Ménage à Tess (The Tess Series)

by Tessa Wanton

  “A unique experience, yes?”

  Words like smooth silk to Tessa’s ears. She tilted her head upward to look at Isabella. The power of Her striking blue eyes had lost none of their impact as she caught her breath, thoughts scrambling to find the right words to reply.

  “Um, unique…yes…quite something special…Lady Isabella.”

  Her answer seemed cringeworthy, but the way Isabella’s full lips curved in response made her both blush deeply and yearn to be kissed both at the same time.

  “Please, Izzy will suffice perfectly out of scene. I don’t hold to this ‘always in character’ thing like some do.”

  And it left Tessa in absolutely no doubt to whom she was referring. Izzy would be fine, for sure, but she wasn’t ever going to call her Master by His name. Their relationship was different. The formality was different. She liked it that way.

  “I was thinking perhaps some pasta for dinner. You will stay for dinner, won’t you, little one? After such an involved scene, I would not be happy to push you out of the door, and besides, I think we have a lot in common, and I hate to pass up the opportunity for inspired conversation. It would also be a waste to see these wines set down the drain. What do you say?” And as she eyed the flimsy tube dress Tessa had worn for their scene, she added, “I have a nice soft robe I am sure would fit you, if you would like to take a shower.”

  “That’s very kind…Izzy…thank you.” Tessa looked down at herself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious to be naked and sweaty with matted hair and streaked makeup next to such effortless beauty. Clutching the blanket closer to her she suddenly felt very cold, an involuntary shiver running throughout her whole body.

  “Ah! You must be freezing! The first sign you’re coming back to me. Let’s get you into the shower.” Isabella sat upright and vigorously rubbed Tessa’s arms and body with the blanket. The sensation of the coarse wool caused her to yelp a little, Isabella looking concerned and stopping momentarily.

  “Are you hurt?”

  The words were strong, not gentle like they were previously.

  “Ah, no…my skin is just a little sensitive…sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

  “Okay. As long as you say so, my dear one. Let’s get moving, we need to get you warm, hydrated and fed.”

  Chapter Eight

  Isabella had led Tessa through the mansion, describing the plans for renovation of the different parts of the house as they went. Walking up the grand, shabby staircase and then to the main bathroom, she noted that it was modest in the same vein as the veiled flamboyancy of the rest of the property. Isabella left her to it, and she had to admit that the shower was simply a perfect suggestion. The cascading water fell over her like a waterfall, washing away the cares and worries of the past few hours and healing her mind, at least for the moment. It would serve until she could get home and run a scalding hot bath to ease her aching limbs and tortured body. Drying herself carefully, she gingerly pulled on the fluffy white bathrobe that Isabella had lain out for her, so wonderfully soft and blissful against her tender bottom. Even as exhausted as she was, she considered that she hadn’t felt as happy as this for a long time. Slipping her feet into the matching white slippers, she scrunched her toes into the downy padded material of the inner soles and giggled. It felt like she was in a posh hotel.

  She headed back downstairs and retraced her steps to the lounge where the scene had been carried out. Isabella wasn’t there. Lingering a moment longer, Tessa closed her eyes and remembered snatches of the scene. Even though it happened less than an hour previously, her memory was fractured, unable to remember completely what had happened, but the feelings…she remembered the feelings with great clarity. It was undeniable that what had happened had been much more intense than anything she had experienced before.

  She withdrew from the room in a complete daze, still overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions refusing to allow her any peace. She nearly walked straight into Isabella, who was standing a few feet away from her, watching quietly. Serene was the only word Tessa could think to describe her host as she lowered her eyes and felt the blush rising in her cheeks. She knew she was welcome in the house, but even still, she felt like she disturbed the lady sneaking around in places she shouldn’t have been.

  “There you are, I wondered where you had got to—now, are you hungry, Tessa darling?”

  “Thank you, Izzy, yes…come to think of it, I am starving.”

