Dark Secret

by Summer Cooper

  “No. I’m sick of that shit.” The words flew out, and there was no way to pull them back. I decided not to backtrack, simply because it was the truth.

  “Okay. Would you, perhaps, be open to a longer one then?” Her dark eyebrow lifted over a glittering eye, and I couldn’t help but frown.

  “I’m sick of those, Roxie. Why can’t he just take me as I am?”

  “Because not everyone can trust like you can, Steph.” At least she got the name right this time.

  “You think he has trust issues?” I had kind of thought that but wasn’t sure.

  “He might. Most men do that insist on contracts.” She sighed deeply and looked at me with a lot of concern. “Are you ready to face him?”

  I turned my head, something in the tone of her voice told me. Or maybe it was the way my skin tightened, I didn’t know, but I did know it ended with me staring right at him, at the bar.

  Our eyes locked, and heartbreak filled me when he turned away. “Damn.”

  Roxie patted my hand and ordered me another drink.

  “He’s leaving,” I whispered, the heartbreak hard to hide now.

  “Maybe it’s for the best, hun,” Roxie whispered, but I knew she was wrong.

  Dylan was meant for me. No matter what hurt in his past had made him need to be the one in control, no matter if he needed a contract or not. I remembered that weekend on the island all over again, and how I’d longed to be his forever. How I’d started to daydream about the future.

  I wasn’t sure I could ever have that with Dylan, but if I threw it away now, I’d never know would I? Besides, I’d chosen him over my family; I had to make it worth it, somehow.

  Dylan

  I walked into the club, the plan to just have a drink, sit for a little while, maybe have a chat with Roxie, and then go home. I’d come in through the back way, but she hadn’t been in her dressing room. Seeing Stephanie sitting there at a table with her was the last thing I’d expected.

  She’d come here to find a dom, she’d walked out on me, so it made sense that she was on the hunt for a new one now. That thought kicked me in the guts, and when she turned and our eyes caught, well, I was certain my organs twisted into knots, not just my stomach.

  I saw her hurt there, her questions, but I couldn’t get myself to go to her. Because I’d also seen that little flash of defiance. She was still determined to not have a contract. Fuck it. I headed down to the lower levels of the club. If little Miss Thing wanted to have her way, then I’d let her. I wasn't going to give in, not now.

  I took the elevator down to the playground as I’d come to think of it. I’d found an empty bedroom next to a room where two women were taking out the day’s frustrations on a man. He was strapped to a low table, a ball gag in his mouth. His eyes were covered with a black strip of leather, and his ears were plugged. He could only smell and feel, maybe taste if they decided to use his mouth. I knew the table could be moved to make access easier.

  Normally, this sort of thing didn’t interest me, but I’d been wondering what Stephanie might do if our roles were reversed. I could definitely see her in the role of a dom, if she’d ever wanted to switch out. Not with me, I’d never let anyone have that kind of control of me, but she might enjoy the things the women were doing.

  They had the man excited, I could see that, but I’d doubted they even really saw him as a real person in that moment. He was a penis, a mouth, an instrument to be used for their enjoyment. Stephanie might enjoy doing that to someone, to take away even their identity, but I wasn't sure she’d like being the one strapped down so much.

  But, maybe, she’d like a taste of it. If I could figure out how to end this mess. She was only a few feet above my head, just right there. Within reach for the first time in a week. She’d looked delicious too, in that black dress that fit her frame so well. It had shown off her breasts.

  I sank to the edge of the bed, hard as a rock at the mere thought of the weight of her silky flesh in my hands. I cupped my erection through my pants, but that didn’t ease the ache there. It had only made it worse.

  I’d took a deep breath and refocused on the trio across from me. They couldn’t see me, but I could see them, and they knew it. There would have been a small green light that turned on at the top of ceiling the moment I locked the door to this room. They knew there was an audience watching.

