by J. A. Howell
Shayne laughed, smiled, and joked the rest of the day, hiding it well, but I knew that darkness was still there, hiding underneath. Whatever put it there must have left deep scars.
Then there was the other revelation she’d shared yesterday. I still had a small burn mark left on my stomach from it. I’d never met a girl that was into that sort of thing. Or maybe I had and I just hadn’t realized it. Hell, I hadn’t realized what my own wife was into until I walked in on her little sex party.
Still, Shayne didn’t come off as submissive in any way. She seemed quite the opposite in fact. I knew it wasn’t easy to put up with Liam. Growing up with him, it was either his way or the highway. Only someone equally as strong-willed and hard-headed could stand running a business with him. My mind wandered to her bent over the pool table in front of me, the curve of her arse, and the red mark that peeked out from her skirt. When I first saw it, I was shocked. It looked painful. I knew some men enjoyed that sort of thing, but I couldn’t even fathom laying my hands on a woman like that—not that Kendall would have let me try. But Shayne let Darren. And she liked it?
I glanced around the office, as if the mere thought of Shayne would cause her to appear behind me. Loud music played, bleeding through the wall the desk was against and I knew she was deep into her tattoo session. Relieved at that, I let my mind wander further into the mystery that was Shayne. What else did she let him do to her? She’d joked about whips and chains, but did Darren use those too? Was it like they portrayed on TV, or in those weird late-night documentaries I’d seen once when I was too lazy to grab the remote a few feet away? Shayne seemed mostly normal, if not a bit eccentric. Not like some of those people they’d interviewed on that documentary.
Curiousity picked at me, making me abandon the current story I was working on. Some girl in a haunted apartment. She’d have to wait. I opened a browsing tab and typed in “BDSM” and “Submission”. A couple BDSM 101 pages came up, and I scanned over them. I read about subspace, the high a submissive can experience during play. Was that what she found so freeing? She’d gotten that little smile on her face talking about it. Christ, that was sexy.
Several images came up. I found some erotic, others disturbing, but I couldn’t stop looking at them. Shayne’s face replaced some of the girls’ and warmth spread through my stomach. She’d pushed me away again yesterday at Gino’s and knowing the things she was into now, I could see why. I wasn’t like Darren. I certainly wasn’t a feckin’ dominant. With Kendall, I did what she wanted me to do. A few times I tried to explore other positions, only to be met with sharp opposition. I’d tried to go down on her once and she’d nearly ripped my hair out trying to stop me. The warmth left my stomach, replaced with a heavy knot. I thought maybe she was just uncomfortable with it. Obviously, I thought wrong.
“I was going to grab some lunch, Kieran did you want to—”
I slammed the laptop shut and jerked my head around at the sound of Shayne’s voice. I hadn’t even heard the door open. She stared at the laptop, lips parted and eyebrows raised over wide brown eyes. “Oh.”
“It’s research! For a book!”
I caught the twitch of a smile, but she quickly regained control of her features and cleared her throat. “Did you want to um…go to lunch with me?”
CHAPTER NINE
I’ve Got a Paddle in my Trunk
Lunch with Kieran had become a daily ritual over the last couple weeks he’d been in Midtown, and I was finding I rather enjoyed his company—minus the occasional snarky comment regarding my choice in extra-curricular activities. Liam had relaxed some, seeing that our interactions had turned quite platonic for the most part.
“Gino’s again?” I asked as we walked out to my car.
“Sounds good to me.”
I nodded and tossed him my keys. “You can drive Betty today. My wrists are killing me.”
A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth and I rolled my eyes. “From tattooing, perv.”
He made himself the picture of innocence, drawing his lips into a pout and batting his long dark lashes.
“I didn’t say anything.”
I pulled the passenger door open and slid inside so he didn’t see my smile. “You didn’t have to.”
