by Kira Barker
I wondered if the bleak feeling that was spreading through my mind was jealousy. It wasn’t like I was a stranger to that—jealousy, of course—but before it had always been a white-hot emotion that singed my every thought and made it almost impossible to focus. Now, I had the opposite problem—I was focusing on way too many things, and none of them came with any kind of strong emotion. More the absence of it. I was sure that I’d never before felt anything similar, and that scared me. What was bringing this on? Was it what Jack and I had talked about before? Did my subconscious now screw with me because a part of me thought he’d want me to react negatively about him getting more attention than me? Or was it something else?
That question quickly pushed everything else out of my mind—which was bad enough as it was, but I felt myself actively start to squirm under Jack’s attention, and not because it was doing something for me, but the complete opposite. I’d been aroused when we knelt down side by side, and watching him have a clearly good time had kept that at a low, simmering level, but now the incessant physical sensation of his lips and tongue working my clit was distracting at best, and weirdly bothersome the more it went on. And that was a sensation I was familiar with, I realized, from years of almost-random hookups every couple of months with one tool or another when that itch really needed to be scratched, but with no hope at actually achieving fulfillment.
And it was that realization that made my heart sink, plant my heel against Jack’s left shoulder, give him enough of a push so I could roll off the bench, and walk out of the room.
Chapter 19
Or attempt to walk out, because my toes had barely touched down on the top step of the stairs when warm fingers wrapped around my arm, and Simon yanked me around to face him, agitation warring with anger on his face.
“Erin, what the fuck?”
That he used my name told me that he had no illusions about what I was up to, and that finally broke that spell of lethargy that had been spreading through my mind over the last hour. Anything was better than that, although I didn’t welcome the returning annoyance and frustration, paired with confusion as it was.
Glaring down at where he was still gripping me, I wrenched my arm free, and because my stance wasn’t defensive enough already, I hugged myself, jutting my chin out.
“Seeing as you clearly don’t need me, I figured I’d leave you two alone. I have something better to do, like, oh, pretty much anything else.”
I knew that it was a slap in his face, but I couldn’t help myself. It also didn’t help that he now looked pissed off rather than guilty, making me wonder if it hadn’t just been casual negligence that he’d been ignoring me.
Just perfect.
“You can’t just walk out of here,” he growled, showing all that emotion that had been missing before.
“Watch me,” I retorted, then continued my path down the stairs, but halted halfway down when I felt him still hulk at the top, behind me. Looking back at him, I forced a tight-lipped smile on my face. “Oh, seeing as you’re such a stickler for protocol, at least with me: red. Am I now allowed to leave, even according to you?”
It was almost comical how he gnashed his teeth, but, if anything, that enraged him even more. At least in that we were running in perfect sync now.
“You’re actually safewording on me because you feel neglected?”
“No, I’m using my safeword because I was feeling uncomfortable and completely out of any headspace even loosely resembling something like arousal,” I shot back. “Isn’t that proper cause enough? That I want to be virtually anywhere else than up there?”
I hated that part of me was waiting for him to break down any second now, to apologize so I could gloat and revel in the attention that got me, a twisted kind of confirmation that he still wanted me and cared for me and—
“So you think you can just act like a brat and force me into compliance? Very mature, Erin, very mature. What’s next? Are you actively going to demand that we dote on you every second that you’re around? Does it always have to be all about you?”
Well, that pretty much backfired—and it didn’t help that I kind of agreed with the scorn ringing in Simon’s voice. I really was acting like a stupid child, but somehow was incapable of reining myself in.
“You know that I would never do that!” I replied, at least hoping that I wasn’t lying there. Was I? This sudden insecurity and doubt really wasn’t making things better. “But there’s a difference between focusing on someone else, and completely neglecting the other!”
Simon locked his jaws as if it was costing him a lot not to just go ahead and scream at me, but trying to get a grip on himself didn’t seem to work so well. That seeing him so angry did what ten minutes of Jack going down on me hadn’t accomplished just made everything so much worse.
“Excuse me for believing that, just once, I could let you two switch roles and have you be the sidekick aiding me,” he ground out when he felt calm enough to reply. “You know, because you’re the more experienced one who might not freak out at every single thing I’m doing?”
“If that’s what you were trying to accomplish, you’re failing massively,” I replied, not caring anymore that I was figuratively foaming at the mouth. “Sidekick, eh? To use me as a sidekick you’d first have to actually use me, not just throw some crumbs to me, for charity’s sake!”
“What?”
Simon’s confusion just made everything worse.
“Seriously? You couldn’t be bothered to, I don’t know, maybe pull me aside—physically, I might add—and tell me in no uncertain terms that today my only use was to be your tool to torment him? Fuck his cock with my face? Tie my fucking hands down so I can’t evade? Make me suffer at least a little with something that gets worse the more you take your time, like the fucking clover clamps? Why do I even have to tell you that?” I raged, and because things weren’t bad enough already, I finished with, “Or is it as easy as the fact that you’re so lovestruck with him that you can’t even be bothered to care at all for me?”