  One of them was a redhead, the other had naturally black hair. Both were attractive, but they weren’t Stephanie. Still, I’d sat there and waited. I’d wanted her to come down to me, to watch this rather erotic, provoking display. I’d wanted to put her on her hands and knees and take her until I was satisfied. Then, I’d leave her to want more. There would be no satisfaction for her, as there wouldn’t be for the fellow across the room from me.

  That would be her punishment, I’d decided. She’d have to take what I gave her and no more. Then maybe she’d learn a lesson. I wasn’t a brutal dom, after all. I wouldn’t beat her because I had no desire to see dark purple bruises on her skin. It was too perfect to mar like that. Besides, I didn’t want to inflict that kind of punishment on her. That kind broke the will and the spirit. I didn’t want to take that from her.

  I loved that aspect of her personality, of who she was. She had a mind of her own, and it was one of the things that I found the most attractive about her. There were many, many things about her to be enamored with.

  How did I get her back, though? Roxie had told me yesterday that she didn’t know how to get Stephanie to sign another contract. I’d felt like an idiot asking the other woman what to do, but I knew I could trust her. She’d approach it with her analytical mind and find a solution. I’d wondered if that was why Stephanie was here, some ploy of Roxie’s, maybe.

  Had she called Stephanie here to bring us together? If that was her plan, then it didn’t work because Stephanie didn’t run up to me and declare her undying commitment. She didn’t make a single move; she just sat there and stared, and then I walked away. I’d been stunned to see her, so I walked away.

  I banged my fist down on the bed, frustrated and angry that I couldn’t come up with a solution to the whole thing. My pride wouldn’t let me go to her, and she hadn’t broken. I’d almost gone to her on more than one occasion. I’d even got in the car and drove in the direction of her house, but the last minute I’d changed my mind and turned around. I'd go back to my chair and do some more work.

  Work had got me through this whole mess, and now that the deal that I’d managed to set up on the property had started to move along, there was even more work to do. Since my family owned a number of hotels, I had staff to do most of the work, but there was still a lot for me to do. I’d already started to work the numbers for renovating the resort. It hadn’t been empty for long, but we’d want it to look like our brand. That meant a lot of redecorating had to be done and work orders had to be sent out.

  Sure, I could let someone else do all of that, but I’d wanted this to be perfect. I had learned not to get too excited, Trent Thompson had a knack for jerking deals right out of my hands, but I had a feeling about this one. The owner hadn’t listed the property yet when my real estate agent contacted them, and I was almost certain this was the one.

  Even more frustrated now, I got up and left the room. There was nothing for me here, not without Stephanie. I headed out of the club, went home, and filled up a glass with scotch. I needed relief, but I hadn’t found it at Elmo’s. I had found Stephanie, however, and she was part of the problem. She was in my dreams, and in my thoughts, and it didn’t matter how many times I took matters into my own hand, I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

  Even when I’d tried to work, she was in my head. I’d wanted to take her to the other hotels we had, show her what it was I’d worked so hard for. I’d wanted to take her up in the mountains in California and show her the sights, and to take her to the ski slopes in Colorado. I’d hated going home to Kansas, but I’d also wanted to take her there and show her where I’d grew up.
/>
  I’d wanted her by my side as I got this new resort off the ground. This was a test for my family and me, in many ways. We had a lot of hotels, that was for sure, but this would be my contribution to the chain. To our family’s legacy. Although, that wasn’t something I’d really thought about. A legacy.

  As I’d settled into a chair at the kitchen table, my work spread out all around me, I’d thought about it. I had no children, and the couple who adopted me had no other children. Who would this empire I was trying to add to go to if something happened to me? When something happened to me?

  I wasn’t sure, and that bothered me. I’d never really wanted children before, not after my childhood, but the thought hit me and weighed on me heavily. Why was I was working so hard if there was nobody to leave all of this to? Even Trent Thompson had children, as did his brothers. There was a whole slew of inheritors there, but my family? There’d only been me.

