Rough Edges

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Rough Edges Page 11

by Adriana Hunter


  She was almost glad his eyes were closed so that he didn’t see the smile on her face. “It was different, at first. I wanted to fight you a little, I think, not just do what you said. But then…I don’t know how to explain it other than something changed. It wasn’t you being mean, telling me what to do. Or forcing me. I had the choice to do what you asked or not.”

  “And you made your own choice?”

  “I did.”

  His arm tightened around her. “Well, from my point of view, it was a good choice.”

  “Was that aftercare? Talking like that?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I just like to make sure you’re okay. This is all new for you. I don’t want to push you.”

  “It’s odd to have a guy want to take care of me after sex…after this.” She waved her hand in the vague direction of Wesley, not sure how to accurately describe what had had just happened.

  Truthfully, it was very odd. She’d never been with any guy who did much more than roll over after sex and fall asleep. Or, in Tyler’s case, not have sex at all.

  Wesley’s shoulder moved, and she assumed it was one of his trademark shrugs. “I don’t get to offer it very much, at least not here. And I never just talk with any of them. The girls at the club…” Another movement beneath her, another shrug. “Sometimes they’re more interested in the next scene or meeting up with friends. It’s kind of a pleasure to be able to take care of someone. After, I mean.”

  “It’s nice. I could get used to this, having you take care of me, being your sub.” And she thought she really could, especially with Wesley. Even learn to be his submissive.

  But there was no shrug this time. Instead Wesley stiffened against her, then pulled his arm from around her and sat up abruptly. “Um, yeah. Okay. It’s getting late. You can find some clean towels on the back of the door.” He stood abruptly, not meeting her eyes. “I’ll get dressed and give you a ride home when you’re done.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She sat up, mind spinning as Wesley turned away. She caught a hint of a scowl on his face as he bent down, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his hips. She’d said something that crossed that line again.

  But this time she wasn’t going to let him walk away from whatever this thing was that kept coming up between them.

  “Wait. What is it, Wesley? What did I say?”

  He stopped and turned away from her. The tension in his body was unmistakable, from the way he held his shoulders to the clenched hands. Scarlett held her breath as the moment spun on. Either he’d refuse to answer or he’d be angry.

  “I’m asking for the truth, Wesley.”

  “I’ve given you the truth all along. I haven’t held anything back.”

  She sat up, kneeling on the bed. “Look at me.”

  He slowly turned around to face her. In his eyes, she saw such a conflicting mix of emotions that for a moment she was momentarily speechless. The hurt and pain she saw tugged at her heart, but the angry defiance made her swallow uneasily. She really had pushed his buttons this time, inadvertently, and maybe now she was going too far. But she had to find out what it was that set him off, or sent him away.

  “You’ve told me the truth, but you don’t tell me how you feel about that truth. When you get close, then you shut down, shut me out.”

  Wesley blinked, and in that instant the hurt disappeared as if by magic. But the defiance remained.

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Scarlett.”

  “I want us to talk.”

  “We were talking just a few minutes ago.”

  “Not like that. Not like aftercare talk.”

  “Like we’re a couple? You want us to sit down and have a heart-to-heart about me, or my past, or whatever you think we need to talk about?”

  Wesley’s voice had gone low, carrying that steel-edge that had sent shivers down her spine earlier. But now it gave her a different shiver, made her think he was going to throw her out of the apartment and make her find her own way home.

  “Listen.” Wesley crossed the short distance between them and stood, hands on his hips, staring down at Scarlett. She resisted the urge to slide across the bed, to put some distance between them.

  “We don’t have any relationship here, despite everything that’s happened this weekend.” He waved a hand in the space between them. The towel slipped and he grabbed for it. “We’re together because of a fluke, an accident, a misunderstanding.”

  His words were a surprise, and they stung. Scarlett’s heart was in her throat, but she forced herself to speak.

