Borderline

  Bob felt his face heat despite the teasing tone in Landry’s voice. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “No apologies necessary. But to clarify, while the stipulation about you discussing things with us before sleeping with someone applies, you are free to date. Playing is different. Obviously, we don’t date.”

  “I don’t need to date, Sir.”

  Landry cupped his cheek. “What am I going to do with you, pet?”

  Maybe some men might be put off being called that.

  Bob didn’t. When mixed with Landry’s slight accent, and his demeanor, it…felt completely right.

  “Whatever Sir wants to do with me. I told you that. Within my hard limits, I’m here for Sir’s pleasure.”

  Landry’s touch lingered. “What if I told you we’d decided to put full sex on the table and I want to bend you over and fuck you right now?”

  Bob’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’d ask Sir what piece of furniture he wanted me bent over and hope he uses lube.”

  Landry’s gaze narrowed. “Without hesitation?”

  “Are you telling me you want me bent over, Sir?” His cock throbbed again, hopeful that’s what Landry meant.

  “It was a hypothetical.”

  A sad sigh escaped him. “Darn.”

  Lightning fast, Landry spun him around, shoving him face-first against the wall, yanking his left arm back and up behind him. Landry jerked Bob’s shirttails out of his slacks, pulled up Bob’s shirt to expose his right side, leaned in, and bit him, hard, along his rib cage.

  Bob whined, gasped, moaned, but didn’t struggle.

  Not once.

  Never.

  Landry let out a low, rumbling growl from deep in his throat. It’d been a few weeks since they’d engaged in feral play.

  Bob loved getting pinned down, bitten.

  Jerked off as a consolation for losing to them.

  Although, now in retrospect, he realized maybe it was a reward for losing.

  Potay-toh, potah-toh.

  He felt Landry sucking as he bit, hard, likely leaving behind a mark that would, hopefully, turn dark purple by later that night.

  Bob’s cock painfully throbbed as he waited for the sadist to finish his fun.

  Landry finally straightened and released Bob’s arm, but he pressed his body against Bob’s, the hard outline of his cock obvious through Bob’s slacks and Landry’s shorts.

  “Such a good boy for me.” He kissed Bob’s cheek and when he suddenly stepped back, Bob almost fell.

  Landry chuckled as he reached out to steady him. “I know, that was mean of me. Sorry, not sorry. Oh, and boy?”

  Bob managed to get turned around without falling down. “Yes, Sir?”

  “Do not masturbate before Friday. If you can hold out, even after what I just did, I shall have another special reward for you.”

  He nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  Landry wore a wide, evil smile as he opened the door for Bob. Bob had to take a couple of deep breaths to try to drive subspace back.

  It felt damned close.

  Soooo close.

  “Text me as soon as you arrive home, pet. I want to know you made it safely. That’s in addition to your good-night text later.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  As Bob drove toward the front gate, he realized he was crying.

  Not wanting to leave.

  Wishing he never had to leave them.

  Wishing he could spend the rest of his life with them.

  Chapter Eight

  Back to the past…

  Charlene sat sideways across his lap, her arms draped around his neck. “You heard me, silly.”

  Bob had heard her, all right, but he was still…processing.

  And he’d been hoping he heard wrong.

  Anything but a yes answer would lead to a bunch of complicated and likely very messy conversations he really didn’t want to have.

  And he loved her, right?

  Didn’t he?

  He supposed he did.

  Also, he couldn’t think of a good reason to justify a no.

  “Yes.”

  She grinned, leaning in to kiss him. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” She playfully tousled his hair. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  They’d been dating eight months, living together one of those. She’d moved in with him after her lease had come due.

  It was…good. Things were…fine.

  She wasn’t Louise, and he really hadn’t gotten into those kinds of discussions with her like he’d had with Louise, but then again, Charlene wasn’t Louise. For starters, Charlene was his age, a lot younger than Louise.

  There’d never seemed to be a right time to have those discussions with Charlene, either. Plus he’d been busy at work, his first job after getting his degree, and busting his ass every day to impress his bosses, then coming home to take care of stuff around the apartment, and then…

  Things got away from him. Before he knew it, they’d been dating, she’d moved in, and now she’d just proposed to him. Honestly, he hadn’t told her much about Louise, except that she’d been his girlfriend, and then she’d moved, which was why they broke up.

  He’d…left out a few facts about her being much older and dominant.

  Charlene had a good job. She was a teller at a bank not far down the road from his office in Sarasota. That was how they met, eating lunch at the same restaurant in the plaza where her bank was located. After the third time running into each other there, they started talking and before he knew it, she’d asked him out.

  Of course he’d said yes, if for no other reason than she’d asked him.

  She had plans to work her way up to becoming a bank manager even as she went to school part-time at night to earn her four-year degree.

  She had no problem making decisions or telling him what she wanted.

  Maybe she wasn’t as strong-willed as Louise, but that was okay. Maybe this was better.

