Secrets & Lies: A Domestic Discipline Novella

by Serena Akeroyd

  “Get on with it,” she snapped, pursing her lips in irritation.

  Gabe grimaced. “Terry knows the way I feel about you. He played on it when he came to me with this crazy notion of helping you out as a couple. I swear to God, that first time, I thought I was...I thought you knew. I thought he’d told you what I was into, and that you wanted to experience submission with a Dom who could be trusted and who knew what he was doing. And then, you whispered his name, and I knew he’d lied.”

  She raised a hand and rubbed at her temples. “Why does this have to be so complicated?”

  “Love triangles always are.”

  “I didn’t...love isn’t what I felt for Terry. He was like living with a child. At the end, I guess I was starting to feel less and less his girlfriend,” she whispered. “I didn’t want him to kiss me softly or to pat my back like a dog—I wanted him to fuck me. To take me like he did every Friday night.”

  He firmed his lips, hating to hear her talk about his brother like that. Gabe knew he’d never had any rights over her; he’d always known that. Terry had beaten him by asking her out first, that was it, but still, it had always grated on him.

  “The first time we met, in that club, you were wearing a green wrap-around dress. I can still see it now. You were wincing because your heels were killing you, but you still looked sexy as hell. And I remember you had those earrings, those dangly ones, that fell all the way past your shoulder... They were green too, like those Swarovski crystals, you know? Every move you made, they entangled in your hair.” He smiled. “Your hair looked like it was entwined with dancing lights. You were magnificent,” he finished softly, the memory still fresh like it had happened yesterday and not years ago.

  She shook her head, eyes widening. “You remember that?”

  “I told you, Meg, I saw you first. I wanted you first.”

  “I’m not sure what to say,” she replied, her tone uneasy.

  “I didn’t tell you that to make you uncomfortable, dammit. I told you so it would make sense why I did what I did. I remember what you wore all those years ago, Meg, do you think it went away? Do you think I stopped looking at you?

  “And then, Terry gave me permission to do more than that. He begged me to give you what you needed, something he wasn't capable of giving you. That first time, I swear, I thought you knew it was me. It killed me when you said his name. When you thought he was touching you. Why do you think I made you call me Sir?” He ran a hand through his hair, agitation riding him hard at the memories flooding his brain. “Those Friday nights were some of the best and some of the worst of my life. You were so attuned to me. The connection between us was immense, and you? You thought I was my brother.” Maybe she saw how devastating that had been for him, because he swore he saw a softening in her eyes.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this straight away? That first time, if you realized I thought you were Terry?”

  “When a man’s allowed to enter heaven, he doesn’t request the key to hell’s door. I'm no saint, and I make no bones about that.”

  She flushed. “That’s coming on a little strong, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” Gabe shrugged off her remark. He realized her dismissive words came from a position of self-protection, and he couldn't blame her for wanting to shield herself from him and his intensity. “But I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m weird where you’re concerned, Meg. And it isn’t to do with being denied, or Terry stealing you away and making me want you more. It’s about you and me. Together. I know we’re a good fit. In every which way.”

  “We’ve hardly spent any time together,” she reasoned. “How can you know that?”

  “Sex is one thing, and the chemistry between us is explosive. You can’t deny that.”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t, but there’s more to being a good fit than sex.”

  “Then get to know me. Let me get to know you.”

  “How can I trust you?” she snapped.

  “Because I only did what I did to be close to you. To give you what I knew you needed, just like I need to make you feel that way... I know how it feels to be unfulfilled. Terry couldn’t give you that, but I could. And if that was the only way I could get close to you, then I was going to grab it with both hands. Condemn me for it because I know I made bad choices, but I’m not a bad man.

  “Terry is the douche bag in this. He lied to us both. I know I perpetuated the lie, but still, I’m only a man. A weak one, but again, not a bad one.” When she stayed quiet, he murmured, “You don’t have to believe that from the off, but please, give me the opportunity to prove myself. I won’t let you down.”