  “You’re living in a little fantasy world, Scarlett.”

  Tears welled up again, but she refused to let them fall. “So there’s nothing between us, other than role-playing and aftercare? None of what happened has changed you, affected you in any way?”

  He pulled back as if she’d slapped him. “I’m not looking to change. I’m happy the way I am, with the way my life is.”

  “So a different girl from Diablo every night, and a different girl at the club works for you? Random, anonymous sex? That’s how you want to live your life?”

  She rose up on her knees, hands on her hips. “I call bullshit. I think you’re looking for something, someone. And I think you’re running scared that you might have found her. I may be bad at men, but I can read you like a book, Wesley. You’re not the cavalier guy you think you are, living this mysterious erotic life. You’re like a stray cat looking for someone to take you in, to give you whatever it is you don’t have.”

  “You’re pushing it here, Scarlett. Really, you need to back off.” He turned away again, taking a few strides across the room. “This isn’t just random, anonymous sex. It’s a lifestyle.”

  “Bullshit again. You’re using all this bondage lifestyle and fantasy sex stuff as a nice, neat little cover for what your life is really like. That you’re alone and you don’t like it.”

  She stopped, hearing the tone of her voice, the last words she said hanging in the air. Wesley stared at her from across the room, and she half expected him to grab her clothes and her and toss her out of the apartment.

  But he didn’t. He let out a long breath, running one hand through his hair. Then he shook his head, a hint of a smile crossing his face.

  “Like I said, Scarlett. You’re one of a kind. I think that little rant just qualified as the first time someone’s offered me aftercare.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “You’re not mad? I pretty much just cut your life to ribbons.”

  He looked at her levelly for a moment. “I’m angry. You really had no right to say what you did.” He took a step toward her, hesitated, then took another. A flicker of confusion crossed his face.

  “Maybe it’s time I come clean with you.”

  “You haven’t been up till now?” Something in the tone of his voice made her cold all over, very cold. “You’ve lied to me?” All kinds of horrible images rose up in her mind. She closed her eyes, wishing she could rewind the last fifteen minutes of her life. There was no way this was going to turn out anything but bad.

  “I haven’t lied, Scarlett. I just haven’t told you the whole story.”

  Chapter Ten

  Scarlett leaned against the door of her apartment. She could hear the sound of Wesley’s receding steps down the hall, then the soft thud of the outer door.

  She stood for a moment, eyes closed, trying to deal with the welter of emotions roiling inside her. Even in the midst of their discussion…argument…whatever it had been, she’d at least had Wesley to focus on. Somehow, even as he told her his story and they’d talked, she felt grounded. Now, alone in her own apartment, she felt as if she were going to fly off the face of the earth.

  “Get a grip, girl.” Her voice sounded shaky and her words did little to calm her down. Blowing out a breath, she headed to her bedroom. Her body still ached, and now she had the added pain of her confrontation with Wesley. It played over in her head like a bad movie.

  “I haven’t lied, Scarlett. I ju
st haven’t told you the whole story.”

  He’d stood in his bedroom door for a moment, clutching the towel around his waist, his words lingering in the air. Then he’d excused himself, grabbed a pair of sweats, and disappeared into the bathroom. She took the opportunity to pull on her skirt and tank, wishing she had had the foresight to bring something else to wear. But she was damned sure she wasn’t going to sit naked while Wesley told her whatever it was he was going to say. Being undressed or wrapped in a sheet made her feel far too vulnerable.

  He came out a minute later, dressed, apparently a little more in control. At least his expression was back to his normal confident look. What was going on inside that head though, Scarlett had no clue.

  She watched him cross the room. For a moment he eyed the bed where she sat, then veered away, pulling out the desk chair and sitting down. The distance between them seemed vast, far more than the few feet of carpet that separated them.

  “So there’s a story?” She perched on the edge of the bed, trying to look composed, hoping he couldn’t see the pounding of her heart against her shirt.