  Someone closer to his own age.

  Someone practical and with the same long-term financial goals.

  Someone responsible.

  Someone…hungry to succeed in life.

  “You know, you almost scared me there for a moment,” she said. “I thought you were going to say no.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Why, indeed?

  He couldn’t really give her a good reason to say no that wouldn’t crush her.

  Maybe the past was best left in the past, put behind him. Fun memories of his crazy college days, where he spent a chunk of time as not much more than a rent boy to a dominant cougar professor who taught him more than he’d ever dreamed outside of a classroom.

  Not just about life, but about himself.

  They were days which had helped make him who he was.

  The question remained unanswered, for him, who he would still become within the confines of the structure he knew had begun to weigh heavy on his shoulders.

  Maybe all he had to do was simply…live.

  Maybe that would be good enough.

  * * * *

  “Could you just for once make a damn decision, Bob?”

  He stared at Charlene. “Why are you upset?”

  “Because I asked you a simple damn question and you toss it back on me like you always do.”

  “I told you, I don’t have a preference.”

  She rubbed at her temples. “I…” She sighed. “Just tell me where you fucking want to eat dinner tonight, and say anything except that you don’t have a preference! I don’t care if you fucking pick McDonald’s, but fucking pick!”

  “Olive Garden,” he quietly said, knowing she enjoyed it even though he wasn’t fond of the place.

  “Fine! Thank you! Was that really so goddamned hard? God! You fucking wear me out!” She snatched her purse and laptop case off the table. “I’ll see you tonight.” She slammed the door on her way out.

  He had to leave for work in less than ten minutes if he didn’t want to be late. Since he was
the boss, he shouldn’t be late.

  Five years into their marriage, and she was in charge of personal accounts at the bank, and he’d opened his own office.

  And they’d never been farther apart personally.

  He’d tried, tried damned hard. He never asked her to do any chores, never asked for help. Tried to do things for her, serve her.

  It seemed no matter what he did lately, it was wrong.

  Why did he have to pick where they ate? And why’d she get so mad at him over it?

  She called him at lunch. “I’m sorry I blew up at you this morning. I think I’m PMSing.”

  “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He knew the problem absolutely was him, he just didn’t know…why.

  What to do to fix this for her.

  “Look, when I ask you a question, answer it, okay? Don’t throw the decision back on me. If I’d wanted the final say, I would have told you where I wanted to go. It’s like you deliberately try to push my buttons and make shit complicated sometimes.”

  “I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t care.”

  “I don’t want to go deciding everything.”

  Why not?

  That would go a long way to making him totally happy, if she did.

  Something else he couldn’t talk about. Not really. Not this long into their marriage.

  “I didn’t know it would get you so upset,” he finally said.

  “I didn’t either, and that’s the thing.” She sounded like she took a deep breath. “I appreciate everything you do around the house. Don’t think I don’t. But I need you to…step up some in terms of decisions. It feels like you leave everything except the financial stuff up to me. If you could meet me halfway, the way you do with the financials, that would really make me happy. I don’t mind doing chores but you never leave anything for me to do. Share the burden some, huh?”

  Isn’t doing things for her more than meeting her halfway?

  But…on the other hand, he got it. “Yeah,” he quietly said. “Okay.”

  “Thank you, sweetie.” Another pause. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  But after they ended the phone call, he realized he really wasn’t happy. Neither was she, from the sound of it.

  * * * *

  Bob had called in that Monday morning with food poisoning. He wasn’t sure what did it to him, except now he knew that particular sushi buffet place was no longer on his list of approved eating locations. Charlene had lucked out and managed not to get it, and neither had their friends.

  She’d acted distant the past couple of weeks, the strain of her new position as the bank’s assistant manager really starting to weigh on her. He’d gone out of his way to make sure he did more around the apartment, less stress for her when she got home. Dinner out with friends had been to celebrate her promotion, but while everyone had been laughing and happy he’d plastered a smile on his face and…pretended.

  Somehow, he had a feeling there was something bad coming down the line.

  Unfortunately, he had no clue what that something was.

  When she arrived home at her usual time, he was still lying on the couch, a garbage can on the floor next to him, just in case.

  “How you feeling?” she asked.

  “I’ll live. I think. Maybe.”

  She kicked off her shoes and dumped her purse and laptop case in the easy chair. In another year, they’d be buying a house and get out of the apartment, finally. They’d wanted to save up for a down payment while padding their retirement accounts.

  It’s what responsible people did, right?

  She settled on the floor next to him. “We need to talk,” she quietly said.

  “This doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s…not. And I’m sorry that the timing works out like this, with you sick.” She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “You’re going to be served papers tomorrow morning, before eight.”

  “Served?”

  It took her a moment to say it, and she still wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “Divorce papers.”

  Aaaaaaand there it was.