  “Then come, it’s ready, and I managed to rustle up a fantastically decadent chocolate pudding for dessert. It’s a recipe a good friend of mine taught me a few years ago. It is pure indulgence. Perfect for today, I think, and who doesn’t like chocolate?” Isabella raised her eyebrow and laughed. Tessa couldn’t help but laugh with her. Perhaps her Master had found her a new friend, after all. She was undeniably drawn to Isabella; her warmth made her feel safe, not to mention she felt attractive too.

  “I thought we’d eat in the kitchen. No point in standing on ceremony now we’ve already shared such an intimate experience, don’t you think?”

  “Somehow I don’t think I could do formal in a bathrobe and slippers anyway.” Looking down at her garments, she held out her arms and did a twirl, grinning sheepishly. Isabella laughed more loudly now.

  “Just so, Tessa, just so.” Then they both retired to the kitchen. It was a large room, and bright, late afternoon sunshine streamed through the huge windows, which looked out onto a large courtyard and what appeared to be a stable block. Tessa studied them curiously.

  “Ah, my humble stables,” Isabella said. “Not so impressive, really, but one day they will be. It’s the culmination of my life’s work. A promise I made once upon a time…one that I will never break.” Isabella’s face grew ashen. Making herself busy, she turned the heat off the hob and dished up long tendrils of linguine, twisting them into neat little nests in the center of expensive looking white pasta bowls. Tessa’s stomach grumbled loudly. Quickly folding her arms, she wished her body would stop embarrassing her and be quiet. Whether Isabella heard or not, she gracefully ignored it and continued preparing their repast, sharing a wonderfully rich colored tomato sauce between the two dishes, topping it off with decadent looking cheese. She placed a leafy green salad in a large bowl, drizzling it with olive oil, and placed some garlic bread in another bowl. It seemed a lot of food, but Tessa considered that how hungry she was now, she could happily eat every last scrap of it. Placing the dishes on the counter in front of her, she topped up their glasses with a flourish.

  “Et voila! Eat up, it all has to go.” So Tessa did as she was bid, placing three pieces of garlic bread and a huge portion of salad into her bowl. It was all she could do to restrain herself from wolfing the whole meal down in a matter of seconds. The sauce exploded on her tongue. For a simple dish, it was the most delicious thing she had ever had the pleasure to eat. She was very pleased she had agreed to stay for dinner.

  “This…is amazing. Really, I wish I could cook this well.”

  “But you can. This is an easy recipe, and cooking is simply following the recipe. I can give you this one, if you like?”

  “Yes, please! And I can’t wait to try that chocolate pudding if this is just a simple sauce…” Looking up through her eyelashes across the counter to Isabella, she enjoyed the ease with how she felt in her presence. She felt she could be herself, not always on the edge.

  “So…would it be too personal to ask you, about…my Master? You both seem to have such a connection, and, well…His happiness is my business, and you seem to…make Him happy.” Avoiding eye contact, Tessa twirled a large amount of linguine onto her fork and strung out the action as long as she could so that she didn’t have to fill the silence that had descended upon them.

  “He is very special to me, Tessa. He was there for me when my husband James died. There weren’t many who knew how to handle me at that point. It may have been a business relationship to start, but as you know about Charles, he is perceptive in many ways, and very much n
ot the hardhearted businessman he likes to portray.

  “There are not many men that I would consider kneeling for, but he is one man for which I may one day consider doing so. But then I also relish the idea of him kneeling for me. He may not admit it, but he would enjoy it. He takes direction so well.” A light chuckle filled the still air in the kitchen, and the ashen nature of her features had flourished into girlish glee. She was in love with Him. It was as clear as day. But that wasn’t all of it. She was right—Master did take direction well. From her, at least. Tessa looked with envious eyes at the petite, elegant and utterly beautiful blonde sitting opposite her. She had no right to be jealous; it wasn’t as if she wasn’t in a loving relationship of her own, and in all honesty, if her Master had to be with someone, she couldn’t think of anyone more deserving. Plus, she thought back to the amazing experience she had just shared with them. If they were together, then she could, perhaps, hope for more of the same.

