Almost Gothic [Suncoast Socitey] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Tymber Dalton

  Things that were pretty sexy in their own right.

  “Can we not stay real late, though?” she asked.

  “We won’t stay late.” He flashed a smile she knew was forced, but didn’t call him out on it. “We’ll have plenty of alone time later.”

  * * * *

  After practice, they’d returned to her house to shower and chill for a little bit. She’d even coaxed him into the shower with her, but that’s when she knew whatever was bothering him was really bad and she wouldn’t be able to talk him into skipping the party. His body didn’t show the slightest bit of interest in the gentle teasing she’d tried.

  So she soaped his back for him and let him hug her for a long, quiet moment before he released her with a kiss to the top of her head.

  This felt…wrong.

  Bad.

  And she knew all she could do was wait him out.

  Tonight’s party was supposed to be wild, but so far, Eliza wasn’t seeing it. The parents of one of their friends were out of town, and the guy’s college-aged sister was “babysitting.” Still feeling sort of dehydrated from their earlier practice, Eliza stuck to drinking water while Rusty hit the punch.

  After his third cup of the stuff, when she finally noticed him laughing a little too loudly and his smile wider than usual, she sniffed his cup and then took a sip.

  “Holy fuck,” she muttered as he tried to reach for his cup. “This stuff’s spiked.”

  “I know!” He kissed her, and for a moment the sweet, cool feel of his lips distracted her from the fact that hellooo, he was well on his way to being drunk.

  It also allowed him to distract her enough for him to snag his cup from her, quickly turning so he could drain it in a few gulps before heading back for more.

  Well, hell.

  At least she was driving them tonight, so there was that. What the hell, Rus was usually a pretty straight guy normally. He wasn’t a drinker. He didn’t smoke or do drugs.

  Wasn’t like they’d have to worry about him getting in trouble, since they were going back to her house. With her parents out of town, wasn’t like they’d see him drunk and then rat him out to his mom.

  And something had finally pulled Rusty out of his funk, at least. So there was that bonus.

  Maybe he needs this.

  The pizzas arrived, and Eliza snagged herself several pieces while Rusty had ended up in a discussion about a video game with a couple of guys. She thought about making him eat so he wasn’t pounding back the spiked punch on an empty stomach, but then decided no, screw it. He was a big boy and didn’t need her to baby him.

  She took her pizza outside to the lanai and grabbed an empty chair out there. Swimming wasn’t in her plans tonight, either, even though it was a pool party and there were plenty of kids already in the pool.

  What she wanted to do was go home with Rus and cuddle in front of the TV. Possibly get him to talk. Maybe coax him into sliding his hand down her pants or…something.

  She had an itch she wanted scratched, and she didn’t want to have to resort to self-scratching tonight when she had Rusty and no parental interruptions.

  Thirty minutes later, she could see through the sliding glass doors that he was still talking with the same group of friends, but at least he had a piece of pizza in one hand now.

  Progress.

  She headed back to the living room to watch a movie on TV with some other, quieter kids who weren’t swimming or talking.

  By nine she was starting to yawn a little and wanted to go home. When she went in search of Rusty she found him out in the backyard talking to some friends. By the way he was swaying on his feet, she suspected he’d had several more cups of punch.

  “Come on, barbarian,” she said, taking the cup from him. “Time to go.” It was still half-full.

  He looked like he was having trouble focusing on her. “Why?”

  “Because it’s getting late and I’m turning into a pumpkin. We’re going back to my house. Remember?”

  She didn’t want to say it loud so that others heard her parents were out of town. Last thing she needed was calling the cops because a bunch of friends descended on her house for an impromptu party. Her mom knew Rusty sometimes spent the night when they were out of town for one of her father’s work events, but it was sort of a don’t ask, don’t tell thing. She got good grades, they came home to find the house the way they left it, and they knew Rus and Corey’s home situation wasn’t ideal.

  He reached for his cup, but she easily dodged his slow reflexes and dropped into the tone she used on him during combat practice or their lessons, somewhere between instructor and his Lady. “I’m cutting you off, big guy. You’re done.”

  It looked like he was going to give up, but then someone called her name and when she looked, Rusty grabbed for the cup. Between her trying to get free and him trying to yank on the cup, it somehow managed to get splashed all over his face and shirt, and now she was really irritated at him. She didn’t want that shit all over her car.

  “Dammit, Rusty!”

  He looked down at his shirt and stuck his lower lip out like a toddler. She also realized he was really swaying on his feet.

  Fuck. He’s really drunk.

  Totally wasted. How many cups of that shit did he drink?

  She sighed. “Come on, barbarian. Let’s clean you up and get out of here.”

  She managed to guide him inside and into the pool bathroom—barely. Staggering under his weight but unwilling to ask anyone for help, she used her foot to kick the toilet seat and lid down and managed to aim his body for it, fortunately sticking the landing on the first try. Turning, she closed and locked the door before looking around to see what was there. Grabbing a washcloth off a shelf holding clean towels, she wet it and wiped his face and arms and shirt, trying to get as much of the spilled punch off him as she could.

