Book Read Free

Mustang Daddy - A Single Daddy, Small Town Second Chance Romance

Page 95

by Sienna Parks


  “Well, maybe that’s something you should be working on with her, instead of passing judgment on us.”

  She has really done it now.

  “HOW DARE YOU QUESTION ME, OR MY SUBMISSIVE! She is worth a thousand of you. She is strong-willed, but obedient in every way. Don’t even look in her direction. And as for questioning me, I’m not the one whose submissive was touching a helpless, vulnerable, FUCKING STRANGER! It’s beyond deplorable! What they did here tonight, was against basic human decency. You do not touch anyone in that way, especially in her bound vulnerable state, without their express permission, or that of their Master. There is something seriously fucking wrong with you if you think that this is a training issue. I’m disgusted and horrified that you would play this down as a simple lack of discipline. These men assaulted my submissive, and should be caned until they bleed. I gave STRICT instructions that she must not be touched. You should be ashamed of yourselves, and this club. I will make sure that none of the Masters I know will ever set foot in here again.”

  “What can we do, Master Fitzgerald?”

  “What you can do… Giselle,” I refuse to call her Mistress, she doesn’t deserve the title or the respect it commands, “is get those fuckers out of my sight before I kill them, because the way I feel right now, I would literally rip their beating hearts out of their chests and make them eat it.”

  “I am to be addressed as Mistress, Master Fitzgerald.”

  Her voice is dripping with disdain, but shaking in fear. She should be afraid of me. I have never been so angry in all my life.

  “Well fucking earn it then, because from what I’ve seen here tonight, you’re not fit to have the honor of the title. Now get the fuck out of my sight.”

  They look at each other, shocked and appalled, and scared, before making a quick exit without another word. The club Master remains, only long enough for me to tell him to call me a cab, and get the fuck out.

  My heart is racing, adrenaline coursing through me as I try to calm myself down, Vittoria still nestled quietly in my arms. All I can do is apologize to her, over and over, and it doesn’t escape my attention that she never answers my question – can she forgive me? I don’t blame her. I will never forgive myself.

  It’s not until we’re safely ensconced in our hotel room that Vittoria finally speaks to me. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t ever apologize to me. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I freaked out. Overreacted. It was a trigger for me… for my past.”

  I kneel in front of her as she sits perched on the end of the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?” I place my hands on her legs to offer comfort, but her body tenses underneath me, and it’s a dagger to my heart.

  “I… I can’t. Not tonight. I’m exhausted. I just want to wash off this dirty feeling, and crawl into bed.”

  “Okay. I won’t push you. Just know that I’m here when you’re ready to talk to me. I’ll go and fill the tub for you.” She doesn’t respond, lost in her own thoughts, so I leave her and head to the bathroom.

  I stare at myself in the mirror while the taps are running, wondering who I am, and how I could have let Vittoria down so badly. I scrub my hands over my face and up into my hair, breathing deeply to try and calm the storm raging inside of me. I need to man the fuck up, and be there for her. Whatever she needs from me, I’ll give it to her. Whatever I need to do to make this right, I will.

  She hasn’t moved a muscle in the time I’ve been gone; staring blankly at the wall in front of her.

  “The bath’s ready.” She doesn’t move, or react in any way. I don’t want to startle her. “Vittoria, baby, I’m going to lift you into the bathroom now.” Gently, I wrap my arms underneath her and carry her into the bathroom, carefully undressing her before doing the same myself. I pick her up and step into the tub, slowly lowering both of us down into the water. The silence is deafening, but after a few minutes, I feel her body relax against mine, her head resting on my chest. I grab the sponge from the side of the tub and tenderly lather her skin, washing away the dirt from our disastrous night.

  “I love you, Logan.”

  Those four little words, cut into the silence, causing my heart to swell in my chest, and my stomach to churn with guilt for what happened tonight. I tighten my grip, scared to let her go. “I love you, too, so much I can barely breathe. I… I’m so sorry.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Don’t say…” She cuts me off.