  He glanced up at her, his look remote, closed. He really had gotten control of himself. Or, more likely, he’d shut himself down completely.

  “There’s always a story, Scarlett. I have one. You have one. They bleed through our lives, color our days. Yours sent you to a club, and you ended up tied to my bed.” He glanced past her at the headboard. The red silk ties were put away, but Scarlett saw a brief flash of heat in his eyes and she knew he was remembering, like she was.

  “And your story? How does it affect you?”

  Wesley shrugged. That shrug told Scarlett everything she needed about how Wesley was feeling. It carried more pain than any simple gesture should.

  “I made a bad choice, early on. Got mixed up with the wrong people. Or the wrong person. You know how it is.” He looked up at her, didn’t wait for an answer, and went on.

  “She wanted a sub. I wanted a Dom. It seemed a match made in heaven. Turned out to be a match made in hell.”

  Scarlett watched Wesley’s face darken, his brows draw down over lowered eyes. She wanted to do something, hug him, sit at his feet, touch him. But she knew he needed to do this alone, without her comfort. And that broke her heart.

  “I met her at the club where I took you. We didn’t hit it off right away. Should have paid attention to chemistry, but I was too taken with the whole lifestyle…” He glanced up at Scarlett. “Bullshit, as you’d say. I was in love with her. And that’s the worst thing a sub can do, to fall love with their Dom. At least, it was the worst thing I could do.”

  Scarlett drew a breath, words poised, but Wesley held up his hand. “I know you saw Chase and Brooke at the club. And even though they’re a couple, and I suppose in love, they’re far from perfect. But they make it work, somehow. I have no idea how, but they do.”

  Wesley slumped in his chair, staring down at the carpet. “I loved her and she used that love against me. I was vulnerable, I guess, or stupid. She didn’t treat me as a sub; she treated me like a doormat, manipulated me. By the time I finally figured out the game, she’d gotten tired of it all, of me, and she left.”

  He looked up, pain and hurt mixed with the angry defiance she’d seen before. “So yeah, I’ve got a story. And it makes me act the way I do. You think I have commitment issues, or that I’m just looking for meaningless, anonymous sex.”

  “That’s not what I think at all, Wesley. It’s like you’re looking for a way to even the score maybe…”

  When he stood, it was so sudden that his chair toppled over. Scarlett’s words died in her throat and she flinched, one hand raised, not sure what was happening. He crossed the space between them, kneeling on the floor at her feet. His hands caught her around the waist, pulling her forward until he was between her legs, his face upturned to hers.

  “I’m not looking to recreate what she did to me with random girls, to use them like she used me. I’m not out for revenge, Scarlett. I’m looking to make things right, to make it right for someone else. But I never get the chance…”

  Scarlett looked down at Wesley. His eyes weren’t hidden beneath half-lowered lids. He was looking her square in the face and she saw he was seeking for something from her. Acceptance, or approval. Or maybe just understanding.

  She reached out and touched his cheek. “The chance? The chance to have a relationship? How could you? You’re looking for a relationship with girls who want fantasy. How can you expect them to want any kind of relationship? They’re looking for something dangerous without the danger. They don’t care who gives them that experience.”

  “You’re here. Why is that? What are you looking for?” His voice had dropped, just above a whisper. It tugged at her heart.

  “I am here. But I wasn’t looking for fantasy. Maybe I really wasn’t looking for anything.” She sighed. “I think I get what you’re saying. But can you fix you by making it right for some other girl, someone not even interested in having you know her name?”

  A frown passed over Wesley’s face. “It’s all I know how to do, Scarlett.”

  “But is this working for you? Are you happy like this?”

  He held her gaze a moment longer and then stood up. She looked up at him and saw the look in his eyes. And it made her heart hurt. The pain was gone, replaced with something like disappointment.

  “I should take you home.” He reached past her to the nightstand, grabbing the tube of aloe.