Kieran let out an indignant grunt, but mischief played behind those eyes of his and a grin spread across his lips. He pulled out of the alley and fifteen minutes later we were at Gino’s. We went inside and Kieran slid into the booth we’d sat at the first time we came here. I slid in across from him and sat down a little too hard. With a wince, I eased down against the seat. Kieran took notice, a wide toothy grin crossing his lips.
“Ya alright over there?”
“Yep, just fine.” I answered and flipped open one of the menus. I refused to give him anymore fuel.
The waitress came, placed our drinks in front of us, and took our orders. Calzones this time. Kieran gnawed at his bottom lip, gears turning behind his eyes. Here we go again. I shifted against the padded bench, winced, and his eyes lit up.
“Arse a little sore?”
“Maybe.” My eyes darted up to him. Two could play this game. Admittedly, I found his attempts to pry more than entertaining. He grinned at this little morsel and stabbed his straw in his drink, waggling an eyebrow at me. “Was somebody a naughty girl last night?”
I took a long sip from my soda, narrowing my eyes at him speculatively. The minute I answered him, he’d blush and change the subject, I just knew it. So I answered him. Honestly.
“Yeah, I was. Darren bent me over his kitchen table and spanked me with a wooden paddle.”
Kieran blinked and his eyes widened a little, but to my surprise he quickly returned to his former, teasing expression. “Ya really like getting spanked, don’t ya?”
A trickle of warmth moved through me and I sat up, amused and somewhat turned on by this bolder side of Kieran. I wondered just how far he would take it.
“Yeah, I do. I’ve got a paddle in my trunk if you want to go outside and give it a couple swings.”
Kieran’s eyes went round again and he sucked in a breath—and soda, which he promptly sputtered across the tabletop. Lucky for him, the waitress came back with our food, though she frowned at the spray of soda. She wiped down the table then placed our dishes in front of us and Kieran gave her an apologetic look. His cheeks flushed and I turned my attention to the hot calzone on my plate, giving him a chance to recuperate.
“So ya said ya had ta pick up a few things fer the shop?” He asked, finally looking up from his plate.
I smiled. Of course he changed the subject.
“Liam wanted to find some more furniture for the front of the shop so I thought we could drive out to this second-hand furniture store outside of town a little ways. They usually have some funky stuff. I can take you back to the shop if you don’t want to go.”
“No, I’ll come with.” He answered quickly, though some traces of embarrassment still colored his cheeks. We finished our lunch in companionable silence, then headed out to the furniture store.
I followed Shayne through the maze of mismatched furniture that cluttered the interior of The Dirty Rich Hippie. Liam and she had apparently furnished most of their shop with finds from here. She strolled ahead of me, running her fingers over a curved red velvet sofa. It looked like something she’d put in her place. From the small grin on her lips, I guessed I wasn’t that far off in her tastes. I liked hanging out with Shayne. She was cute, funny, and I was finding myself thinking about Kendall less and less. When I did, I found I didn’t feel as devastated as I once had. It had happened, and it hurt me, but I felt like I could start moving past it. I hadn’t even turned my phone back on since that night at the pub. It was strange being completely disconnected, but also a bit freeing in its own right.
“What do you think? Anything stick out?” Shayne asked me. I glanced around the shop, at the assorted chairs, sofas, and lounges, then back to her. She bent over another sofa, inspecting a fringed pillo
w and I couldn’t help admiring the perfect curve of her arse. What the hell would have happened if I’d said yes? Heat rose up my neck at the thought. I’d never so much as tried to slap a girls’ arse, and Kendall had only been the second woman I’d slept with. It couldn’t be that hard, I thought, pulling myself up straight. Just a swat of the palm against her arse, right? My da had given me a few lashings once when I’d gotten in a fight at school. Surely it wasn’t a matter of great skill.
“Kieran?” I lifted my gaze to hers. I’d been caught. Play it off, jackarse. Play it off.
“Yes?” I flashed her a bright smile.
“I was just asking you what you thought of this table.” She nodded down at a wrought iron coffee table with a colorful mosaic glass top.