  “Do you…love Him?” Tessa knew she was pushing it but she had to know for sure. It would be for the best. She needed to break the iron grip that He had on her heart, and to make two deserving people happy would be the ideal way to do it.

  “Yes…In a way, I do.”

  Isabella downed her entire glass of wine and reached for the remainder of the bottle.

  “More wine? Oh, you’re still on champagne, aren’t you? Drink up, don’t be worried about driving, I shall be getting you a taxi home. You can come and pick up your car whenever you are ready, little one.” She smiled a tight smile, as if masking thoughts that should best stay hidden.

  It hurt like hell. But it was decided, Izzy and Master were such a perfect match, and she was determined to make her plan work. She and Johnny, the lady and the Master. Everyone would be happy, have everything they needed and wanted.

  Three’s A Crowd

  Chapter One

  When Johnny got home from work he was a little anxious. It was a lot later than he expected her to be home, and Tessa always seemed a bit different after she had been with him. He knew that was the point, but it was always the low mood for days afterward that worried him. She’d talked about aftercare and how “it was to be expected after such intense emotions,” and of course Charles had gone over the aftercare thing repeatedly during their training session, but it bothered him, nonetheless. Surely such a mind-blowing experience of mental and bodily freedom shouldn’t have such a negative impact on her? It preoccupied him for days before she went to her Master, and Johnny was the one who cared for her when she would vacantly stare into space or sob uncontrollably for no apparent reason afterward.

  He didn’t bother calling out to her when he opened the door today, but quickly scouted around and found her lying in the bath. It took a few seconds for her to react to him, and his heart sank as he instantly realized that this particular recovery was going to be a hard one. She looked drawn, and it was clear from the redness around her eyes she had already been crying. Judging by the puffiness of her eyelids, quite recently too. Dropping his bag where he stood, he fell to his knees next to her and enfolded her in his arms. Why in the hell did she do this to herself? This just couldn’t be worth it. Seeing her like this was killing him slowly from the inside out. He squeezed her tightly, kissing her wet hair—he couldn’t care less that she was soaking his clothes through. Eventually she shifted her body toward him and snaked her arms around his waist, returning his embrace. He sighed with relief; this was certainly a good sign.

  After a few moments he released her and stroked the side of her face tenderly, checking her expression for any traces of deep sadness that he should watch out for. “Would you like a drink, Tessy?” He knew better than to ask anything about why she was upset. He knew why. She nodded and smiled weakly in reply, so he rose, grabbed his bag and tossed it into the lounge on his way to the kitchen. He could do with something a little stronger himself; it was going to be a tough night. Reaching for the Bombay Sapphire, he decanted a large amount of ice into two low tumblers, poured a large measure for himself and a much smaller measure for Tessa. A little alcohol would release some of the tension, but too much would be a disaster. Charles had told him that after each of these sessions he should make sure she was getting enough hydration and to go easy on the booze. He absolutely hated the fact that it was Charles who reduced the love of his life to this state after each encounter, but he was too terrified to disregard any advice on the matter, especially as this whole situation was so alien to him. He had been grateful for the training and advice the Charles had given him, but nonetheless, he had felt scrutinized, assessed, judged. He keenly felt that he shouldn’t trust Charles. He was becoming convinced that his interest in Tessa was way more intimate than just this so called “play” relationship.

  This constantly troubled him. Was Tessa so naive as to not see this? Was he the one who was actually mistaken? Was he feeling jealousy? It’s not like he’d anything to prove; he was the one who called Tess his own. It was his right to slide his arms around her in public, show her off to his friends and family. Charles could never do any of that, and quite frankly, he’d be ridiculed anyway. Johnny snorted in amusement. How ridiculous would that be for the old man to show off his trophy girl at his age? Mid-life crisis, indeed! It would never last. Johnny was much better for her. Yes. Completely.

  He reached for the tonic and topped up the drinks, giving them a quick stir. Before he returned to her he rummaged through the cupboard for a bag of pretzels, the sour cream and chive flavored sort she adored. Stuffing it under his arm, he made for the lounge.

