Jennifer pulled on a skimpy skirt that showed off her body before fluffing her hair. She took me to a bar that wasn’t far. I’d never been there, but I hadn’t been in ninety percent of the local bars. Once we made it through the crowd, we both sat on stools along the bar top.
As usual, Jennifer held the conversation through our first two drinks. The woman could talk, and talk she did. I was thankful she wasn’t relying upon me to really answer or interact to keep up the flow of chatter since my head was a mess. After our first two drinks, though, I felt everything loosening and relaxing for the first time in weeks. Halfway through our third drink, I found myself talking about John.
“I miss him,” I slurred slightly before taking another pull off my drink.
“Go get your man then.” Jennifer acted as if it was so simple.
“I can’t. I’m pretty sure he’s fucking his secretary and I’m nothing compared to her.” I leaned my elbows on the table as I shook my head.
“I don’t even need to see her to know you’re better than her.” Jennifer looked me up and down even though she couldn’t see my lower half, which was hidden by the table. “You just don’t see how amazing you are.”
“Wait until you see her. You’ll see what I’m talking about. Plus, I don’t need a man who cheats. Even if she is better looking than me, he should have the balls to break up with me first.” I glared at my drink, seeing his face in it. I slammed back what was left in the glass so I didn’t have to see it anymore.
“You’re right there, girl. No woman should have to put up with a cheater.” She waved her arm for another round.
We had moved away from the bar to a small table so our conversation wouldn’t be heard by everyone.
“Since you’re over, you have to tell me… Is he packing heat? Or is it all for show?” Her glossy eyes dilated. I could tell she was thinking about all the naughty things she wanted to do to him between the sheets. Jealousy flared inside me, but I shoved it back since I no longer had any rights to him.
“Yeah, he’s got it all and then some,” I sighed, feeling the need to give her some juicy details even though it tugged at my heart to talk about how amazing he fucked. He was likely bending his little secretary over and doing all the things he used to do to me to her. “He’s good in every way.”
“Aw, it was supposed to be a joke, not make you feel worse. Sorry, I’m not good at break-up chat.” Jennifer’s grin was replaced by a frown, making her look awkward. Frowning wasn’t something she did often, while I’d mastered the face. “Let’s drink until you forget who he even is.”
And we did. Almost. I don’t think I could physically drink enough to forget the man who owned my heart, not and still be breathing anyway. Somehow I made it back to my place. The last part of the night was scattered bits and pieces as the alcohol took over, robbing me of the memories.
I had to work the next day so going out and getting so completely blitzed probably wasn’t the best idea. Sitting on my couch nursing a water to hopefully ward off a hangover in the morning, I stared at my computer. I really needed someone to talk to. I had no one I could really tell everything to. Jennifer would likely understand, but then she’d admitted to not being good with men and the complications that came with them since she didn’t hang around long enough for them to arise.
Finally I blew out a long breath and pulled up the online counseling site. It had been a long time since I’d used it, since I’d felt like I had a good handle on life, but everything was crashing down and it was the one place I could go to not be judged while being completely open.
Counselor21: Good evening. Or should I say morning? How have you been?
BadKitty2: Not so well.
Counselor21: What changed? You were gone for a while, so I assume everything was good then.
BadKitty2: He cheated.
Counselor21: Did you talk to him about it or catch him in the act?
BadKitty2: No.
Counselor21: Then how do you know?
BadKitty2: Call it a woman’s intuition.
Counselor21: That’s it? Just a hunch?
BadKitty2: Hunches can be more telling than the heart or brain, which are easily swayed.
Counselor21: But do you have anything to support your hunch?
BadKitty2: I do. Lipstick on his neck. Wasn’t mine.
Counselor21: Anything else?
BadKitty2: Rumors. Overheard people talking.
Counselor21: I really think what you need to do is sit down and talk to him about it. Let him know why you are feeling the way you are. See if he can give any explanations or put your worries to rest. I’m not saying he is or isn’t, but at least give him the chance to have his say. If after your conversation you still feel he is cheating maybe it would be best to take a break.
BadKitty2: You’re crazier than I am! Like he’d just admit it.
Counselor21: Not necessarily, but it gives you the chance to look into his face as he lies (or tells the truth) and that is where you’ll get your answer.
BadKitty2: Yeah, maybe. Thanks.
Counselor21: It’s what I’m here for.
I logged off the computer feeling better than I had in days. The counselor was right. I could look at John and tell if he was hiding something as I told him what I knew. I would go see him during lunch when he’d be stuck in the office and unable to turn things against me and my possibly treacherous body. It wouldn’t be easy to face him, but it might help the ache that lived in my chest, or help get me some closure.
I fell into bed and prayed the next time I was there I’d have more peace of mind while being on the path to getting over the biggest heartbreak of my life. Did I think he could possibly be telling the truth about not cheating? In some small corner of my mind, I did. However, it was easier to focus on the worst outcome because it was what I expected in life.