  She eyed him. “Why should I want to get to know you?”

  “Because if we let the connection between us disappear, then it’ll be the biggest shame this side of Christendom.”

  Meg reached for her can again and took a deep sip. As she drank, he watched the muscles in her throat play then continued watching as she nervously passed the tin from one hand to another.

  In those moments, he felt like he was at the guillotine. Waiting for the blade to fall. Maybe it was a dramatic comparison, but he’d never felt more serious.

  He wasn’t lying when he said there was something about her. Something about Meg that was made for him. She was his Achilles' heel. A weakness he cherished.

  Gabe wasn’t a religious man, didn’t believe in soul mates, and he’d never been actively looking to settle down... until Meg.

  She made him think things, believe in stuff that made no sense to the Gabe of old.

  She fucked with his mind, twisted his senses into a huge knot. Everything about her was made to fit him, and once she realized that, once she stopped fighting it, he knew he could make up for all the shit he’d done to her, for all the shit he’d caused her.

  “I can’t trust you, Gabe,” she whispered eventually, her eyes on the can.

  “No, you can’t trust me yet. You don’t know me, Meg. You haven’t gotten to know me as anything other than Terry’s younger brother. Date me, let me wine and dine you, and do what I should have been able to do all those years ago.”

  She studied him a second, her eyes searching his face for something... he wasn't sure what. Meg must have found it though, because her nod was slow in coming, but it was in the affirmative nonetheless. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes.”

  He blew out a breath. “You won’t regret this, Meg.”

  “This is your last chance, Gabe, and it’s a chance I’m not sure I should even be giving you so make sure I don’t regret it. This is it, no more. After this, if it doesn’t work out, we’re done.” Her jaw firmed. “I’ve never been more serious in all my life.”

  Chapter Five

  When the words rang free, they felt portentous, and faintly ridiculous. He wanted to date her, not marry her. But his seriousness summoned up thoughts of earlier, memories of his lips against hers, of all the Friday nights they’d spent together at the club.

  He was right. They did have a connection. Hiding from it wouldn’t make it go away. She’d felt it every time they’d met, and parting from it, and returning to the vaguely dissatisfying life she’d led with Terry had grown harder with every passing week.

  Something about Gabe was hardwired into her system. It made her spark, and even though she was still hurt, even though she didn’t know if she’d ever trust him, if it were even possible after what he’d done, she had to try. The connection they shared was too strong to let it go to waste without at least trying to overcome their issues.

  “It’s been a long day,” she murmured when she knew he understood how serious she was. “I have a longer day to get through tomorrow. I need to go to bed.”

  He nodded. “I get that. I’ll leave. But, would you like to go out with me on Friday?”

  “I don’t want to go to the club,” she immediately snapped, a blush tinging her cheeks with a ferocity that made her feel their slow burn.

  “I wasn’t going to take you there,” he r
eplied, as soft as silk. She knew he was telling the truth, because, even though he wasn’t aggressive, there was a faint bite of irritation to his words. “I’m not a complete idiot, Meg. Look, I broke a major rule when I did what I did. Without trust, between a Sir and His sub, there’s nothing. It might take me a lifetime to gain it back, but I’m willing to do whatever I have to, to make sure you trust me with yourself again. Do you understand?”

  Slowly, she nodded. It wasn't his words; it was the tone. Even though she didn't want to think about it, she recognized the pitch from the club, and like a stiletto in the side, it pierced her defenses, left her wide open to his attack…did he know that? Had he spoken that way on purpose to fuck with her head all the more? If that was the case, it had worked. Damn him.

  “I understand.”

  “Good. Now, be ready for seven. Dress smart-casual.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He tapped his nose. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out. I’ll be on my way. Sleep well, Meg, and thank you for this... I swear to God, you’ll never regret it.”

  When he turned on his heel and started down the hall, Meg watched, slightly astounded, as he just left. No come on, no hints at anything sexual other than his apologies at what he’d done, at how he’d broken her trust.

