by Nikki Sex
“What are you talking about?”
“Well that’s your M.O. isn’t it? Become upset, refuse to discuss it, decide everybody’s bad except you, and run away? The only reason you’re talking to me is because I’m here in your face. You didn’t answer my email, did you? You never bothered talking to your dad, either. You just had a fight and then took off, like a scalded cat.”
Visibly furious, Paul jumped to his feet. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my father never talked to me. I jumped through every hoop he threw my way for years, and you know what? Dad never even liked me. It drove me crazy, trying to meet his impossible standards. I couldn’t get the truth out of him. I’m sick of all the bullshit. I don’t ever intend to live like that again. I refuse to live a life of lies.”
“Really? Well I don’t need anybody in my life that just runs away whenever there’s a problem. Someone who refuses to discuss anything! They say that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. So I know what you’ll do, Paul. At the first sign of any trouble, you’ll be gone.”
“Fuck you!” he yelled, his face as black as thunder.
“Yes! Thank you! You did fuck me, Paul, and that was the best sex I’ve ever had. But you know what? Sex isn’t everything, and I deserve better. I’m not perfect. I screwed up royally and I have to live with that. But guess what, Paul?”
Emily pointed a finger at him, surprised by her aggression. “Take a good, long look at yourself. You aren’t perfect, either. Yes, I deceived you. Yes, I tricked you into thinking I was someone else. Someone you didn’t think of as your little sister, and someone you were really happy to fuck. Too bad. Now it’s time to just get over it.”
“Get over it? Get over what? That you deceived me? That you intentionally tricked me into having sex with you? That you took dirty pictures of me without my consent, while I was asleep?”
Her face heated over that last shot. It was a low blow. They weren’t dirty pictures, they were art, and they were beautiful. She hadn’t asked for his consent, though, and she was a crazy stalker. There was no getting past that. It was yet another way that she’d violated him and his trust.
Sensing that he’d made a hit, Paul continued his offensive. “The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior,” he said in a mocking tone, repeating what she’d said to him. “Well then, you turned out to be my own personal paparazzi. Not to mention the trouble and intense effort you went through just to trick me into sleeping with you. What a liar! How could I ever trust you again?”
“How can I trust you to spend more than five seconds in one place?” she snapped back. “The only thing I know I can depend on, is that you’ll never sit down and talk to me, like an adult. You say your father never communicated? Well you know what? You’re just like him, because neither do you!”
Paul physically recoiled back into his chair, as if he’d been stabbed. Apparently that last shot really struck a raw nerve, or perhaps an open wound. Emily could see his pulse beating at his temple – he looked as if he was going to explode. Good, she thought, wanting to get under his skin.
“Liar!” he leaned forward, shouting at her.
“Coward!” she shouted back, every bit as mad as he was. She pointed her finger at him again. “And you know what, Paul? You promised that you’d never hate me, no matter what you found out about me. So you lied to me, too!”
A flash of hurt and realization showed in Paul’s dark eyes with that last parting shot. Who would’ve expected that she could have come up with such perfect last words?
Ha! she thought. With that, Emily stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind her.
Chapter 34. Letting Go
Emily went into her office and shut the door. Then she fell against it, her overheated back resting against the hard, cool surface. Blood pounded in her ears, and her breath came short and fast. Her whole body tingled, but strangely, she felt invigorated.
God, it felt good to yell at Paul. She’d never get over him. Emily knew she would love him until her dying breath, but at least she could look at herself in the mirror.
I have to be strong. I love him with all my heart, and I always will. But if he can’t love me, if he won’t even talk to me about this like an adult, then that’s too bad for him. I deserve better.
Emily sat down at her desk, and called André. He’d said he’d be there for her.
When he answered, she filled him in on the details of what had been going on in her snarled up life. The photos were an element he’d known nothing about. It wasn’t that she was hiding them exactly, they just hadn’t come up.
