“Overwhelmed.” Emily hurried down to the other end of the bar and mixed another couple of drinks, before she came back to Paul. “He's a really nice guy, Paul. Really nice. I'm not sure anything would work between us though. And there are his kids and all to think about.” She smiled wistfully. “We definitely had a connection with one another, but I don't know if he can deal with what I am, what I was doing for a living.”
Paul didn't miss the past tense. “What you were doing?”
Emily smiled shyly. “I'm taking a break from the escort work, at least until I figure out if this thing with Matt has a future. If he was overwhelmed by the submissive stuff – he was deeply unhappy about the escort work. If I want to give a relationship any sort of chance, I decided I had to pull out of the escort work.”
“So you're going to work in the bar for a while? How will you go financially with school?” Paul questioned. “You need help with money, kid? Mandy and I'll be happy to help.”
Emily shook her head, touched by Paul's generosity. “I'll be fine. I've got some money saved and Sally is a generous employer. I won't earn as much working in the Club, but it's enough to keep me in school for now.”
“You must think there's something with Matt, if you've made that decision after one date,” Paul pointed out.
“Not at all,” Emily responded immediately. At least, that's what she was trying to tell herself – there was nothing between her and Matt besides lust, pure and simple. Despite trying to dampen down her enthusiasm, Emily couldn't ignore the little stutter her heart made when she thought of him, or the excitement which had made her pulse beat a little harder when he'd attempted to dominate her a little. The deepness of his voice, the commanding tone – she was certain he had a dominant streak inside him. “It was obvious he didn't like the idea of me being with other men, so in the interests of giving this a fair chance, I decided to stop working for a little while. That's all.”
“You keep telling yourself that, darlin',” Paul said with a mischievous grin. He leaned forward again; close enough for their conversation to remain private. “Do you want me to talk to him? Explain some stuff?”
It was a huge concession on Paul's behalf and Emily appreciated it. Paul Meccelli was a natural Dom, his wife Mandy beautifully submissive to his desires. They didn't play with other people, preferring each other's sole attention, but they enjoyed the club atmosphere. Of course, Paul had to be extremely careful when he was at the Club, keeping his identity anonymous to prevent repercussions in his professional life, but it wasn't an unusual situation in Salacious to have customers wearing masks. It kept them anonymous to the general population of the Club, but their identities were well known to the staff. Though Emily would never dream of divulging the identity of any of the regulars who chose to remain anonymous, it was a mute point regardless. Every staff member in Salacious was required to sign ironclad confidentiality agreements, to ensure the patrons privacy and it was well known in BDSM circles throughout the United States that Salacious was one of the most discreet clubs in the country and consequently, one of the most popular.
“Thanks, Paul. You know how much I appreciate the offer, and I love you for it. I think Matt has to make this decision on his own, however, he needs to be comfortable with what he's getting into on his own terms.”
“I've kept this lifestyle secret all my life, Em, but I will talk to Matt if you decide you want me to. I think he's got the heart of a Dom, he just doesn't know it yet.” Paul smiled wryly, throwing Emily a wink. “If the way he bosses me around is any indication, I'd practically guarantee it.”
“Really? Someone else can get the better of you?” Mandy questioned gleefully, kissing her husband and pressing her lithe body up against him.
“Keep that up, darlin',” Paul warned his wife firmly, “and you're gonna get a spankin' when we get home.”
Mandy giggled happily. “Really? I can't wait.”
* * *
Chapter Six
On a scale of one to ten for lousy weeks, Matt's had skyrocketed into the stratosphere – and it wasn't over yet.
Sunday was self-inflicted pain – after polishing off a bottle of whisky, Matt woke up around midday with another erection and a pounding headache. He'd dreamed of Emily all Saturday night, couldn't seem to get her out of his goddamned mind. It took all afternoon, picking up the kids and getting them settled back at home, before he began to feel half-way human.