  “Rus, you’re a mess.”

  He stared at her hands, and when he looked up, there were tears in his eyes.

  Caught off-guard, she cradled his face in her hands. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face against her midsection. “Uncle Borden called my Mom this morning. Asked when my graduation is.”

  She thought he was going to continue, but he didn’t. She knew very little about the man, had remembered maybe hearing Rusty’s mom mention him, but Eliza hadn’t met him. “Oookay?”

  “Said he wants to be there. Mentioned taking Corey on a camping trip next month. Which is why he really called.” His hands tightly fisted the back of her shirt, where he had hold of it, like a desperate, drowning man. He pressed his face even more tightly against her and her arms automatically wrapped around him. Protective.

  “Rus,” she softly said, sensing this was what had driven his dark mood all day, “you need to talk to me.”

  The tears. It ripped her to pieces from the inside out, the sound of him crying, his whole body shaking with the force of it. “He’s a fucking monster,” he whispered.

  Cold, metallic fear coated her tongue as dread cloaked her, the suspicion already sinking in but she needed to hear him say it.

  And she knew she couldn’t force him to say it.

  Or could she?

  Dropping her head onto his, kissing his scalp, she kept herself wrapped around him, the spilled punch now the last thing on her mind. “Tell me,” she whispered.

  She could barely understand him through his ragged sobs. “It was…after Dad died. Mom…had to work a lot of night shifts. He volunteered to look after us at his place…or he’d take us camping and stuff. Started innocent. Then he’d start running his hand up my leg. That turned into him having me feel him, and when I said I didn’t want to, he told me he’d let Corey do it. Let! That if I told Mom, she’d have no one to help her and she could lose custody of us.”

  Eliza barely contained her smoldering rage and forced herself to remain quiet and let him talk. She suspected if she interrupted him that she might not get the who
le story out of him until much later. That to talk about it now was an act of bravery he’d never contemplated committing before her or before now.

  Triggered by the alcohol, he’d finally broken.

  “It took him about a month to work up to making me…do more. Fucker told me he was teaching me how to be a man. Jerk me off while he made me…” He shuddered. “Then he started…fucking me.” More sobs, ripping her heart and soul to raw and bleeding pieces with every gasping breath. “Told me every time I tried to stop him if I didn’t do it, he’d just use Corey.”

  She had to know. “How old were you when this started?”

  “Nine. Until I was thirteen and Mom could leave me in charge of Corey and she got her shifts changed back to day full-time for a while. I’d beg him not to do it, and he’d tell me I must like it if he could get me to…” He shuddered again. “Or if I wouldn’t do it, he’d use Corey.” More shudders. “I wanted to kill myself and knew if I did he’d just go after Corey, and he’d have no one to protect him. Almost did it. Thought about stepping out in front of a car during a run. Thought about it a lot, to get away from the memories.” He sniffled. “Until I met you.”

  Nuzzling his temple, everything he’d said about not wanting to have sex until they got married slipped a notch sideways and finally slid into place.

  Eliza understood.

  Everything.

  A few muttered comments that she’d lacked context for coming into clear, sharp, gruesome focus.

  Because…

  Rus needed the good memory. He needed something untainted.

  He needed her and them and what they had together to overshadow what he’d been through.

  He hadn’t lied to her when he said he hadn’t been with a guy—rape wasn’t “being with” a guy.

  This was why he was so wrapped up in his need for what they had to be built on a solid foundation. Because so much had been fucking taken away from him already, and he needed to reclaim what he could in the only way he could.

  She gently rocked him as he cried, his sobs muffled against her shirt even as her own rage boiled over. He was drunker than shit, and that was the only reason he’d been able to finally admit this.

  I want to kill that fucker.

  During one small lull, she asked. “Does he live around here?”

  “Yeah. Fucker. Rents a house off 41 near Clark Road.”

  That was only about fifteen minutes away. “Did he ever touch Corey?”

  “I don’t think so. I managed to protect him. But…” He shuddered. “Maybe he’s going to try now.”

  “Have you ever talked to Corey about this?”

  “Sort of. I told him don’t ever be alone with the guy. And he…understood. But I think he knows. I think there were a couple of nights I think he was awake when Borden…”

  “Okay…okay. Shh.” She stroked his hair. “I have you, sweetie. I got you. I’m here.” She buried her face in his hair and held on tight. “I’m right here and I’ve got you. And I promise you, he’s not touching you or Corey ever again.”

  Chapter Ten

  Now

  Rusty was looking forward to tonight’s party to take his mind off the world. Being it was at Cali’s, that meant anything went in terms of sexy play. It’d be a much smaller party than usual, too, so the atmosphere would be laid back, relaxed. Only people they knew really well and had known for years, meaning he wouldn’t feel like he had to be on guard. Not that he ever felt unsafe at one of the private parties, that wasn’t it at all. But he knew his closest friends would never judge him and Eliza. At some of the larger private parties, where he might not know everyone there, or not know them well, it was more difficult for him to sometimes relax all the way.