  “Listen to me. I am sorry, because, if I could find a way to open up and tell you about my past, then this might not have happened. I know it’s hard for you, when you don’t know everything about me. You can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known that something like this would happen, or how I would react to it. For that, I’m sorry, but I just can’t. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  She’s right, but it doesn’t make me feel any better, when the sounds of her screaming for me are so fresh in my mind, tormenting me every second of every minute. If I had known a situation like that could be a trigger for her and cause some sort of panic attack, I never would have put her in that position. I don’t know how to protect her when I don’t know what I’m supposed to be protecting her from.

  “I told you before – as long as you’re working towards telling me, then I need to be okay with that. But, Vittoria, don’t ever do anything because you think it’s what I want, not if it puts you at risk for triggering bad memories. I don’t want you to please me when it’s detrimental to your wellbeing. I love you. Whether you say yes or no to something I ask of you, I will always love you. There is nothing on this earth that would make me stop loving you. You need to know that. Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand, Master.”

  I lift her chin, my lips finding hers in a plea for forgiveness, for redemption. “Please, call me Logan. I want to hear my name on your sweet lips.”

  “Make love to me… Logan. I need you tonight. I need to lose myself for a little while, and you’re the only person that can help me do that. Please.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, or take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable.”

  She caresses my cheek with her bubble soaked hand, her eyes soft and loving. “I’m not hurt. They didn’t hurt me, and they weren’t touching me in a sexual way. They were in awe of your work, which was truly stunning. Mine was an emotional response… to…”

  “To your past.”

  “Yes. You’re not taking advantage of me. I’m asking you to love me. To show me how much you love me, and to help me chase away my nightmares. I want to fall asleep in your arms and enjoy the rest of our time together before we’re separated by oceans and continents again. Please, Logan. Make love to me.”

  “I could never deny you, little one.” I lift her out of the water and dry her off, before gathering her back up into my arms and out into the bedroom.

  We make love into the early hours of the morning; no restraints, no rules, just us and the all-consuming love that we share.

  Three months later

  I extended my trip to Paris, staying another week with Vittoria. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her after what happened, and I think she was relieved when I told her I wasn’t heading back so soon, although, she would never admit it to me. She always puts up a strong front, very rarely letting her guard down; but when she does, it’s like being given the key to heaven. A breathtaking sight to behold.

  She only had a few days off between shows, but we made the most of them, taking in the sights of Paris. We’ve both travelled to the city before, on numerous occasions, but there’s something about sharing it with someone you love. It transforms into something magical, a true city of romance. We spent hours just walking and talking, holding hands and sipping coffee in the elegant cafés that can be found on every street. It took time, but we found our rhythm; the events at Club Désir, becoming a distant memory as we enjoyed each other as friends, and lovers.
r />   I thoroughly enjoyed using my Boy Scout innovation skills to transform our hotel room into a temporary playroom, using the desk as a flogging table, the wrought iron artwork on the walls providing anchors for me to tether Vittoria with ties, creating a rudimentary form of a cross to restrain her in an upright position. In the end, I had to put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door to stop housekeeping from walking in on the furniture moved, and makeshift restraints hanging from the walls! It was fantastic.

  We ate in some of the most amazing restaurants, off the beaten track, not the usual tourist areas which are always bustling. We shared breakfast in bed, Vittoria providing a beautifully naked platter for me to eat from.

  By the time I had to go back to reality, back to work, and out of Vittoria’s orbit, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t want her coming to the airport with me, leaving her to make her way back into Paris on her own. I made her promise to let me leave from the hotel, where we could say a proper goodbye. I got up early, ordered her favorite breakfast of blueberry pancakes, and wrote her a letter to open after I left, leaving it taped to the bathroom mirror so she would find it.