The week deteriorated from there, with each successive day worse than the one before. Monday he got a call from Courtney's school, informing him she'd been skipping out on classes, which necessitated a visit to the school and a screaming argument with his eldest daughter on Monday night. Tuesday found him working late again, and he had to hustle to arrange with Caroline's mom to pick up the kids from school, detour to her place to pick them up, and then get them home and organized for school the following day. By the time he'd got them settled into bed, thrown some washing through the machine from the gargantuan pile in the laundry, and dealt with some mail, it was well after midnight before he got to bed.
Wednesday consisted of another killer day at work, organizing dinner, supervising homework and fighting with Courtney again. To complete the perfect day, Millie woke up from a nightmare at midnight and couldn't be settled, finally ending up tucked into Matt's bed and taking up the majority of it. How such a little girl could spread so far across a bed, Matt didn't know, but he had the aches to prove she was more than competent at the feat. His back felt as if he'd been rolled over by a truck and his neck was so far out of alignment he wondered if he should see a chiropractor.
The absolute highlight of a miserable week was the visit to an emergency clinic on Thursday night with Courtney, who'd taken Matt's firm refusal regarding a belly piercing as an indication she should do it herself. Compliments of ice to numb her skin and a large darning needle, Courtney needed to see a Doctor and they'd spent several hours in near silence, waiting at the clinic so Courtney could receive a tetanus booster. Matt was both furious with his oldest daughter and frustrated to hell with her.
In fact, he mused, as Paul drove towards a crime scene on Friday morning, he was frustrated to hell with everything. Not least of which was his sex life, or lack thereof. In between everything else the Gods had chosen to throw at him this week, Matt had found his meager amount of sleep interrupted by continual dreams of Emily. Erotic dreams assaulted him every time he managed to doze off, with Emily lying naked and spread-eagled on his bed, wearing nothing but a sexy smile. Or kneeling in front of him, sucking his dick like a lollipop, her eyes filled with lust and her hot mouth bringing him to an explosive climax, pumping his seed down her throat. He almost groaned aloud at the memory.
“You okay, buddy?” Paul asked, glancing across at him as they travelled through the city. “You look washed out, man.”
“Not sleeping,” Matt muttered, sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup. It tasted like crap and wasn't improving his mood any, but it was hot and full of caffeine and sugar, which he was going to need to survive the day. “Where are we headed?”
“Not much farther, body was found in an alley near the Space Needle.”
Paul parked the car in the next street, and the two men strode across the road, to where police had erected crime scene tape and were holding the local residents back from the alleyway. Matt displayed his badge to the two police officers at the entrance, pulled on latex gloves and walked down to where the CSI crew was photographing the scene. “What have we got?”
“Female, approximately twenty five years old. Clothing indicates she's a hooker. One bullet wound through the skull, another two in the chest. Looks like they were having sex here in the alley, the deal went bad and the john shot her.”
Matt's mood worsened considerably as he stared down at the body. Christ. This was all he needed, a hooker who'd been murdered. Looking at the dead woman, he realized she could easily have been Emily. Same fucking job, whether Emily wanted to call herself an escort or not.
The facts of the matter remained the same – every time Emily went to a meeting with a john, she was putting herself in fucking danger. His frustration and anger exploded. “Goddamn stupid fucking bitch! What the fuck are they thinking, meeting up with complete fucking strangers for sex!”
The other officers on the scene seemed stunned at Matt's outburst and Paul grabbed his partner's arm, firmly dragging him back to the entrance of the alleyway. When they reached a quiet spot behind a pile of garbage cans, Paul spoke, eyeing his partner warily. “Shit, Matt, what the hell was that all about?”
Matt wiped a hand over his chin wearily. “Nothing. It's been a tough week, I'm tired.”
Paul eyed his friend, searching his partner's eyes for the truth. “You're bullshitting yourself as well as me, chum.” Pushing his hands into his pockets, he shook his head in disbelief. “Christ, Matt, pull yourself together. When we finish work tonight, I think you and I need to go have a quiet beer.”
“I need to get home to the kids,” Matt retorted angrily. He was pissed off with himself, what the hell was going on with him? Sure, he was tired, but he'd never given a case anything but his best professional approach in twenty years of police work.