“I like it. It’s a nice work of arse—errr art. Nice work of art.”
Shayne’s lips pulled tight in a poor attempt to hide a smirk at my slip-up. I turned away, pretending to admire another piece of furniture.
“I think it would look nice in the front. We could put magazines and our portfolios on it for clients.” She called after me. I grinned. At least she didn’t mind my blatant ogling. There was a large four-post bed in the corner, the wood stained a dark chocolate. She came up beside me and tilted her head, eyeing the carved posts and reaching a hand out to touch the polished wood.
“Looks like something ya’d have Darren tie ya up ta.”
Shayne whipped her head around and gave me a wide look.
“Feck! I shouldn’t have said that.”
Her features softened and a giggle bubbled to the surface. “You really should loosen up. If that had offended me, you would know. Trust me.” She spun back around and continued around the bed. “And actually, it’s a gorgeous bed. I’d love to have it, and not just for that…though yes it would certainly be sturdy enough.” She gave one of the posts a tug in demonstration and her gaze flickered to mine with a playful gleam.
“So, ya do have him tie ya ta the bed?” My words tumbled out before I could stop them. Apparently I was suffering from a severe case of verbal diarrhea today.
Shayne gave me a thoughtful look before returning her attention to the bed. “Yeah, I do.”
I dropped my gaze to the intricate lines running through the quilt that laid on the bed. More thoughts and questions pulled at me, and though I knew it was none of my business, I couldn’t help myself.
“What else do ya have him do ta ya?” My mouth went dry and I chanced a look back up at her when she didn’t answer. She stared back at me, her lips pursed in contemplation. Not a frown of disapproval as I had expected.
“You really want to know?”
I should have said no, but my head nodded in complete disregard for the rest for me.
A small smile crossed her lips and she turned, continuing to browse the other items crowding the shop.
“I serve him. When I step into his apartment I do whatever he tells me to do. A lot of times he makes me tell him about my day, any dirty thoughts I had, things I did or wanted to do.” Her gaze flickered to me briefly and I swallowed hard, listening intently as she continued. “He punishes me when I lie, or when I don’t do what he says. Sometimes he punishes me because I enjoy the pain and he knows it.”
“Last night, was he,” I hesitated. “Last night, why was he punishing you?”
She stopped in front of a large antique vanity, lifted the price tag, then let it drop before looking at me. Shayne stared off with a distant but wistful look and for a moment I wondered if she’d heard me.
“I wouldn’t admit something to him.”
I thought maybe I should back off, but I couldn’t help myself. I was pulled in. I wanted to know more.
“What wouldn’t ya admit ta?”
Panic spread through her features for a moment, but she quickly pulled it back under. Then she smiled, a melancholy smile as her gaze met mine.
“Fantasies I had about someone yesterday.”
I started to ask who, but a thought struck me then. After lunch yesterday I’d spent most the afternoon with her. We’d walked around downtown, laughing and joking with each other. We’d taken our time going back to the shop, people watching and window-shopping.
The words didn’t leave my lips, but she knew what I wanted to know. I gripped one of the bedposts, eyes fixed on her.
Was it me?
Shayne pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth and let out a sharp exhale. She didn’t look away from me, and my own breath left my lungs.
Was it me?
Her mouth moved, attempting to form words, but the sudden shrill ring of her cell phone forced her attention away.
“Hello? Yes this is her…yes, okay I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Her frown deepened with every word and she hung up the phone with a sigh.
“Is everything okay, Shayne?”
“No. We need to go. I have to go see my mother.”
“Shayne, ya alright?” Kieran asked.
“I’m fine.” I nodded, keeping my attention on the road.
“Yer nails are digging into the steering wheel.” I glanced down and loosened my grip.
“Sorry. It’s just…my mom’s sick.”
“I’m sorry. Is she going ta be okay?”