  I gave her an intense pleasure spanking before breakfast, forcing her to stay completely naked, for my perusal, to see the blush of my handprint on her pretty little ass. She sat in my lap, feeding me as I reciprocated, making sure she ate every last bite, her satisfied moans making my cock twitch. Then, I took her back to bed and made love to her, until she was screaming my name, begging her Master for more, for harder, forever. She drifted off into a sated and peaceful sleep, nestled in my arms, before I slipped out of bed, dressed, and kissed her softly, drinking in her scent, memorizing it to tide me over until the next time she’s in my arms.

  I left her there three months ago, my sleeping beauty, and that’s the image I hold in my thoughts, every night when I go to bed, alone, my heart heavy with the burden of distance between us.

  The tour has been a major success, the guys have won over every city they’ve played in; the crowds growing as word spreads about the amazingly talented, Flaming Embers. We’re about to start the final leg of the tour, hitting twenty-five major cities throughout America, and with the momentum behind them right now, we have offers coming in from radio stations and talk shows from all over the country, asking to interview the boys. It’s going to be a grueling month, but at the end of it, I get to see Vittoria. I’m going to take a few months off and fly with her wherever she’s travelling. I don’t care if I have to live out of a suitcase again, I just want to be with her. It’s been too long since we were last together.

  I’ve been trying to make our schedules work, giving her numerous dates that I could have flown out for the weekend to be with her, but she always has something going on: promo, extra shows, or plans that she can’t get out of. At first I just put it down to bad luck and sucky timing, but as the weeks have gone by, she’s becoming more withdrawn, her excuses seeming more and more implausible. I thought things were good with us when I left Paris, but now I’m beginning to wonder. She called me the second I landed to thank me for the letter I left her. We were on FaceTime with each other every day for those first few weeks, talking and laughing as if we were in the same room together, but then it stopped – like a switch being turned off. I couldn’t get ahold of her on the phone for days. She would send me short text messages to say that she was fine, and sorry that she missed my calls. I took solace in the fact that I knew she was safe, and that nothing had happened to her. If I hadn’t heard from her, I would have been on the first plane out, to make sure she was okay.

  It’s been like that for a while now. She goes through phases of calling me, hyper and excited about the next time we’ll be together, laughing and joking, and then, when I suggest some dates that I could make it happen, she shuts down. I’ve asked her on a few occasions if she’s met someone, or if she’s changed her mind about us and our long-distance relationship. I know how hard it is, and I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to find a Master who could be with her more often. What kind of Master can I really be to her when I’m thousands of miles away, for months at a time? I love her with everything that I am, but is it enough?

  This past week she hasn’t called me back, my only communication with her has been via text message, until tonight. It had been eight days since I’d last heard her voice, and I was really starting to worry about her. Speaking to her didn’t allay those fears in any way, so I’ve decided that I’m going to fly out to Italy. I have a few days off coming up, and I still have her schedule, which says she’ll be there until next week. It should be easy enough to find her, all I need to do is go to the theater where she’s performing. I’ll worry about how pissed she’s going to be, later. I’m past the point of giving her the benefit of the doubt. She’s shutting me out again, and I don’t know why.

  Something’s going on, and I intend to find out what.

  It needs to stop.

  The pain, the nightmares, I need the agony to stop.

  I need to make it all… just… stop.

  I can’t keep lying to everyone; to my family; to my friends; to Logan. He deserves so much better. I can’t even look at him right now, and I know he’s starting to get suspicious. It’s been two months since I spoke to him on FaceTime. It’s easy enough to do when he’s on tour with the band, and I’m supposedly on tour with the ballet, but I’m running out of excuses.

  It’s getting hard to even hear his voice. The past two weeks, I’ve faked missing his calls, watching his handsome face flash on my screen until it goes to voicemail. I’ve become a master of deceit. I wait until it’s late wherever he is, and then I text him to apologize for missing his call. Then, I promise that I’ll speak to him the next day. Once or twice he’s still been out partying with the guys, and I’ve been forced to speak to him, but I keep it brief. I feign rehearsals, or tiredness, or being out with Luca. None of that is true.