Frankly, they’d seemed rather insignificant to the big picture when she’d initially relayed her story to André. It was ironic that one, seemingly trivial detail, brought her whole world crashing down around her.
She told him about Marilyn, Paul’s ex, and how beautiful she was. Emily explained how during their time in Cabo, Paul initially requested that she participate in a threesome with his friend, Jai.
Emily had seen Paul, Marilyn and Jai together, and suspected they’d all hooked up. The idea of Paul being with Marilyn really hurt. Finally, with real pleasure, she told him how she’d yelled at Paul.
“I’m really glad I let him have it, André,” she said. “I know I’ve made major mistakes, but he’s no saint, either. Anyway, it’s a big world out there. If Paul doesn’t want me, I’ll find someone else. Someone who can appreciate me.”
“You are most wise. What do you propose to do now, ma petite lapine?”
“Sadly, André, I don’t really have a plan. I’d like to run away. Go somewhere and lick my wounds, except I can’t leave Paul’s dad, or my mom. I can’t abandon the supermarket, either, not like this.” Emily sighed. “I’d quit, but I have too many responsibilities. I don’t want to let Paul’s dad down.”
The sound of André’s carefree laughter came over the phone. It surprised her, because she didn’t feel as if anything she said was the least bit funny. “Take heart, Emily,” he said. “The tangled threads, now they all come together in a knot, I think. It is a most promising moment. I would like to meet your mother.”
“Oh?” Huh? That mother comment certainly came out of left field.
“Mais oui,” André said, “I should like to make the acquaintance of Beauty, as well. This would be convenient for me tomorrow. It is suitable? If so, what time shall I pick you up after work?”
“Seriously, André? You’re going fly all the way out here from Las Vegas?”
“But of course! I make the holiday. It is my wish to see Devil’s Lake.” Emily interrupted him, unable to contain a burst of laughter.
“Tomorrow, ma petite lapine, when you go to work, it may be best that you dress un peu, just a little, like the most desirable Candy, n'est-ce pas?”
Emily blinked with an inner vision of herself at work, intentionally dressed to tease. “My God, Paul will freak out,” she said, surprising herself with a giggle.
“Very true. Together, you and I will make Paul Jarman, oh-so jealous. If he asks, tell him the truth, that you met me at The Basement. Now, you have decided that we should, how do you say? Ah, ‘hook up.’ You may find the opportunity to explain to Monsieur Jarman that you wish a more mature man, and perhaps also a much more experienced Dom, no?”
“Jesus, André! That’ll kill him! It’s going to be hard to keep a straight face.”
André’s mellow laugh brushed over her like sensual velvet. “If you wish to truly punish him, ma petite lapine,” he said in a low voice, “tell him that you have accepted my gracious offer to train you as a submissive. Explain to him that with practice, you will be able to orgasm on command.”
Emily burst out laughing. “André, you are absolutely diabolical! And a genius. I stand in awe.”
She could imagine André’s boyish grin when he replied, “Mais oui, it is true. When it comes to people and relationships, I am very clever.” Emily laughed again, but then there was a long moment of silence.
>
“What is it, ma petite lapine? I can hear you thinking very loudly.”
“André,” Emily said pensively. “I’m thinking about a number of things.”
“Bon! I wish to hear them all,” he assured her.
Emily leaned back in her comfortable leather office chair, and tried to put her thoughts together. “I don’t want to trick Paul anymore, André. That’s how I got into this mess in the first place. I think I’ve learned my lesson there. Still your plan is very good. Um, I’d like to discuss my actual intentions.” She cleared her throat, and shifted restlessly on her chair.
“Very good,” he said in a quiet attentive voice. “Tell me.”
Emily smiled, imagining him on the other end of the phone. André would listen to whatever she had to say. Wherever he was in Las Vegas, and regardless of what he was doing before she called, all of his attention now was on her.
“You see,” she began, “I really loved being sexually dominated by Paul, and by you. And the people I’ve met at the club are fantastic. I guess what I’m trying to say is, can what I tell Paul be true? If Paul doesn’t want me, can I hook up with you? It won’t be a lie, then.”