  “Here. You can take this with you.”

  “Wesley. Wait.” She stood up, aching to find the right words, to do or say something that would erase the look in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t lie to you. I can’t tell you something just because you think you want to hear it. I just…I want…”

  He turned back, his eyes hard, lips compressed in a thin line. “What do you want, Scarlett? I’m not going to be your bad boy, your walk on the wild side. Or whatever else you think I am. You had your fling. Now it’s time to give up on the damaged goods and head back to your regular, safe guys.” He turned toward the door but she grabbed his arm, pulling him back toward her.

  “That’s not fair. You have no right to say that.” Anger, sudden and hot, boiled up. “That’s not why I’m here and you know it. I had no idea what was going to happen at Diablo, that I’d end up here. I’m not like all those other girls.”

  Wesley looked down at her hand, still holding his arm. For a moment she thought he would shake her off. But he didn’t.

  “Scarlett, I don’t know…”

  “But once I realized what was going on, I wanted to stay. Not just because it was a chance to do something wild or dangerous. Yeah, I’ll admit it’s exciting, erotic. It’s sure as hell not something I’ve ever done before. But I like it. I like it a lot. And I want it to keep happening. With you.”

  She took a step closer. “I like that it’s all happening with you. You make me feel safe, even when you’ve got me tied blindfolded to a cross, whipping me with a riding crop.”

  His expression had relaxed, his eyes softening. “We make a really great pair, don’t we?”

  “I think we’d make a great pair, if you’d let me in.” She shook her head, breathing out a laugh. “It’s really ironic that you’ve tied me up, twice, done things to me no one else has, but you’re basically a stranger.”

  He returned her smile. “Yeah, it’s not your usual start to a relationship.”

  “You said relationship.” She grinned. “Freudian slip?”

  “Not sure.” He pulled her into a sudden hug. She heard his sigh and felt his breath ruffle the hair above her ear.

  “All I know is this is maybe the best I’ve felt in a long time. Despite being really mad at you.”

  “I’m sorry for what I said.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s probably the first time in a long time anyone’s told me the truth.”

  He stepped back, fingers sliding up to cradle her face. “I can’t make
any promises, Scarlett. All I can do is try. I can try to give us a chance. Make some changes.”

  “Give up the club? The fantasy stuff at Diablo?”

  There was a hesitation, a brief flash of something like loss or regret in his eyes. “I can try, yeah. For you…for us. I can try.”

  She nodded and even though he was smiling at her, even with the dimples, she thought he looked sad. Before she could put her finger on the vague question in her mind, he spoke again.

  “I should take you home. You need to get some rest. I’ve got things I need to do today.”

  Even though what he said made sense, she had the vague, and probably irrational, thought that he wanted to get rid of her. Then she mentally kicked herself. She was being overly sensitive, paranoid if she really wanted to pin it down. They’d just had their first argument and they were both a little tender. And he was right, she was exhausted.

  “Okay. I’ll call you later.”

  “Deal. I’ll be around tonight.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Get your stuff and I’ll drop you off.”

  * * *

  The ringing of the phone woke Scarlett. She squinted at the clock. It was mid-afternoon; she’d only been asleep for maybe an hour. Fumbling with the phone one-handed, she flipped it open.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, I’ve been waiting for you to call. How did it go?”

  “Oh, hi, Gina.” Scarlett sat up, running one hand through her tangled hair. “It went…good, I guess. Listen, you woke me up and I’m not really awake enough to give you the details.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll stop off at Julian’s Café and grab a couple lattes and muffins and swing by. You’ll be awake by then.”

  Before Scarlett could stammer a reply, the phone went silent. Gina was a force of nature and when she had it in her head that she wanted something, there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop her.

  Scarlett climbed out of bed, pulling on her robe. She’d managed a shower after Wesley dropped her off, then tumbled into bed and fallen instantly asleep.

 

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