“It’s more of a mental issue.” I admitted. I supposed Kieran already thought I was a freak. Admitting my mother was nuts wouldn’t come as that much of a shock.
The car fell into silence and I turned on the radio to fill the awkward void. My mind drifted back to the conversation at the furniture store…and last night. My stomach lurched. He’d known, hadn’t he?
“Tell me, Shayne. Tell me what you really want.”
Silence.
Thwack!
“You were with him today, weren’t you? I can tell.”
“We’re friends. That’s all.”
“Hmmph. You’ve been over here every day for the last two weeks. I know it’s because of him.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve just been stressed.”
Thwack!
“Don’t lie to me, Shayne. Just admit you want him.”
“But I don’t.”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
“What are you afraid of, Shayne?”
“Nothing.”
Thwack!
I didn’t want him. Not like Darren thought. Sure, I was attracted to Kieran, but I was attracted to plenty of men. I shifted against the seat and the dull ache only served as a reminder. Kieran noticed, and I saw him watching me from his side of the car.
“Shayne?”
“We’re almost there.” I said, and turned down the long dirt road that led to Rolling Hills Treatment Center. Kieran returned his attention ahead as the car approached the concrete block walls that ran around the perimeter of the hospital. It was very out of the way, but she’d worn out her welcome at any closer treatment facilities.
“Look I’ll just be a few minutes. Can you wait in the car?”
Kieran nodded, his blue eyes piercing me with the concern in them. I had to get out of the car, get away from him. The problem was, I didn’t want to be here either. I didn’t want to see her.
CHAPTER TEN
It Was You
Shayne had been gone almost an hour now, and I was starting to get concerned, but I told her I’d wait in the car. I didn’t mind that she was taking a long time. My bladder however, had other opinions on that matter. With a cursory glance around the property I got out of the car and headed for reception. There was a bathroom to the left of the waiting room that the receptionist said was for visitors.
I relieved myself with a deep sigh of relief, washed my hands, and hurried back outside hoping Shayne hadn’t returned yet. As soon as I stepped outside though, I saw her standing next to a tree. She was staring my way with a cold, angry look and an apology formed on my lips. Drawing closer to her though, I realized she wasn’t looking at me at all. And she wasn’t angry, she was upset.
“Shayne, ya okay?” I asked. Her eyes widened on me, pa
nic making her gasp.
“What are you doing, Kieran? I though you were going to wait in the car?”
“I’m sorry. I just went ta use the restroom, then I saw ya standing here and I—”
“Heh, let me guess. This is your latest sugar daddy?” An older woman with straggly black and gray hair glared daggers at me from a face that looked merely skin and bone. I’d never seen the woman before but she bore some strange familiarity. Her mother.
“It’s not like that. Kieran’s just a friend.”
“Friend? Aren’t they all?” She sniffed at Shayne, rubbing a bony hand under her reddened nose.
“I’m just a friend.” I added. She narrowed her eyes at me and let out a snort.
“So what is it you’re doing for her, then? Coke? Heroin? Or just a fun piece of ass?”
“I’m just her friend and how dare ya talk about yer own flesh and blood like that?”
“Wow, Shayne! He must not be that good of a friend. He doesn’t know you at all.” Her mother laughed and patted my arm. I took a step back, not wanting her anywhere near me.
“Mother, leave him alone.” The muscles at the side of Shayne’s neck strained as she tried to keep her calm.
“Shayne, I can just go back ta the car—”
“You know, Kieran, was it?” Her mother tilted her head, eyes narrowed like a lion spotting its prey. “You know Kieran, Shayne thinks she’s better than her dear mother. She sticks me in this God forsaken rehab because I’m the one with the problems, never mind her own! She dresses in her slutty little clothes, covers herself in those disgusting tattoos, and acts like she’s got her shit together, but I know the real her. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Cover up those arms with that ink, Shayne, but I can still see the track marks…and everything else.”
“I don’t do those things anymore.” Shayne said, her voice defensive but hushed.