“You need to relax, you fucker. You've been wound up tighter than a spring for the past week. Something is screwing with your head and we're gonna have a couple of beers after work and talk it through. The kids'll be fine, I'll ask Mandy to pick them up after school, take 'em to our place, and you can have dinner with us.” Paul gazed at his friend with determination. “I'm not taking no for an answer. Now get your head in this case and let's work the crime scene.”
≈≈◊◊≈◊◊≈≈
Matt pulled up in Paul's driveway and turned off the ignition. After finishing work well after six, Paul had suggested they head to his place and enjoy a couple of beers, rather than heading to a bar. With a slight headache buzzing around his temples, Matt had willingly agreed to the idea, thinking it was better than being in a crowded, noisy bar on a Friday night.
Paul let them into the darkened house and Matt glanced around the silent living room. “Where are the kids?” He loosened off his tie and pulled it from around his neck before stuffing it into his pants pocket.
“Mandy and a friend took them bowling, they'll be home in an hour or so,” Paul explained, striding through the house to the kitchen. He pulled the fridge door open and scanned the contents, pulling out two beers and throwing one to Matt. “She said they'd eat out, wanna order Thai?”
“Yeah, sure.” Matt opened the beer and took a mouthful, savoring the bitter cold taste against his tongue.
“Go sit down, I'll order food,” Paul said. He'd already taken off his tie and was removing his jacket, rolling up his shirtsleeves.
Matt did the same thing, throwing his jacket over the back of the couch before he slumped down against the cushions. He glanced around the living room, Mandy kept the place pristine and he cringed inwardly at the state of his own house. Caroline would be pissed if she could see the mess in their home, she'd always been house-proud, and he was dropping the ball in that department. Maybe he'd hire a housekeeper to keep the place looking tidier. It would beat busting his balls every weekend playing catch-up.
“It'll be here in half an hour,” Paul remarked as he came into the living room, taking a seat in one of the large armchairs. He ran his fingers through his short black hair, eyeing Matt cautiously. “So, do you want me to bullshit about some other subjects, or will I cut straight to the chase and ask what the hell's been wrong with you this week?”
Matt inhaled deeply, gulping down some more beer. “Nothing's wrong. I'm just fucking tired, that's all.”
“I've been your partner for eight years, you can't bullshit me.” Paul leaned back, lifting one ankle to balance on his knee. “Have you rung Emily?”
“No.”
“Are you going to?”
Matt sighed, wanting to avoid this conversation like the plague. “What's it to you?”
“She's a friend of mine. You're a friend of mine. You like one another, from what I can gather.” Paul sipped his beer, watching Matt curiously. “Not that I'm a master at this relationship stuff, but I figure you won't know if it's gonna go anywhere, if you don't even ring her.”
“It'll never work.” Matt stood up, pacing the floor restlessly. “She's a nice girl, but she's a hooker, for Christ sake.”
“She's an escort, not a hooker,” Paul announced, his grey eyes intent.
“What the hell difference does it make?” Matt exploded furiously. “Whether she calls herself an escort, or a hooker, it's all pedantic! She sells her fucking body for money!”
“It makes a difference to Em,” Paul pointed out reasonably. “And there is a difference. If she were a hooker, she'd be out walking the streets looking for customers. Emily services a discreet amount of customers, carefully screened by her boss and she doesn't sleep around.”
Matt stared at Paul in amazement. “I don't know how you can even say there's a difference!” He chugged down the last of the beer, crushing the can violently in his fist.
“Matt, I've known Emily for a long time. She's a wonderful woman and she's bright, funny, and intelligent. And she works as an escort.” Paul calmly sipped his beer, watching Matt pace. “She has six clients in total. She saw you, as a favor to me, and you should consider yourself damned lucky she agreed to it. You're thinking of her as a twenty-dollar hooker, hanging out on street corners and servicing dozens of men to finance her next fix. Emily isn't like that.”
“She's still sleeping with six different men,” Matt said angrily.