  Eliza could beat the crap out of him tonight, maybe even make him come while she did it, and by the time he finally went to sleep that night he wouldn’t dream the dark thoughts that haunted him still.

  In fact, it was hard for him to think at work today.

  Especially with the damn butt plug Eliza had wedged in his ass after asking him what his day looked like.

  Fortunately, it was an easy day and he didn’t have any clients to talk to, no meetings or phone calls scheduled, just absorbing details from a couple of reports some of their junior analysts had submitted for review before offering them to their clients.

  Easy.

  Well, he was hard.

  Due to the butt plug.

  It wasn’t even mostly the butt plug distracting him today. Wouldn’t be the first, or even the thirty-first time he’d spent the day at work with something up his ass, or a chastity cage locked on him. Not because she thought he’d break any of her rules, but because having one locked on made him hornier than hell, because when he got hard it hurt, which made him horny, which dropped him into an endless cycle of neediness by the time he got home to her.

  And he loved every fucking minute of it.

  Today’s distraction was more wondering why he’d ended up the point of contact for Borden. If Eliza could find that out, no doubt she would, but he didn’t want to get involved in that process.

  And he wondered what the hell he should do with Borden. What level of hell could he create there on earth to satisfy the craving for revenge he still held?

  By the time he returned home that evening, he desperately needed a beating. At the front door he gave Boo her greeting and toed off his loafers before reaching for his belt.

  Eliza made a noise, the kind of “stop it” noise they made at Boo. He looked up and spotted her at the end of the hall, smiling.

  Then realized she’d made the noise at him. “Huh?”

  She walked toward him, and then it registered she’d put on one of the dresses that—yep, hard—always got a reaction out of him. Deep royal blue and nearly ankle length, with a full, flowing skirt and a gauzy overshirt on the top that covered the sleeveless bodice with shimmering black tulle.

  “Want you dressed just like that, barbarian.” She snugged up his tie then grabbed it, easing him down to her for a hello kiss. “The gang’s never seen you dressed up like this.”

  He swallowed hard. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Another peck on the lips. “You can go take out the butt plug. Hurry up. I want to get going.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  She released him and he headed for their bedroom, do not pass go, do not stop to contemplate her orders.

  After he took care of her orders and had washed it and was washing his hands, he glanced at himself in the mirror. Tie and blazer, no different than any other work day. He rarely dressed down in the office even though jeans with button-up dress shirts for men was acceptable on Fridays if not taking any client meetings. Even on the rare days he went in on a weekend, he usually put on a suit, or at the very least khakis and an Oxford shirt or something.

  He always had, from the start. He was dressing the part even when he only had two blazers and two ties and Eliza was washing his dress slacks and shirts for him and pressing them herself to save on dry cleaning expenses.

  When he returned to the living room he noticed she had the implement and rope bags ready, as well as another duffel bag he assumed were clothes. When he started to drop to his knees in front of her, she stopped him with that noise again.

  “You can do that at Cali’s.” She grabbed his tie again and pulled him in for another kiss. “Did I ever tell you how sexy you look in a suit, Dr. McElroy?”

  His cock hardened again. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  She draped her arms around him. “Maybe I should bring you lunch one day next week.”

  He swallowed hard. “Ma’am’s choice.” Last time she had, she’d sat in his chair while he’d knelt under the desk and licked her to a couple of orgasms.

  He’d had to wait to come until he got home.

  Although when he had been promoted several years ago and received his current office, she had come over one evening after everyone else had left and let him fuck her on it, and in his chair, just to mark th
e territory.

  “Get our things loaded, please. You can drive my SUV.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He waited until she’d let go of him and then finished smoothing his rumples to do it.

  She was enjoying keeping him off-balance, he could see it.

  He loved it.

  It always seemed like she knew exactly what he needed and when, or knew enough to let him pick their path those rare times when she wasn’t sure.

  She got the alarm set and locked the house and he had the passenger door open and waiting for her when she reached the vehicle.

  When she sat, he held her hand and helped her in. She hiked up her dress so he could see she wore a garter belt and stockings and he seriously thought he might come right there.

  She winked at him. “Like what you see?”

  “You know I do, Ma’am.”

  “Good boy. Let’s go.”

  He closed her door and hurried around to the driver’s side. He had to adjust the seat all the way back since she was so much shorter than him.

  “I don’t know how much Cali, Max, and Sean are saying to the others about us working with them next weekend,” Eliza said. “So let them be the ones to mention the convention, if they do at all.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He felt his world growing calmer, stress melting away. This always happened.

  She was in charge, and all he had to do was what she told him to. His mind could focus on her and only her.

  It was…a relief.

  “Thank you for not making me wear the T-Rex, Ma’am.”

  She snickered, her hand coming to rest on his thigh. “Well, for starters, you’ve been a good boy. I haven’t needed to engage in behavior modification with you.” She stroked his thigh. “And secondly, it’s not a costume party. But I find it ironic that you won’t mind wearing it at the booth.”

  “Lots of people will be in costumes.”

  “True.”

  “I am a complicated barbarian.”

  She laughed. “Very true. And I love you for it.”