by Force, Marie
“But you’re going to win!”
“I can’t believe you just said that out loud.”
“This is no time for your superstitions.”
“Natalie…”
“You have to go.”
“I’m not going without you, and you can’t go. That’s the end of it.”
I recognize defeat when I see it. Sighing, I say, “I was really looking forward to going to London.”
“We’ll get there. For now, we’re going to chill at home until you’re fully recovered, and that’s that.”
“I hope you don’t get it, too.”
“I won’t. I seriously never get anything.”
“With all your superstitions, you’d better be knocking on some wood with that statement.”
He makes a big production out of knocking on the bedside table. “Now let’s get some food into you.”
* * *
True to his word, after we finally check out of the hotel, we don’t leave the house at all over the next week. We watch him win the BAFTA for Best Actor on TV, and this time Marlowe accepts the award for him. During the week, Flynn works from his home office, participating in conference calls with the Quantum team in between checking on me and waiting on me hand and foot. He also oversees another meeting of the foundation board of directors, which I sleep through.
“You’re like my butler,” I tell him when he makes lunch for me on Friday, the day before the Valentine’s Day party his parents are hosting to celebrate our marriage. This is the first day I feel somewhat normal, although I’m still far more tired than I should be.
“We can role-play that sometime. I’ll be your faithful servant, and you can be the mistress of the manor who orders me to service her in more ways than one.”
“Ohh, I like that. Could I dominate you in this scenario?”
“To a certain extent.”
“When can we do that?”
“You might not want to light the fuse, baby. I’m feeling a little pent-up over here.”
“Awww, my poor sweet hubby has been so neglected by his sick wife.”
“You’re racking up the demerits,” he says with a teasing grin.
I rest my hands on his chest and look up at him. “Tell me the truth. Have you been taking the edge off on your own?” I can tell right away that the question has surprised and maybe shocked him.
“Whatever has become of my sweet, virtuous wife?”
“She married a sex-crazed maniac who has turned her into one, too.”
“Is that right?” He zeroes in on my lips, his eyes heating with desire. “Maniac, huh?”
“Answer the question.”
“Since you came down with the bubonic plague, I have not once touched the equipment except to pee and wash it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He takes my hand and covers his rock-hard erection. “He’s all yours—and only yours—whenever you’re ready to get back in the saddle.” Kissing my forehead and then my lips, he says, “P.S., it’s no fun without you. I hope you’re happy that you’ve ruined a long career of monkey spanking.”
“That’s very gross and very funny.”
“Also very true. I have no desire to ‘take things in hand’ when you’re around.”
“And this is a… new… development?”
“Very new. The hand and I go way back. It’s been a jarring breakup.”
I laugh so hard that my sides ache.
“This is the second time you’ve laughed at my pain. More demerits.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “If I were to help you with this pent-up situation you’ve got going on, would you let me leave the house?”
“Only if I can go with you.”
“Will I get to drive?”
“That could be arranged.”
“And will you take me to the club tonight?”
“Oh, well, um, you’ve been so sick. You might not be ready for that yet.”
“I’m ready.” I run my finger down his chest and hook it in the waistband of his jeans. “I’m more than ready.”
“I’m afraid to touch you right now.”
“How come?”
“The pent-up thing we previously discussed.”
“So you’re afraid you might scare me?”
He bites his lip and nods.
I lean close enough to touch my lips to his ear. “Do your worst.”
His arms band around my waist as he lifts me up and over his shoulder.
I let out a squeak of surprise as he takes us into the bedroom, coming down on top of me. He breaks the contact only long enough to all but tear the clothes from our bodies before he returns, wrapping himself around me. “This is gonna be fast,” he whispers the second before he captures my lips in a kiss that tells me how much he’s missed being close to me while I was sick. His hands are everywhere, tweaking my nipples, stroking my back and bottom, caressing the slick heat between my legs.
“Need you so bad, Nat.”
“Take me. I’m all yours.”
As he slides into me fully in one deep stroke, I arch my back, needing to be closer, as close as I can get.
He takes my hands and holds them over my head, our eyes meeting as he makes certain this is okay with me. It’s more than okay. I wrap my legs around his hips and meet his every stroke. He pulls out of me, leaving me reeling and on the verge of exploding.
“Turn over.”
When I’m posed on all fours the way he wants me, he kneels behind me, grasps my hips and drives into me again. “Yes,” he whispers. “I wanted to be deeper.”
I drop my head to my forearms and submit to him completely. He’s taken such tender care of me during my illness. I want to give back to him in every possible way.
“Ah, God, Nat…” His fingertips dig into my hips, and he picks up the pace. Then he reaches around to stroke my clit.
“Flynn…” He’s not my Sir right now. He’s not my Dom. He’s my husband, and I love him desperately. “Please…”
“Yes. Now. With me.”