  She hadn’t expected that, and that was no lie.

  Had a part of her been looking forward to his kiss? Silently waiting for it and for him to make his move?

  The thought made her already fiery cheeks burn hotter, and she pressed the cool can to the heat.

  The notion made her realize how right he was about the two of them. Together, they were combustible. She could feel the scorch even as he banged the front door shut. Even as she felt stupid as hell for letting him back into her life.

  Jumping down from the counter, she made her way to the door to lock up for the night. As she did, she peered out one of the windows, which lined the jamb, listened as his engine started and watched as his lights came on.

  However, she’d envisaged the day ending this morning, it hadn’t been with Gabe leaving her house with the promise of a date lingering between them.

  Maybe she was nuts. Hell, according to Sam, she was.

  Amused at the notion of Sam judging anyone as insane when he was battier than her Aunty Linda who’d joined in with the bra-burning back in the Sixties—not because she was a feminist, of course, but because she’d gotten off on flashing during the protests. Exhibitionist, anyone?

  Chuckling at the thought, Meg dug around for her cell in the purse she’d dumped on her way in, and called him, keeping her eyes trained on Gabe's lights as he made his way off her street.

  “See, I keep my promises,” she told him by way of a greeting.

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make out like I was the one keeping huge ass secrets from my best friend.”

  She sniffed, because she had to admit to feeling better after telling him the truth about the situation with Gabe. “Can you blame me? Knowing what you do now?” At his hesitation, she jumped at the chance to say, “See. I knew it! It’s humiliating, Sam. In fact, it’s one of the worst things that has ever happened to me.”

  “That’s because you’re a straight, white girl,” he told her, a wry note to his tone. She didn’t take umbrage though, because he was right. Sam was no longer welcome in his family because not only was he gay, he was also a transvestite.

  As such, in the Lee household, he was persona non grata.

  In fact, his mother had told him she wished he’d died at birth.

  Go fucking figure.

  Shaking her head as she always did when she thought of Sam’s family, a family she’d known for as long as she’d known her friend, and one who’d cast her out because she hadn’t shied away from their son for his 'perversions', Meg murmured, “I know, I know. I’ve had it easy.”

  “I’m being a hard case,” he countered. “I know it’s tough. What they did to you was so out of order I want to rip off their balls on your behalf.”

  Smirking, she retorted, “I would have paid to see you do that to Terry. Just FYI.”

  Sam’s silence was telling. “But not Gabe?” He huffed. “Well, I’ll be damned. He had a good explanation for being a complete and utter bastard?”

  “I guess. I don’t know really. I could be stupid for listening at all.”

  “What did he have to say?” When Meg revealed Gabe’s explanation, Sam grunted. “Terry, I never did like that son of a bitch. What a mean thing to do to ask you out just to get one over on his brother. Although I can see him doing that, just like I could see him pulling the wings off flies as a kid. Not that having Terry for a brother makes up for Gabe doing what he did to you.” He huffed again. “I mean, what I know about BDSM comes from FSOG, but still, I know a Dom isn’t supposed to do stuff like that. How can you trust him again after such a huge betrayal?”

  “And there you have my predicament, Sam.”

  “Well, apparently not if you don’t want to mount his balls on the fireplace.”

  She chuckled. But as thoughts of their earlier kiss filled her mind, she sobered. “He kissed me this afternoon. It reminded me of the Fridays when we were together. God, Sam, the things he made me feel...they just came rushing back.

  “I could never understand why, after we left the club, that connection just dropped. Kissing Terry every other day of the week was like kissing a wet fish. But on Friday? A simple peck could set me alight. He reminded me of that today. Just blowing him off, letting him leave my life when he’s capable of making me feel so much...it seemed incredibly churlish.”

  Sam hooted. “Churlish isn’t the right word, Meg. He’s got you by the ovaries, and that’s no mistake.”