  Then my brain decided to really fuck me over and put the image of Stephanie with a baby in her arms into my mind. Something in my lower abdomen clutched, and my heart pounded. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with me?

  I got up from the table and slugged down the scotch. I’d had plenty of years to worry about that, and if it came down to it, I could hire a surrogate, if need be. Marriage, romantic relationships, none of that was in my future. I’d laughed at myself for being so stupid. Hadn’t my mother taught me anything?

  Love made you crazy, and it made you do stupid shit, like murder the only man who had ever stuck by you. It made you stick by the woman who did nothing but hurt you and your child, over and over again, long after you should have had her put into care for her own safety. For your safety. If Dad had put mom in the hospital, he might still be alive, and that thought had burned through my soul for a long time now. He hadn’t because he’d loved her. He thought he could love her back to sanity, but he hadn’t been able to.

  No amount of love would have done that, except that love that would have let her go to get help. Dad hadn’t seen it that way, and he’d paid the ultimate price. I’d promised myself, all those years ago, that I would never fall victim to that kind of nonsense. The kind that could get you killed.

  Maybe I should just walk away from all of this, I’d thought for the first time. Leave the idea of a resort on the east coast behind, or move to a different state and start my search over again. Find someone new to play with, someone who understood the game and treated it as such.

  Someone who didn’t have Stephanie’s eyes that saw right through me. Or the mouth that I’d loved to kiss, the mouth that could bring so much pleasure. Fuck, I was hard again now.

  I went into the shower and tried not to think about her. I’d tried to convince myself to just pack my shit up and go. Even when I’d got out and had dressed again, I still couldn’t convince myself that it was a good idea. I’d spent a lot of resources here already, and it would be stupid to just throw all of that away.

  That felt better than admitting that I couldn’t give up on Stephanie, not yet. Blaming my reluctance on that meant I didn’t have to admit that I’d wanted to drive to her house, walk through her front door, carry her to the bed, and make her scream my name as she’d raked my back for more.

  I’d grabbed the keys to a new toy I’d bought and headed down to the parking garage. I’d seen the shop when I’d turned around from one of my many abandoned trips to Stephanie’s place. A brand new motorcycle, with an amazing paint job and an engine loud enough to drown out my very thoughts. Painted in black and blue metallic fleck paint, the monster of a bike was slung low and had a v-twin engine that didn’t want to stop.

  I threw a leg over the bike, started her up, and headed out to the highway. A long ride had been the only thing that could soothe me lately. It had been a whim to buy the bike, I hadn’t ridden one since I was in my early twenties, but I’d kept my license valid, and hadn’t forgotten how to ride one. With the engine vibrating my lower extremities, I flew into the night, the helmet on my head protecting me from the wind. I was glad I’d put a leather jacket on before I left, but my legs were a little cold in jeans.

  None of it had mattered, not when I was on that bike. I drove for an hour, until my hands were tired of gripping the accelerator, and stopped at a twenty-four-hour diner to grab a cup of coffee. Stephanie was still in my head, but I didn’t feel quite as frustrated now.

  I’d give her a few more days, I’d decided on the way back home, and if she hadn’t come to me by then, I’d go somewhere else. I’d go back to Kansas, or maybe out to California. There were quite a few nice stretches of road out there to take the bike on. I could drive out to Las Vegas from there, check on the resort in the city that was never fully dark, and then head to Kansas.

  I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten how awesome it was to be on the back of motorcycle. I’d grown into the corporate life like I’d been born to it and had left the rebellion of my youth behind. Now, a little older and a little wiser, I knew this would be part of my life, and that I’d probably go back on my decision to give Stephanie a few more days.

  She had infected me, somehow, the little witch. I couldn’t get her out of my system, and even though her leaving me had angered me, deep down it was the fact that it had hurt that she’d left that really bothered me. I could accept that anger, but not the hurt. I could accept that I’d wanted her so that I could fuck her and spend time with her as a friend, but I could not, would not, accept that I wanted her for far more than that. Even if my brain and my heart constantly reminded me that I did.