It’s perfect and beautiful, and the connection I feel to him is nothing short of spiritual. He has truly been there for me in good times and in bad, and we’ve had plenty of both in our first six weeks together.
He rests on top of me, the way he always does after he makes love to me. I love the way he holds me afterward while our bodies cool and pulse with aftershocks.
“Flynn.”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for taking such good care of me while I was sick.”
“It was my pleasure to take care of you, but don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“I want you to know…”
“What, honey?”
“That marrying you was the best thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.”
“Awww, sweetheart, me, too.”
“A lot has happened since we met, and my life has changed completely—in some ways we both wish hadn’t happened. But even knowing what we do now about what was in store for us, I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant I got to be with you.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Sometimes I wonder if you rue the day your wildebeest led you to me.”
“Best day of my life. No question.”
“Mine, too, sweetheart. Mine, too.”
I’m as thrilled as Natalie to be out of the house and cruising down the Pacific Coast Highway in the silver Mercedes sedan that will be hers when she gets her license. I’ve never given away one of my precious cars. It will be my pleasure to give this one to her.
“We need to schedule your road test. You’re ready.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’re doing a great job. You’d never know it’s been a while since you last drove.” I punch out a text to Addie asking her to get it booked for the week after the Oscars.
“I’m more comfortable than I was before.”
“While we’re on the subject of your comfort, I want to talk to you about the club.”
&nb
sp; “What about it?”
“I want you to be prepared for what to expect there.”
“Okay…”
“It’s hard for me to talk about this because I’m so conditioned not to.”
“I understand the need for discretion.”
“It goes beyond discretion, as much as I appreciate that. You’ll see people there you know and like. You’ll see Marlowe possibly dressed in leather, brandishing a riding crop as she makes some dude her bitch. You’ll see Hayden and his ropes, and perhaps Kristian and Emmett and Jasper in a variety of scenarios.”
“You’ve mentioned they’re all members.”
“The thing is, you can’t look at them with any kind of judgment, no matter what they might be doing or how shocking it might be to you. The club is their place to let loose. It’s where they go to be totally themselves. Every single thing that happens there is done under the basic tenets of safe, sane and consensual. Everyone is there because they want to be, even if they’re on the receiving end of something that might look awful to you. Everyone who is inflicting painful pleasure is doing so with the utmost care and concern for their subs. We don’t let anyone in there who doesn’t believe these things to be the core values of our lifestyle.”
“I understand exactly what you’re saying.”
“I’m not accusing you of being judgmental or anything like that. You’ve been the opposite of judgmental, but this is still very new to you.”
“Will they mind that I’m there?”
“No, sweetheart, they’ll be thrilled to see you there and to know you’ve fully accepted me and my lifestyle. They’ll be happy for both of us and eager to share this part of our lives and our friendship with you.” I glance at her and find her pondering what I’ve said in that adorable, serious way of hers. “It’s hard to explain until you’re really part of it, but by sharing this aspect of our lives, our friendships are deeper and more meaningful. We give each other a safe harbor to get away from the insanity of our public lives. Taking you there will be one of the greatest thrills of my life.”
“Even if we don’t do anything?”
“We won’t do anything. Not there. Not tonight. That’s something we’ll work up to. Tonight we’re there to observe.”
“What if…”
“Say it. There’s nothing you could say or ask that would be wrong.”
“What if I just can’t ever bring myself to have sex with you in public?”
“Then we won’t bring that part of our relationship to the club. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still be part of the club in other ways.”
“What other ways?”
“Supporting our friends and their need for the public demonstrations. Some people get off, big-time, on getting busy in public.”
“Do you?”
“I have, in the past, but it’s not an essential ingredient for me. You and I are forging our own path that works for us. Nothing and no one who came before us figures into that. If you told me that all I could ever have is what we’ve already done, I’d be more than satisfied.”
“But there’s more, right? Things you want to show me and teach me?”
“The variety and options are endless. We’re only limited by our own imaginations. But none of it has to happen in public if that’s not your thing—and I’d completely understand if it isn’t.”
“I haven’t decided anything yet. I’m reserving judgment until I have more information.”
“That’s a very wise way to approach it.” I look up to see that while we talked, we’ve driven almost to Redondo Beach. “Want to go check out the beach?”
“Can we do that?”
“Sure.” I grab my Dodgers ball cap from the backseat and put it on. “I’ll just send Seth a text to tell him we’re getting out.” We find a place to park and manage to get onto the beach without anyone noticing us. Natalie has her long, distinctive dark hair up in a bun that makes her look much younger than her twenty-three years. I’m feeling brave and daring today, so after a long walk on the beach with her and Fluff, who had a nice nap in the backseat while we were on the road, I lead her to a beachfront café, where we sit outside and enjoy the warm sunshine, drinks and an appetizer with a minimum amount of fuss from the waitstaff.
Josh and Seth are at a nearby table, keeping an eye on things. They are close enough to get involved if need be but far enough away to give us some privacy.