  Without Logan, the nightmares are back, worse than ever. Since my injury in Prague, they’ve been happening more often, but now, after the shibari demonstration in Paris, it’s every night, without fail. I wake up screaming, clawing at the man I believe is on top of me. The nightmares are becoming more intense, and it’s not just reliving that awful memory. Now, I’m an adult in the dream, and I’m in a BDSM club, or I’m at rehearsals, or I’m alone in my apartment back in New York. He’s everywhere, and I can never fight him off, no matter how hard I struggle. No one can hear me, because when I scream for help, scream for Logan, no sound comes out. Since the morning he left Paris, I’ve been plagued by what can only be described as night terrors.

  It’s terrifying, and horrific, and I can’t escape it.

  I don’t eat, I don’t sleep. I left my friends behind months ago. It’s just me, in this hotel room, alone in my despair. I don’t answer calls from Carter or my parents. I send them emails of my fake travels, saying I’ll be in touch when my schedule calms down. I know if Carter heard my voice, he would know, he would come and get me, but I can’t put him through that. I won’t. He’s done enough for me, given up so much for so long. His life is finally working out the way it should. He has the perfect family, and I won’t be responsible for him having to choose between them and me. He’s hardwired to protect me, and it almost broke him. It’s for the best that he doesn’t know.

  I feel terrible for all the lies that I’ve told Logan over the last two months. It kills me every time the words slip past my lips, but I can’t see any other way to deal with it. The sexy, raspy tone of his voice, cuts deep into my soul, making me ache for him. I know that if I told him what happened, he’d be on the first flight out here, leaving behind everything he’s worked so hard for, to be with me. I can’t do that to him. I can’t do that to me. I don’t want to see the pity in his eyes. I thought I would get better, that I would get my shit together, and I would go home to him, to our life together, but that won’t happen now. I can’t see a way out anymore – at least, not one that will bring us back to each other. The
re’s only one way out of this misery. For all intents and purposes, my life ended two months ago, and all that’s left for me, is to complete the task.

  Two Months Ago

  “I’m so sorry, Miss de Rossi. There’s nothing more we can do.”

  Luca is by my side, squeezing my hand as the doctor delivers the news.

  “I’ve repaired your ankle as best I could, enough to allow you to walk without a limp, but I’m afraid the injury was extensive. You won’t be able to continue with ballet professionally. Dancing through the pain for so long has caused irreparable damage.”

  “Maybe if I take six months off? Then I could dance again?”

  “You don’t understand. If you continue to dance, you’ll be in a wheelchair within a year. It’s remarkable that you aren’t already. You were very lucky.”

  I struggle out of Luca’s embrace, the sight of his tears, a knife ripping through my insides.

  “Lucky… you think I’m lucky?!! Ballet is all I care about. It’s who I am. Without it, I’m nothing. Worthless.”

  “I know it feels like that now, but you’re a young woman, with a lot to live for. When you come to terms with this, you’ll realize that you are so much more than a dancer. I’m sure you have many people in your life that love you no matter what you do, including the man standing next to you. I’ll leave you to digest all of this. A nurse will be in later to go over your rehabilitation program with you.”

  As the doctor closes the door behind him, my world falls apart. Everything I knew, gone. Just… gone. Luca tries to console me, but I can’t bear to see him cry.

  “Please go. I need some time.”

  “I’m not leaving you. Ballerina or not, you will always be my Vittoria bella. I love you, and I’m here for you.” He moves to give me a hug, but the pity in his eyes is my undoing.

  “Get the hell out. I don’t want you here. You’re everything that I can’t have anymore. You’re a bad reminder, and I can’t even look at you. Get out… get out… get out!!”

 

‹ Prev