  “Like you’ve never been pulled along by your dick,” she snapped, offended enough to stride over to the fridge and pull out a bag of Hershey’s Kisses. Shoving the phone against her ear, she opened the bag, grumbling when it split a little, but grabbing some chocolate, she shoved it in her mouth. It didn’t stop her from saying around the overloaded mouthful, “In fact, I know of three different occasions when your dick has had more control over your life than you have.”

  He sniffed. “I’m a guy. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean to say I don’t have two brains.” Sam laughed at his own words. “I sound like such a tool.”

  “Yeah, you do,” she inserted, but with a smile.

  “Bitch,” he told her without rancor. “But, I guess it makes it a big deal if you’ve listened and actually heard what he had to say.”

  “He told me he wanted to make amends, Sam. I just...I couldn’t say no. Not after that kiss.”

  He sighed. “I don’t want him to hurt you. Again. It's taken you so long to deal with this enough to tell me about it. And by the sounds of it, Gabe has more power over you than Terry ever did. I guess...I-I'm nervous for you, sweetheart.”

  “I know, me too, but I’m not sure if he can hurt me any more than he already has. I’m still hurting; that hasn’t gone away. I know, I know, in comparison to the rest of my bland, straight, white-girl existence, this is a stroll in the park, but... it’s hard, Sam. Really hard.

  “When I let myself go with Terry, when I opened up to what I enjoyed, I put my faith in him. More so than when I let him move in with me, or when we decided we were going to get married.

  “Admitting to him what I needed, was like putting all of my hopes and dreams into a box and giving it to him wrapped with a ribbon. I was opening myself up, parts of me that even you didn't know about until today, and when it went so well, it was like the icing on the cake.”

  “But knowing how he betrayed that, you just can’t get over how vulnerable you were.”

  At his understanding words, she sighed. “Yeah. I don’t ever want to feel like that again. If Gabe does make amends, and we work on that connection we have together, how can I ever be so vulnerable with him when we decide we want to revisit Friday nights again?”

  “There’s no right or wrong
answer to that, sweetheart. You just have to see how it goes. Play the game, let him date you. Treat you like a queen. Go through the whole courtship, and then, when you’re ready to have sex, see how it goes. It might not even reach that phase.”

  “I guess not,” she said doubtfully, and she knew that doubt made Sam chuckle.

  “I guess that means sex is most definitely on your mind?”

  She blew out a gusting breath. “You’ve seen the man, Sam. How can it not be?”

  “I always wondered why you went out with Terry and not Gabe.”

  Meg pondered that a second. “Probably because Terry asked me, and Gabe didn’t.” She bit her lip. “Crap. All of this could have been avoided, couldn’t it? If Terry hadn’t been a complete shit, none of this would have happened, and I’d be with Gabe.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Sam quickly butted in. “You and he might be compatible in the 'playroom', but you might not be in real life or in a regular bedroom. Don’t run before you can walk.”

  At his advice, she stuffed another bite of chocolate into her mouth. “No, I guess not.”

  Sam snorted. “Go and get some sleep. You’ve had an emotional purge today, and don’t get me wrong, it was about goddamn time, but still, you must be exhausted. Call me tomorrow and let me know if you feel the same way after some rest.”

  “I will, Sam. And hey, I’m sorry for keeping this from you.”

  “I understand, but you never have to be ashamed. Not with me. We know the good, the bad, and the ugly about each other, don’t we?”

  She smiled. “Yeah. The Two Musketeers, huh?”

  Sam chuckled. “Exactly.”

  Chapter Six

  Two mornings on, two nights’ rest to give her time to come to terms with the fact she might need to have her head examined, but it was all for nothing.

  Friday came around, and Meg was more than ready for the date with Gabe.

  She still felt like a fool, still felt like she was letting herself in for more heartbreak, but when those fears overset her, Meg would think back to one of the countless Friday nights they'd shared together, and her body would make the decision for her.