In the morning, I dressed carefully for work, taking extra time on my hair and makeup, wanting to look as well put-together as I could for such a heavy conversation. My hands shook, my knees were weak and I had bags under my eyes from not sleeping well since I’d left him, but after a few layers of concealer at least one problem was less noticeable.
The early hours of work ticked by and I chewed at my nails as I stared at the clock. Finally lunch rolled around and I grabbed my purse before hustling through the lobby. I wanted to get it over with. The door to his office slammed open unintentionally and I looked at Mariah behind her desk. She sent me a bright smile of triumph.
“Oh, Alix. I don’t believe John was expecting you. He’s super busy and plain exhausted. I’ve worn him out today.” She sighed contentedly and ran her fingers through her hair, which was oddly out of place and tangled. She smirked as she hastily brought it back to order and the door to John’s office opened.
Glancing up, I sucked in a breath. John stood, shocked, with one hand on the door, the other resting on the frame.
“Alix,” he whispered.
“John.” I crossed my arms over my chest when he reached a hand toward me. His hand fell short and he turned abruptly to Mariah.
“I need my messages and a new notepad — for some reason the one I have is mangled,” he told her before turning back to me. “Let me reschedule this patient, then I’ll be free.”
“I’ll wait.” I turned jerkily on my heel and sat in one of the vacant chairs.
Mariah jumped up and rushed to get the items he requested before handing them over. They spoke in hushed tones for a moment before he returned to the office and she glared at me.
“Well, I guess I’m taking an early lunch.” Mariah scowled as she retrieved her purse from under the desk. She stepped around the desk to stop in front of me. “If he’s looking for his briefcase, it’s under my desk.”
I nodded, looking not at her but at the door John was behind. She left the office and minutes later a couple exited his office, leaving the door slightly ajar.
“Alix?” I heard him call out. “I have to find my briefcase and then I
’m taking the afternoon off to spend with you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I just need a few minutes.” I stood and moved behind the desk to grab his briefcase.
“We have a lot to talk about. I don’t want to be worried about appointments. They can be moved.” His voice carried out from his office as I heard rustling.
As I wrapped my hand around the handle of the briefcase, my eyes locked on something in the trash can right next to it. A condom. A used condom. What the fuck? I back pedaled as my heart thumped in my chest. It couldn’t be. I didn’t need any other conversation, that one item told me enough. John said he didn’t have sex in his office, and I knew he didn’t allow his patients to either, so there was only one way that condom came to be there. He really was fucking Mariah. It was the only conclusion I could come up with as my vision greyed and pain swarmed over me. Dropping the case, I ran for the door.
“Damn it. Not again!” I heard John yell from behind me, but I didn’t stop until I was in a cab parked in front of the hotel.
My heart was breaking and I couldn’t handle seeing him attempt to deny everything straight to my face. I didn’t think the pain could get any worse than it had been, but I was wrong. So wrong.
When it had been a possibility, I had held on to a shred of hope things could be fixed, but not after knowing he was fucking her where he’d refused to fuck me. I couldn’t handle it. There was absolutely nothing left to salvage. Nothing left to repair. It was gone in a matter of seconds. A chance glimpse of something I was never supposed to see.
Chapter 14
John
This was it. Alix was in my office. It’d been painfully hard for me to play an impartial party when she’d shown up for online counseling the night before. I had followed her to the bar and made sure she returned home by herself. If she had tried to bring someone home with her I probably would’ve gone insane, but she didn’t. She was alone when she arrived at her place and I sat in my car just feet from her to act as her counselor, the exact reason I had a mobile hotspot. I had no idea where she’d gotten the idea I was cheating on her, except for the lipstick, which confused me still. Unfortunately, she wasn’t willing to divulge such information online.
As hard as it was, I tried to go about my normal business meeting with clients the following day, but when she’d shown up I’d told the couple in my office I had a family emergency that needed to be handled immediately and they’d understood. I’d dismissed Mariah so it’d only be the two of us. I was to the point where I was willing to do something I’d never once in my life done — get down on my knees and beg her to let me try to explain.
Then before I could even get everything gathered and secured so I could spend the rest of the day with her, she was gone. Just that fast something had spooked her and she’d run from me again.
I couldn’t help but notice in the brief moments when I’d laid eyes on her, that she’d still been wearing my pearls; somewhere deep within her, she still belonged to me. It was the only thing that gave me the strength to turn from her. I wished I hadn’t.
While I didn’t know exactly what it was that had spooked her, it broke the last, lonely piece of me free of the control I normally held so dear. I could feel the last essences of myself spiral out of reach into the dark, warped zone I’d been living in since she’d discovered the lipstick on my neck. The lipstick smudge I still couldn’t figure out.
The last vestige of me disappeared and I felt the deep, dark past surge over me, taking me to a place I hadn’t visited in a long time. A horrible state of mind I’d hoped never to revisit, but the loss of the single thing that matter to me, broke me. My carefully constructed world of control collapsed under the strain of my splintered heart.