  “Drinks ready when you are, babe,” he called. Not expecting an answer, he flicked on the stereo. He turned the volume down a few notches and strained to hear Tessa in the other room. Sigur Rós’ “Valtari” thrummed from the speakers, filling the lounge and soothing the worrying void in his thoughts. Slumping back into her threadbare armchair, he gazed around the room. They’d moved in together just a week ago, and as her flat was bigger than his, they’d agreed he move in with her. A thought that at the time seemed totally sensible, and of course with them both paying bills on only one place, they could have more free time and money for fun and other pursuits. It was a shrewd thing to do, he definitely agreed with that, but it seemed while it should be the case that they share everything and make their mark as a proper couple, he still didn’t feel like this was his home. Not yet. The flat was definitely hers; she had many more knickknacks than he did; it felt more cluttered than he would have liked, but he didn’t feel it was his place to complain or suggest.

  Then there was the small matter of her “private” life. He’d been okay with her seeing this man at the start of their relationship, and happily turned a blind eye when she’d leave for a few hours and then come back to him with that distant look in her eyes. She’d had some mood swings after those meetings, but of late they were getting more and more intense. Almost self-destructive. True, she’d tried to introduce him into that corner of her world by having him train with the old man and trying to get a dialogue going between them, but Johnny just felt like Charles was looking down his nose at him, telling him what to do, and even telling him how to care for the woman he loved. He wasn’t a child and he didn’t relish being talked to like one. But then he was twenty years younger than the fellow—he could easily have been his son. He laughed to himself; the old man can’t have liked that thought much.

  She’d explained what went on in their sessions, but in all honesty, it still freaked Johnny out. Could he ever reconcile himself with sharing the love of his life with a man who just seemed to abuse her? He’d tried to bring up the seeming deterioration in her happiness, but she simply brushed off his concerns and told him “that is what it is all about—emotional release. Sometimes it gets messy.” He wasn’t so sure. Perhaps he should put his foot down, give her an ultimatum—him or the old man. The problem with such a decision was he was terrified she would choose Charles. He’d been there long before Johnny, and Tess didn’t like being told what to
do. By him at least anyway. She’d just as likely choose Charles out of annoyance at being pushed. Plus, the situation had been explained at the start of the relationship, and nothing had changed much since then, so what cause did he have to complain? He sighed heavily. He’d think about what to do another day; for now, he must keep an eye on Tessa and make sure she was okay.

  Looking up, he watched as Tess walked into the lounge, wrapped in just a large bath towel with her damp hair hanging in wavy ringlets around her face. Scooping up her drink from the side table, he watched quietly as she sat on the far end of the sofa, folding her legs underneath her, half hugging her body with her free arm. Johnny tried to think of some way to start a conversation, but everything he came up with seemed futile and pointless. He sighed again, took a swig from his glass, and simply watched her and listened to the lilting music. After a short time, the tortured expression on her face lifted slightly, and she seemed to become aware of him and her surroundings once more. A smile crept across her features. It was the smile that captured him time and again. The relief he felt wash over him in response was practically euphoric—better than any other high he could think of.

  “How was your day, honey?” she inquired, like there were no troubling thoughts cycling around in her mind.

  “Ah, so-so, Tessy. You know how it goes in my line of work. Kind of boring, really. But boring is relaxing—gives me time to think about all the fun things we can get up to when I leave work.” A pretty unremarkable answer, really, but he wasn’t in the mood to voice his true feelings on the matter.

  “Good…ah, Johnny, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. It might not be anything you, er…particularly like the idea of as yet, but please, hear me out, just think about it—you may take to the idea better than you think.” She lowered her eyes and tugged at the bottom of the towel and chewed her lip nervously. Johnny’s heart leaped into his throat. What the hell was she going to ask now? He desperately tried to keep his expression neutral, maybe even an air of nonchalance? That always seemed to work for Charles. Not wavering his gaze from her, he breathed the only response he could.