And with that, ladies and gentlemen, we’d definitely hit rock bottom.
Simon just stared at me, his mouth opening and closing without a sound making it over his lips, but really, that was the absolutely worst reaction he could have had. Even him laughing me in the face would have been better. But dumbstruck surprise slowly twisting into realization that I was telling the truth? That was pretty much the only thing I hadn’t expected, and simply couldn’t take, as I realized, much too late.
Abstractly, I thought that this was the perfect moment to dissolve into tears, but that was about the furthest thing from my mind. Anger was dwindling inside of me as if my own words had opened the flood gates, but it wasn’t sorrow that was left behind, but just that damn empty feeling that crushed my soul. There was a little pain mixed into that, the by now too-familiar ache that came from being afraid that, whatever he told me, I’d never be enough, that somehow things would always remain in uncertain purgatory between us, too hot to be just friends, but lukewarm where deeper feelings were concerned. I could see my own fears mirrored in his gaze, so raw and open that it broke my heart all over again.
And because taking the high road wasn’t my thing, something dark, twisted, and cruel made me utter that one fact that my mind was clinging on to for dear life.
“But you are aware that he’s in love with me, right? That if, for whatever reason, I decide that I’m done with you, he’ll stay with me, and you’ll be all alone.”
When I turned around and walked away, Simon didn’t hold me back.
I didn’t bother with waiting until the shower turned hot but stepped directly under the spray, feeling my skin break out in goose bumps with the sudden blast of cool water. My motions were jerky as I washed up, but when that didn’t make me feel better—or feel anything, for that matter—I halted and just held my face up into the spray, letting it course down my head and entire body.
I knew that I should have felt guilty. Being annoyed—an
d hurt—was one thing, but it didn’t give me the right to lash out like that. And it really wasn’t like me to do that in the first place. Sure, foot-in-mouth moments happened all the time, but this was different. I’d been fully aware just how deep my words would cut him, all the more so because they were true. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know how easy it would be for Simon to internalize them and let them fester and grow, slowly souring everything we had, and not stopping at the boundaries of our friendship. More so, he was still my Dom and should have made damn sure that he didn’t actively push me out of a scene, so there was that, too. Although, I couldn’t hold it against him if that concern didn’t take precedence tonight.
No one disturbed my shower, but not hearing a single sound in the house once I shut off the water didn’t help the churning in my stomach. I felt physically ill, and that it was my own fault didn’t help. I dried off quickly, then peeked out into the hallway, finding it empty. With the towel still wrapped around my body, I ducked into the bedroom, hurrying to find acceptable clothes and pulling them on. I was just straightening from stepping into my panties when the bathroom door slammed shut, making me jump.
So much for acting civil.
The hallway was once again empty, but I could hear the sounds of the shower running. Stepping just a little lightly, I walked into the living room, yet when I found it empty, I simply grabbed my laptop and flopped down on the couch, stretching out there to indicate in no certain terms that I wanted to be left alone.
The shift change in the back of the house happened a few minutes later when the bedroom door gave a loud bang, and the bathroom door fell into the lock somewhat more softly. I could only guess who was trying to decimate all the wood in the house to kindling, and that didn’t really help lighten my mood. The fact that for the first time since I’d moved in I realized that I was the only one who didn’t have a nook of my own to retreat into occurred to me, further hammering down the sense that I was the guest, the observer, but not part of the core unit that made up this home, didn't help.
How quickly things could change.
Endless minutes of staring at the screen without seeing anything later, the bathroom door opened again, then the bedroom door, following by the quiet tones of a brief—and not exactly amicable—exchange of words, and about a minute later Jack fell into the couch cushions beside me, wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I pointedly ignored him, which made me feel incredibly stupid, but at least he wasn’t glaring daggers at me. Yet.
Then Simon came stomping out of the hallway, bristling like a cat. He didn’t even look in my general direction but his annoyance and anger were visible in every motion, like when he seemed to want to tear off the fridge door as he yanked it open. I’d never heard anyone actually slamming a milk carton back into place after filling a bowl for cereal, which was consequently decimated with a vengeance that no breakfast-for-dinner meal ever deserved. Even the crunching sound of his chewing sounded defiant and pissed off to me. But maybe I was projecting, just a little.
Jack—his back to the spectacle—kept staring at his tablet stoically while he twitched with every exaggerated sound Simon made, until he put away the device and stared at me until I stopped avoiding his gaze.
“What did you say to him to make him act like, well, this?”
Of course there swung a level of accusation in his voice, but I deserved that. Kind of. That didn’t mean that I felt like backing down, or even admitting guilt, though.
“Nothing,” I replied, trying to sound cool and detached, but I couldn’t hold in a small squeal when Simon pretty much slammed the—presumably empty—bowl into the sink.