“Not at the moment, she isn't.” Paul rubbed his hand against his knee before he spoke again, considering how much he had the right to tell Matt. Given his reaction, Paul figured a lot of Matt's stress this week had been caused by the exact subject they were talking about now. “Matt, she's called a halt to the escort work.”
“What? Why?” Matt stopped pacing, turning to glare at Paul.
“Because of you, idiot. She was worried you didn't like what she does for a living and before you get riled up, I can understand that. Hell, I wouldn't like to think of Mandy sleeping with other men, either. But Emily wanted to give this… whatever it is between you, a chance. She told me she was pulling back on the escort work and I'm betting she thought you would at least phone her again.”
Matt considered this for a moment, pondering over Paul's explanation. Shit, she'd given up her work because of him. Why would she do that? Because you promised her you'd ring in a couple of days, shithead. Matt returned to pacing, pleased when Paul remained silent and let him think.
“What's she doing?” he finally said.
“Working at Salacious, behind the bar. It doesn't pay nearly as well, but she was willing to do it.”
Matt stopped pacing and stared at Paul. “How'd you know all this?”
“Because, unlike you, I've talked to her.” Paul stood up, heading into the kitchen and he returned with another two beers, handing one to Matt. He sat back down, watching Matt wordlessly.
“There's shit about her, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with,” Matt finally admitted, annoyed with himself for even having this reaction. He was a mature adult man, what the hell was his problem? So Emily liked someone to be the boss in bed, to take control. Shit, he'd been masturbating to the idea for the past seven days, why couldn't he admit to himself that the thought turned him on?
“The fact that she's a sub?” Paul decided to press ahead with this conversation, even though he was worried about how Matt would handle any revelations he made about himself and Mandy. Damn it, he loved Emily like a little sister, wanted her to have a chance of happiness and he wanted the same thing for Matt. If that meant opening up about his and Mandy's relationship – so be it.
Matt raised an eyebrow as he stared at Paul in disbelief. “You know about that stuff?”
“Sit down, Matt. I've got some things to tell you.”
Matt stared at his f
riend for a long moment, saw the gravity in his grey eyes, and wondered what was going on. He and Paul had been partners for eight years; he thought he knew everything about the guy. The concern in Paul's expression made him wonder. “I'm not sure I like the sound of that.”
“Trust me, Matt. If I didn't think you needed to hear it, I wouldn't be sharing.” Matt raised an eyebrow, still standing motionless in the middle of the living room and Paul sighed. “For Christ's sake. Sit down, will you?”
Matt dropped his tall frame onto the couch, stretching his long legs out in front of him and watched Paul warily. “Spill it.”
“You're freaked out about the submissive stuff,” Paul began quietly. “You don't understand it, you've never been involved in it, and you don't know how to handle it.”
Matt leaned forward, dropping his beer onto the coffee table. “You're right. I don't know how to handle it.”
“You and Caroline— You never—” Paul raked his fingers through his hair, wondering how the hell to get this out without sounding like a freak. “You never… played in the bedroom?”
Matt thought for a second, clenching his jaw so tightly his teeth ground together. He wasn't comfortable talking about his sex life with anyone, least of all the man he worked with. “That's none of your damn business.”
Paul shrugged. “Okay, that's cool. Trust me; if I thought I could get you and Emily together without having this discussion, I'd be fucking happier.”
“I've got no idea what you're talking about.” Matt was truly nonplussed, couldn't figure out what Paul was hedging about. And clearly, he was hedging over something, judging by the way he was shaking his foot nervously and clenching the can of beer as if it was a lifeline.
“Matt, I'm a Dom and Mandy is a sub.”
Matt blinked owlishly. “What?”
Paul leaned forward in the armchair, clasping the beer between his hands. “Not that it would be any of your business in any other circumstances, hell; I know it isn't your business now. I promised Em I wouldn't talk to you about our lifestyle; she wanted you to have the chance to make up your own mind. But if you're gonna throw away an opportunity to know her better because of her choices, I think I should enlighten you some about my lifestyle.”
Contrasting Lives Page 7