She hurried to elaborate in a rush of words then. “I’m not really looking for something permanent, André. I promise not to stalk you or anything, so you don’t have to be worried about that. I’m just talking about moving on. I want to take positive steps in another direction. I’m not going to put my life on hold anymore.”
A string of voluble French came through the phone. Emily didn’t understand a word of it. “Emily, you remind me of my own principles. Deceit is a barrier to intimacy. Yet, in my desire to punish Paul Jarman for his foolishness, such trickery came without thought. Et voila. I value your judgement. And so, you have corrected me, and I thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied, her face heating with embarrassment and pleasure.
“Ce qui sera sera. What will be will be. You have wisdom and courage beyond your years, ma petite lapine. But I think I must now call you petite lionne, for you are more like the lioness, n'est-ce pas? I would be honored to teach you all I know. It shall be as you say.”
When Emily hung up the phone, she felt more comfortable with herself than she had for a very long time. The worst had already happened. Paul was no longer her friend, and he was no longer her lover.
Somehow I’ve survived.
She’d gained strength and perspective by realizing that he wasn’t perfect, either. And unless he acknowledged his faults and tried to change, she didn’t want him. Well. That wasn’t exactly true. She’d always want Paul.
Emily made an important decision to avoid dishonesty. She didn’t need it, and for once, she felt hopeful. She wanted to be true to herself. As much as she loved Paul, her future didn’t have to have him in it, in order for her to be happy.
Knowing that was incredibly liberating, and empowering.
I’ve learned so much, she mused.
She remembered one of the lines of a poem, the Desiderata. ‘And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.’
Was there such a thing as fate? Was all this crap she’d put herself through necessary? Emily had no idea. With André she’d already experienced trust and the healing joy of surrender. Maybe that was what she had been meant to learn.
Every so often in life, you have no control. And instead of fighting, you can choose to accept what life brings you, and make the best of it.
Sometimes the real pleasure, is in just letting go.
Ce qui sera sera.
With a lighter heart, Emily threw her hands into the air and left everything up to fate.
Chapter 35. Torment
Paul felt like a heated ball of pent up energy. It was the kind of energy only a fierce brawl, or mastering a woman and all night sex would satisfy.
He felt like he was going up and down like a yo-yo. Never in his life, had he experienced such strong and conflicting emotions.
To him, Emily was a child; yet as Candy, she was a grown woman with a mind of her own. A mind that he’d enjoyed, respected and even loved, until this world came crashing down with the knowledge of the double life she’d been leading.
Paul cared for Emily like a little sister, but he wanted to dominate her as Candy. And he despised her for her calculated deception and seduction. He was a ball of confusing, competing urges. First he wanted to ignore her and never speak to her again. Second he imagined spanking her within an inch of her life, until she was really, really sorry, and finally he wanted to fuck her senseless – never letting her go.
The problem was only getting worse.
Then Emily came to work dressed as Candy. As soon as he saw her in her sexy, feisty outfit, he got an aching boner that just wouldn’t go away. Paul felt like a horny teenager again, with no self-control. In the end, he had to go to the bathroom and jack off, just for a bit of peace.
His body knew what it wanted.
Jesus. Short skirt, three inch heels and that plunging neckline in a skintight sweater made no attempt to hide that beautiful rack of hers. Her makeup hadn’t been over-the-top, as it had been in Cabo, but those long thick eyelashes? Well, they made those blue eyes of hers really stand out.
“Sorry, I have to leave early, Paul,” Emily said carelessly, as she walked past him toward the front of the store. “I have a date.”
Paul followed right behind her, thoughtlessly snapping out an angry response. “Is that why you’re dressed like that? Because you have a date?”
“Yes.”
“Who is this guy?” Paul said, wishing he could take the question back. What did he care, anyway? Candy – that is, Emily, could date whoever he she wanted. He didn’t need a liar in his life.