“Because that’s all she ever does—say nothing,” he growled, then turned around, his hands pressed into the edge of the kitchen island. I could see how white his knuckles were even across the room. He was seething, and holding his gaze took a lot, but then my own anger returned, pushing away my guilt to where I could easily ignore it. “Because it would kill her to speak up about anything for once in her fucking life!”
“Oh, you’re one to talk!” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at him.
“At least I know where I stand, no thanks to you, and I’m not continually lying to myself.”
“No, you’re just shoving your winning self into everyone’s face and expect them to deal with it, whether they want to or not!” Even I didn’t know what I wanted to say with that, but it had sounded good inside my head.
Jack remained where he was, stoically listening to us shout at each other straight over his head, but at that he gave a small sigh.
Simon ignored him, instead assaulting the fridge for a glass of OJ.
“Well, screw you!” he replied when he was facing me again.
“Oh, I wish, because neither of you is doing a good job at that.”
A frown appeared on Jack’s face as he looked up sharply at that. “Don’t pull me into your bullshit.”
Like he was so innocent. “Without your screwed-up idea none of this would have happened, so don’t even pretend that you’re not part of the problem,” I hissed at him.
“At least I’m the only one not acting like a fucking lunatic,” he bit back, showing that he wasn’t half as calm as he pretended to be.
I glared at him but chose not to reply, and before Simon could get in another barb, his phone went off, making the three of us jump collectively.
“Yeah?” he picked up with after scowling at the display, sounding only a thread less hostile than he had toward me. A quick pause followed as the caller replied, after which he visibly gnashed his teeth for a moment. “Sure, come over. I have nothing better to do all evening.” He put the phone away after hanging up, if anything adding fuel to the flames licking at my sanity.
I wondered who had been calling. Kara came to mind, but she usually texted. Besides, she would have bitten his head off had he used that kind of tone with her.
I only had about half a minute to wonder before the door bell rang, providing another scare, but it was better than the deadly silence that had fallen in between. Or so I thought, until the ever perky Miss Alva sashayed in, wearing heels that were high enough to make even Kara do a double take, and something that was not even an excuse for a tight, little black dress.
“Hi, Simon, so glad you have time for me,” she chirped, smiling brightly at him—until she became aware of Jack and me holding down the fort on the couch. Any other day it would have been comically funny to see her face fall. “Oh, your roommates are home? I hope I’m not disturbing anything?” She added a coy laugh to her coquettish simper, already turning away from us, a clear dismissal. That she used the plural made me guess that Simon had since updated her on our living arrangements.
Of course, of all the times she chose to drop her already not very professional demeanor and let the slut hang out, it had to be tonight. My not exactly low-simmering rage immediately found a new target, but much to my surprise, Simon didn’t react as I—and obviously she, too—had expected. If anything, he looked even more pissed off than before, immediately dropping the civil facade he’d donned at her arrival.
“Alva, may I ask you a question?”
“You? Always, of course,” she simpered, clearly missing the hard undertones in his voice.
“Why do you keep hitting on me when I haven’t shown even an ounce of interest in you, ever?”
A very good question, and I had to admit that it spoke for Simon that he had been a lot less oblivious about her behavior than I’d previously thought. Right then I wasn’t ready to count that in his favor, but it was something.
Alva looked perplexed for a moment, but she immediately caught herself. “Oh, I’m not… you think I’m—“
“Let me spare you the embarrassment of lying to my face on top of everything else, because, trust me, no one in this room is believing your very ineloquent protestations,” he replied, his voice getting sharper by the sentence. He briefly glanced in our direction but avoided making eye contact—probably for the better. �
�Let me ask you another question. Do you notice something about the three of us? Like the fact that we’re all still sporting dripping wet hair from the shower? And we didn’t need it because we were out running, just a hint.”
Alva was a lot brighter than I gave her credit for, because it only took her a moment to make the connection. Or maybe all the hostile glares she’d caught from me over the past months finally made sense. Not that said hostility was reserved for her right now, as my anger flamed up with new fuel to fan the flames.
Coming to my feet, I stared at Simon, needing a moment to actually manage to get my voice box to work.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you even think for a moment before you spew out the first thing that is on your mind?” And because that really wasn’t enough by far, I couldn’t leave it at just that. “Of all the people you have to out us to, it has to be her!?”
Although he must still be seething with anger, Simon’s smile was cold and controlled as he directed it at me.
“Well, Kara knows. As does Beth. And everyone else who was at that play party in the local dungeon. That must have been what, a hundred and fifty to two hundred people?”
I hadn’t thought it possible that you could feel yourself blanch, but I could feel every drop of blood leave my face. And Simon just continued to stare at me, clearly satisfied by how hard that blow hit home.
That was just too much.
Instead of trying to escalate this further, I whipped around and stalked back into the bedroom, already tearing my outer layer of clothes off before the door had swung shut behind me. My jeans still lay discarded where they’d landed after I’d come home, so I just threw them on, then put on a light top and grabbed my purse, picking up my phone and keys on the way to the front door. I didn’t even try to look in Simon’s direction, but it was impossible to miss the smirk on his face as he called after me.