I was no longer the man I strove and struggled to be, but the broken, abused child I’d grown up as. My knees gave way as I collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. Feelings I’d banished surged forward to engulf me.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was driving at a high rate of speed. Swerving my car through the other meaningless beings going about their boring lives, I had only one place I needed to be. The only place that would help me find some peace of mind. I didn’t want to go there, but I couldn’t stop myself.
My mind screamed for me for me to turn around and chase Alix, but the meager pieces I could pull together knew I had nothing to offer her. She didn’t want the chaos that I was. She deserved a man who was better put together, one who could give himself freely. Someone I’d never be. My youth had been too horrible to leave me whole. I’d given her every part of me that I could, every part of me that deserved to be shared with the world, but it had gone horribly wrong somewhere.
I couldn’t think of the dominant I’d become to control the world. Couldn’t think of the multi-degreed professional. No, seeing the love of my life run from me like I was the scum of the earth made me feel like I was back to the child who deserved every punishment he received because he couldn’t do good enough.
Pulling into the parking lot of Scene, I shrugged out of my coat and removed my cufflinks before exiting my car. I wasn’t there to play Dom. I was there for something I hadn’t sought in years.
Punishment.
Alix’s rejection was a punishment in one form but I was looking for another type that I couldn’t get anywhere else.
When I walked in, I handed over my wallet and keys and requested a Dom. The woman behind the counter flushed, but nodded, handing me a pair of leather cuffs to put around my wrists to let everyone know that I was a submissive seeking a dominant.
Once I entered the playroom, it didn’t take long for me to start getting offers. Before I could accept any of them, though, I was interrupted by my friend, the owner of Scene, Gabe.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he barked at me, crossing his arms over his wide chest.
“I don’t know what you mean, sir.” I dropped to my knees and bowed my head.
His fingers slipped into my short hair, but somehow managed to grip it tightly enough to jerk my head back so I looked at him.
“You are a Dom, not a sub. What kind of game are you playing here?” Gabe growled fiercely at me, lowering his face toward mine.
“No, sir. I am here as a submissive looking for a dominant tonight,” I breathed, arching into the burn sparking in my scalp as he pulled harder. I didn’t expect him to remember my past, as I was hesitant to share it with anyone. However, I had told him years ago every detail of my past while he whipped me; even then he didn’t believe I had the capability to be a submissive, but I’d shown him I did that night.
“What the fuck, John? Snap out of this shit. You haven’t needed the whip in years, why now? Talk to me,” he pleaded, releasing my hair to rub both hands over his face.
“NO,” I yelled loudly, drawing the attention of those around me. “I don’t wish to speak of it. I need to forget, sir.”
Gabe let out a heavy sigh and nodded. He knew he wasn’t going to talk me out of it.
“I’ll let Munch know.” Gabe strode out of the room. Munch wasn’t the man’s real name, it was his Dom name. He was a sadist and he very much so enjoyed doling out as much pain as a submissive could take.
“Well, well. Look at the little bitch who needs a few licks of my whip.” I knew it was Munch from the previous encounters we’d had. “Get to my cross now, you worthless piece of shit.”
Finally I felt peace settle over my mind as I fully handed over my control to him. I didn’t have to think, I simply had to act, to do as instructed. Munch knew my submissive needed the humiliation to feel complete. I couldn’t completely submit until I was made to feel as low as possible.
Scrambling to my feet, I moved toward the cross until I felt a heavy boot kick out my knee, making me fall to all fours.
“Did I say you could walk? Do you think you are worthy of being at my height? No, you aren’t, you lazy son of a bitch.” Munch followed as I crawled to the stage that was specifically his.
I could feel eyes on me, people watching me. I closed my eyes, letting the shame sink in.
Once I reached the stage, I clambered onto it and waited to be told I could stand. Munch grabbed an ear and yanked me to my feet while a groan slipped from my lips.
“On the cross now, boy.” Munch released me and pain radiated through the side of my face from where he’d tugged. I positioned myself with arms and legs spread wide so he could shackle me to the heavy, wooden cross.
Stepping back, he held a knife in my face, dragging it along my cheek.
“Don’t move or I’ll be forced to show you how sharp this is.” He moved the knife to the collar of my shirt and made quick work of slicing through it, then each of my sleeves. It fell to the ground in a heap of scraps. Using the sharp point, he trailed it over my skin to randomly push it into me, but not enough to draw blood. “Think that since you are grown now you’re some bad shit, don’t you?”
“No, sir,” I murmured and gasped when he pushed harder against me.
“Worked out to get all this muscle. Did you think that would make you stronger than me?” Munch moved the knife to my neck.
“No, sir. Never, sir.” I shivered against the cold metal that could easily end my life at that moment.
“That’s right. You’ll always be my little bitch. I’ll always own you.” Munch knew my history, knew exactly the buttons to push that would drag my mind to the darkest of places. It was why I needed to be punished, to submit, to have my control taken away. There was only one way I knew how to handle extreme emotions, and that was to have them tamed for me by the slash of a whip and the fear of a knife.
Removing the knife from my neck, I felt the absence of his heat as he stepped away. A loud thud on the floor made my muscles tense. I knew what was coming and it was impossible to relax.