Except that he didn’t want her to date anyone else.
A powerful feeling came over him then, something he could never recall experiencing before. It snarled up his insides and made him feel mean and surly as a half-starved wolf. Paul realized suddenly that he was jealous.
Emily raised her eyebrows. At first, he thought she looked haughty, but her guileless expression, was more curious than anything else. “Why do you care?”
“Fine, don’t tell me,” he snapped.
“I don’t mind telling you. His name is André Chevalier. I met him at The Basement. He’s here for the weekend, staying at the Holiday Inn. Isn’t that great? André’s a very experienced Dom and he’s promised to train me as a submissive.”
“What?” Paul yelled out loud. A number of staff and customers looked their way.
“Jesus, Paul, what’s the big deal?” Emily said irritably, in a lowered voice. “You and your friend, Jai are having threesomes with Marilyn. And you won’t even talk to me.”
“I’m not having sex with Marilyn,” Paul blurted out, and then wondered why he’d been compelled to tell her that.
A flash of surprise crossed her face. “You’re not?”
“No, I’m not. But it’s you that I’m worried about.”
“Oh really?” Emily rolled her eyes with disbelief and strode out the door.
Paul followed right behind, grabbing her by her upper arm. “You don’t even know this guy!”
“Yes I do. André gave me that amazing flogging. It resulted in a mind-blowing orgasm, didn’t I tell you? I’m sure I sent you an email about it. Anyway, André says, that with training, I’ll be able to orgasm on command.”
“What?” Paul gasped, his mind barely able to keep up. ‘André says, André says,’ the phrase rang in his ears. He felt like he was in a boxing ring, with his defenses down, receiving one punishing blow after another.
Just then, a metallic black Audi A8L pulled up in front of them. It was a sweet ride that would’ve ordinarily caught Paul’s attention, except that he was still reeling from the ‘orgasm on command’ comment from Emily, and the thought of her having sex with another guy.
Emily smiled and waved, as a well-to-do businessman turned off the igni
tion and got out. Paul could hardly move for a moment, as the man greeted Emily by wrapping himself around her and kissing each cheek.
“Bonjour, ma petite lapine,” he said in a strong, confident voice. “You are stunning. I have brought you a gift.” André reached into the back of the car, and drew out a long, elegant golden box with a red bow.
Emily gave a feminine cry of pleasure. “André, you shouldn’t have!” Pulling loose the ribbon, she quickly opened the box. Inside were at least twenty-four fresh red roses – not the cheap kind. Paul could smell them from where he stood.
“It is nothing, ma petite. Beautiful flowers for a most beautiful woman.”
Paul eyed him with hostility. The man’s confidence, his sissy-boy accent and the way he sucked up to Emily made him want to throw up. Paul had a strong desire to punch this self-assured, irritating Frenchman right in the nose. Unfortunately, as they were at the front of his dad’s store, he couldn’t.
“André, thank you so much. It’s wonderful to see you again.” Emily said. “May I introduce you to my boss? This is Paul Jarman. Paul, André. André, Paul.”
Emily’s date put his hand out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Paul took it. The two men met, performing the traditional greeting.
Paul’s hand was damp; André’s wasn’t.
The smarmy bastard was a cool customer, Paul decided, and most likely he was an experienced Dom. It showed in the confidence and power he radiated, his firm lips, and attentive sharp-eyed gaze. Even the man’s handshake was strong.
“A pleasure,” André said. It sounded like ‘a play-zhure.’ While the jerk’s accent only irritated him, Paul knew that women, in general, and more particularly Emily, would find it fascinating.
Resentful, angry, jealous and dismayed, Paul said nothing. Silently, he studied the unwelcome visitor. They were the same height and weight, but the Frenchman was ten to fifteen years older than Emily was.
Cradle snatcher, Paul thought nastily. He didn’t like the look of him, from his elegant clothes, and well-manicured hands to that small twitch in his lips that seemed to be the start of a smile. Just what was so God damned funny?