  I drove the bike hard, reached speeds that would probably earn me a speeding ticket if there were speed cameras on the highway, or if a cop clocked me. I didn’t care at the moment. I’d pay to get out of the ticket because I’d felt as if I was being chased, hounded by my own thoughts. When I broke 100 mph, my concentration was on keeping the bike off the ground and my head on my shoulders. I couldn’t think about Stephanie anymore because I was concentrating on my preventing my own death.

  I slowed as I came to the exit that would lead me to my home, my heart racing and blood pounding in my veins. I felt each beat of my heart as a pulse as my blood shot through my body. Yes, I needed a lot more of this and less time sitting at home, mooning over a woman. My thoughts were clear by the time I pulled up into the parking garage.

  I’d stopped the bike, locked it up for the night, and just sat there on it. My blood still raced through my veins, but I’d felt calmer, my brain was quiet for once. For the first time in a week, I’d smiled. That had been fun.

  I’d scoffed at my own stupidity, but had to admit, the race against myself had done me some good. I’d locked my helmet up in one of the saddlebags and headed for the elevator. Maybe I could get some sleep now.

  I’d leaned back against the wall of the elevator and breathed in deep. Peace was a good thing, and I’d thought about having a swim too, before I headed to bed. I’d neglected my workout sessions over the last few days, and a swim would get me back in the game. I had made up my mind to do just that when the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened wide.

  Stephanie was there, without her mask, her hands wrung together as those beautiful eyes stared up at me with uncertainty. I stared at her for only a second before I had her against my door, our lips locked together in a frantic reunion.

  Emily

  After I saw Dylan walk out of the bar, I’d made my excuses to Roxie, and left. The place felt stifling, and I couldn’t sit there. I didn’t know if he was still in the place, or if he’d left; all I knew was I couldn’t sit there if he was.

  When I’d first seen him, my impulse was to run away. Then, I’d wanted to go up and whack him one for not calling me. Then I’d wanted to cave in to his demands. I’d gone home and stared at the empty rooms. Frustration made me jittery, and that put me on edge. I went to my laptop and decided to play a game on Facebook, maybe find a new one to play.

  I went up to the search bar within the application and was about to type in free g
ames when my fingers found the D key instead. I went to erase the letters and typed Dylan’s name in. Of course, he didn’t have a Facebook, not that I could see. Oh, there were plenty of people with his name, but he didn’t have a profile. That’s when I got the bright idea to open a new page on my browser and type in his name, along with the state he was from. Kansas.

  That brought up a bunch of stuff that wasn’t what I was looking for, and then I saw it, on the second page. Reports about a fire, two deaths, and the suspect was the son. My blood ran cold as I opened the link to see a much younger Dylan on the screen. His name had been Dylan Matthews back then, but the news sources had tagged it with his adopted name. There were several pictures of a very young Dylan, and my heart lurched over each one. His demeanor was defiant as he was led away in handcuffs, but another picture showed what was really going on. A broken little boy whose parents had just died, with a grief-stricken face as the police car drove away.

  I scrolled back and found more reports, how his mother had been the one to set the fire, and on one rather gory site, I found the details of how Dylan had lived his life. Apparently, the information came from a friend of Dylan’s parents, but it didn’t say who that person was. All I could think as I read this horrific account was why hadn’t someone done something, anything, to prevent what had happened?

  His mother had been the problem, not Dylan, and it made me even angrier at Trent that he’d told me Dylan had killed his parents. He must have seen both reports, as I had. How could he accuse Dylan of that, when it wasn’t true? When the truth was even worse; his own mother had tried to kill him!

  He’d never told me much about his private life, not really; although I thought he’d started to a few times. Something always held him back. The openness in his eyes would hide behind an invisible shutter, and the moment would pass. He’d change the subject, or kiss me instead of telling me whatever secrets he’d kept locked away, and what secrets he’d hidden indeed.