  “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry, Bob. I love you, and you’re a great guy, but…” Another sigh, another pause. “I need a guy who I don’t have to fight to get to make decisions. I am in charge all damn day at work. I don’t want to be in charge when I’m home.”

  “I’m in charge at work.”

  “I know. I get it, but in a healthy relationship, people…take turns. I’ve talked and talked and talked with you about this until I’m blue in the face. I guess it’s just who you are.”

  “I thought you wanted to be in charge.” Hell, she’d proposed to him.

  “We met when we were still really young, and we’ve both grown and changed a lot over the past ten years. I’m not the same person I was.”

  He pretty much was, but he supposed she was trying to spare his feelings.

  “Did you meet someone?”

  “No. Not yet. But I caught myself thinking things several weeks ago about a guy, caught myself flirting with him, and it finally hit me that while I love you, I’m not in love with you anymore. This isn’t fair to you, either. You’re practically my butler. I don’t understand how you’re not bitching up a storm. And when I try to help out, it’s almost like you freak out about it, and then I feel even more guilty.”

  Well, that much was true. He could take care of stuff. She didn’t have to.

  He didn’t realize he’d…freaked out, though.

  “Why now?” he finally asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. The promotion. That guy. It’s a perfect storm. It finally smacked me upside the head. I’m not looking for alimony, either. We don’t have a house. We each keep our cars, we have our own retirement accounts. We split the savings and checking accounts as best we can, you getting more because you were paying more in for years. We shake hands and go our separate ways. Our lease will be up in six months, and it’ll take about that long for the divorce to be finalized. I can’t be the kind of woman you seem to need, and it’s not fair of me to try to make you into the kind of guy I need. If it hasn’t worked by now, obviously it’s not going to.”

  “I thought women liked guys who took care of them.”

  “But it’s like you…” She stared at the ceiling for a moment before her gaze settled on him. “I need a guy who doesn’t mind sometimes walking through the room, grabbing me, and taking charge. That’s not you. I have no doubts you’d put yourself between me and a speeding car or a bad guy or something. You’re fantastic in bed. You’re a sweetheart and I trust you. But what I thought would take root and grow over the years…hasn’t.

  “Maybe I’m an idiot. Maybe I’m going to look back on this, see you marry someone else, and want to kill myself for my stupidity. But life’s short, and we only get one shot at it. It’s too easy to waste life. And I don’t want to be the bitch woman who ends up cheating on her nice-guy husband because she realized maybe she kinda pushed him into marrying her in the first place.”

  He felt his face heat, and it had nothing to do with whatever intestinal beasts were currently rampaging through his system.

  “Because I kinda did just that,” she quietly said. “When I think back on it. You didn’t think you could say no to me, did you?”

  He finally shook his head.

  Why lie?

  He hadn’t let himself think about Louise in well over a year, at least. He hadn’t wanted to think about those days and nights with her, when the universe felt perfect and he was exactly where he should be in it.

  Under her, in every way.

  Happily.

  She reached out and cupped his cheek. “Bob, there is a perfect woman out there for you, and she’s going to give you what you need. But…I’m tired. I’m tired of no matter how many times I’ve begged you to make a decision, when I ask you where you want to go for dinner, you lay it back on me.
It’s like I hate to ask you the question now. The only reason I agreed to dinner last night is you really seemed to want to do something. And…I feel even guiltier that you’re sick.”

  She turned her hand over, feeling his forehead with the back of her fingers. “Can I run to the store and get you something? I guess I should have called before I came home. Gatorade? Soup? Anything?”

  He started to say nothing, but that would have been a lie, too. A lie to not burden her.

  “Gatorade and chicken broth would be great, thanks.”

  “Okay.”

  He was able to hold off until she’d changed clothes and left to go to the store to stagger his way to the bathroom, puke, and cry.

  While there was pain…

  Mostly there was relief.

  And not a little sadness.

  Chapter Nine

  The here and now…

  Bob ran through his mental to-do list in his head as he left Orlando. With Tilly, KC, and Lucas safely deposited at the airport for their flight to London, now he had to pick up Skye and take her to Landry’s house.

  Tonight, Landry was going to assess the situation, see if Axel could man up and be the Dom Skye needed.

  If not…she’d be hanging around for a while. Well, part-time, not like he hung around.

  Not that he minded. Skye was nice, and Landry and Cris had both been careful to temper their interactions with her with heaping doses of caution. Landry, especially, went out of his way to tailor the sessions with her and her protocols with him to help prevent her clinging to him.

  They had Bob do her aftercare, which he didn’t mind. He wasn’t attracted to her like that, just as a friend.

  And it was a useful service to Landry and Cris, making it even better for Bob.

  Tilly was in complete agreement that they didn’t need a full-time subby running around the house besides Bob. That if things tanked between Skye and Axel, Tilly would set the Frightful Five on the job to find Skye a Dom of her own sooner rather than later.