her way back to the sliders leading into the kitchen twenty minutes after Eliza let her out, she sat and raised her left front paw, patiently waiting while Eliza got her treat for her.
Eliza locked up, double-checking the front door, and turned off the lights before heading for their bedroom.
Rusty knelt on all fours in the middle of their bed, naked except for his cuffs and collar, hands clasped in front of him and head bowed.
Eyes closed.
The welts and marks from their earlier scene still looked red along his ass and thighs.
“Good boy,” she said, crossing the room to the closet to undress. “I’ll be right with you.” She took her time, letting his mind swing in the quiet, giving him time to think ahead of the next step.
This was his process, and it worked for him, for them. No reason to change any of it now.
Undressing, she planned the next step in her head. Yes, this was serious emotional territory for him, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as things he’d dealt with in the past. Plus, they were both tired. It’d been a long afternoon and evening, no matter how productive it’d been.
Quick and hard it’ll be, then.
She walked into their bathroom, did what she needed to do, and selected a toy from their assortment there. After testing it to make sure the batteries were good, she returned to the bedroom and stood next to the bed.
“Are we good?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Anything else we need to talk about tonight? Or wait until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s fine, Ma’am.”
Excellent. She’d guessed correctly, that with the burden admitted, he’d finally be able to make progress.
She didn’t need an owner’s manual for her sweet barbarian. She just needed to closely watch him and pay attention to what he didn’t say to figure out what he needed. For the stuff he needed the most, he’d never ask.
He wasn’t capable of it, a byproduct of what he’d endured and survived.
It would be a failure on her part if she didn’t pay attention to him.
Friends in Common_Suncoast Society Page 6