“This was a really nice day,” she says when we’re heading back toward the city.
“It was good to get out and get some air.” I’m driving because I want her to take a nap on the way home. I worry about her becoming overtired after being so sick. She truly scared the hell out of me with the way she went from fine to not fine in the matter of an hour and then spent two days in and out of it.
At one point, her fever had registered at one hundred and three. I was awake for two days keeping an eye on her and caring for her. I’ve never been so happy to see my mother as I was when she came to the hotel to check on us the second day. I hadn’t wanted to expose her to the flu, but she’d cried nonsense and spent half a day with me, keeping me company as I worried obsessively about Natalie.
The doctor had to tell me more than once that it was “just” the flu, and I had to be talked out of taking her to the ER on two different occasions. Thank God she’d rallied and is now almost fully recovered, but I won’t soon forget the fright of her illness or the loneliness of having her close by but unavailable. I hated that almost as much as I hated that she was sick in the first place.
I glance over to check on her and see that she’s asleep with Fluff rolled up in a ball on her lap. The two of them are so damned cute together, even if one of them likes to bite me.
I can’t wait for tonight, to take Natalie to the club and to introduce her to yet another facet of my life. I feel confident that she’s ready, that we’ve talked it all through and she’s prepared for what to expect. When I get home, I’ll text the others and let them know I’m bringing her by. They’ll appreciate the heads-up, and I fully expect them to be thrilled to welcome her.
Hayden, in particular, has expressed concern about me marrying someone outside our lifestyle, as that had been such a spectacular failure the last time around. That makes me think of Valerie, and I wonder if she has gotten the offer we arranged—to appear on a reality TV show about a fishing boat in Alaska.
Rather than confronting her and making her day with my rage over what she tried to do to Nat and me, Hayden suggested this route, and I have to admit it’s fucking brilliant. I smile to myself when I picture her in an environment she will find so far beneath her, but I’ve made sure it’s the only offer she’ll get for the immediate future.
She’ll have no choice but to take it, which will get her out of town and out of my hair for the time being. Our manager, Danielle, who took on Val only because I asked her to when we were married, was happy to facilitate something as far beneath Valerie’s self-determined standards as she could find.
When Danielle came back to us with the Alaskan fishing boat show, Hayden and I laughed our asses off and told her to go for it. Make it happen.
I’m fairly confident Valerie will have no doubt how she ended up in Alaska. She might blame me until the cows come home, but it isn’t my fault that she has no other options. Her reputation as a self-aggrandizing prima donna makes it so no one wants to work with her. That’s on her. The affair she had with our director at the end of our marriage won her no friends either, especially when it came to light that she broke up the director’s marriage to exact her revenge on me.
I haven’t forgotten the one ace she still holds in her hand—her knowledge of my sexual preferences. The only reason I’d ever care if that got out is because it might embarrass my parents. Not to mention the potential impact on my career. But that’s a much lesser concern. I don’t even want to think about my parents catching wind of my preference for kinky sex. The thought of that makes me feel like I’m getting the flu.
> Natalie is still asleep when we arrive at home, so I pick up her and the wildebeest and carry them inside, laying Nat on our bed and tucking her in for a while. We’ve got plenty of time. The club doesn’t really get busy until after ten anyway.
I take advantage of the free time to play with some thoughts on the big idea I had the other day. Before it goes much further, though, I need to talk to Natalie about it because the story that’s running around in my head is hers—and ours. Ever since the idea came to me, it’s almost all I can think about. I’ve learned to trust my gut in this business. If a project gives me the chills, chances are it will resonate with audiences, too. Jeremy’s story in Camouflage is a recent example of my instincts paying off in a big way. Not only is the film a huge critical and financial success, it’s racking up the awards, too.
I reach for my phone to call Hayden. I want his take. If he thinks it’s an awful idea, then there’s no point in pursuing it with Natalie.
“What’s up?” he asks when he takes the call.
“This and that. Did you get my text?”
“Yep. So are you doing a scene tonight?”
“No, nothing like that. We’re taking baby steps, but so far, so good. She’s curious about the club, so I figure I’d bring her by to get a feel for it.”
“I gotta say… I didn’t see that coming. In light of everything… From her past and all.”
“She’s got this inner strength that astounds me, and a determination not to let her past dictate her future.”
“I know I’ve been kind of a douche about her and you and everything, but I hope you know how happy I am for you.”
“Thanks, man.”
“And despite how it might’ve appeared on occasion, I like her and I like her for you, even more so now that you’re not hiding a big part of who you are from her.”
“I like her for me, too,” I say with a low laugh.
“I bet you do.”
“So listen, I’ve been thinking about something that I want to run by you.”
“Is it a title for the film that defies naming?”
“I wish.”
“So do I,” he says with a sigh.
“If it’s any consolation, the early cut is amazing.”
