Fiend (12 page)

It was part of what I missed about the club. The ability to watch and be watched. Alix loved it almost as much as I did. By the time the couple exited the stage, she was wiggling on my lap, rubbing against my erection. Unluckily for her, I’d taken a few moments in the bathroom at work to jerk off just before I started getting ready to leave so I wasn’t so on edge when we played.

While my control was strong, I also knew my limitations, and Alix was good at pushing them when she let me completely dominate her.

Taking hold of the leash, I led her to the cross with her facing it.

“Hands up.” I restrained her wrists with the leather straps attached to the top before pushing her feet farther apart with my own. Her ankles were secured with the ones on the bottom, keeping her in a perfect X to torment. I stepped back and smiled while drinking her in. Perfection — well, almost. I only needed to bring some color to her pale skin and it really would be. I grabbed a flogger that was nearby for just such a use. It was thin-strapped and would sting more than the thicker ones.

We didn’t have a safeword. I didn’t work that way. No was no and would always be in my world.

I stepped close to her, feeling the heat of her penetrate my shirt. Normally I took it off, but the feel of her skin on mine was always distracting. I wanted nothing deterring my plans, even myself.

When I planted a soft kiss on her neck, she moaned and canted her head slightly to offer more skin to me. I rubbed my erection against her before moving back again. Softly, I trailed the end of the leather over her skin and smirked when she shivered, goosebumps popping out over every inch of her flesh.

After trailing the ends of the flogger over her a few times, I brought it down with a sharp flick of my wrist. Instantly a lovely blush bloomed over her back and she groaned. Spreading my feet, I picked up a comfortable eight pattern as I covered her upper back, arms and buttocks. Her cries of pain turned to moans of pleasure as she found subspace. I stopped when my shoulder started to ache. The flogger had turned her skin a bright red and would likely even leave a few bruises. The sight had my cock hard and pulsing against my zipper while leaving a damp spot where its eagerness seeped out.

I released the straps from her ankles first; she moved them unsteadily under her as I moved to undo the ones around her wrists. Once she was free, I scooped her into my arms. Her head rested against my chest right where I wanted it; I carried her back to my room and settled her on the bed. Removing my shirt, I climbed in next to her and gently caressed her back while rubbing on some ointment that would help reduce the soreness the next day.

Eventually, she came around and looked up to smile at me. I brushed stray hair off her face and kissed her lips softly.

“Welcome back, Precious.”

“Mmm, I love when you make me soar,” she murmured in a sleepy voice. It always took a while to fully come back to yourself so I kept touching her, easing her way.

“I love to make you fly, baby. Hell, I just love when you hand your control over to me. It’s absolutely the most exciting thing you could ever do to me.”

“Well, I don’t have to try to excite you in other ways then.” She smiled as she said it and I laughed softly at her.

“You excite me with everything you do, but that doesn’t mean you should stop trying to find something new you want to try out on me.” There was plenty we hadn’t done when it came to BDSM, but when it came to anything vanilla I was pretty sure we had that covered. I welcomed her presenting something she wanted to try, as she had yet to request something or say she specifically wanted a particular act. While I liked to be in control, I wanted her to know nothing was off-limits for me. I would do anything to keep her happy and in my arms.

Lost in my own thoughts, I was jolted when she yanked herself away from me. I looked at her, surprised and a bit shocked at the sudden move. She sat up in the bed and pulled the sheet over her body, which she had never done before in my presence.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking around the room to see what had caused the sudden change.

“You have lipstick on your neck.” Every muscle in her body grew taut as her eyes locked on my neck and her eyes turned ice cold.

“What?”

“Lipstick. On your neck. Who has been kissing your neck? I know it wasn’t me. I didn’t have lipstick on today and I haven’t kissed your neck. I didn’t notice it before when you picked me up so it must have been under your collar.” She moved off the bed, yanking the sheet with her as she moved away from me. Accusation was clear in her stance, but I was truly lost. I didn’t know how it got there and I didn’t think she’d take that for an excuse.

“I have no idea. Really. Baby, come back to bed so we can talk about this,” I pleaded, holding a hand out to her.

“No. I want to leave, right now.” She dropped the sheet and disappeared into the dressing room. By the time I’d pulled on my shirt and folded my jacket over my arm, she still hadn’t returned, so I knocked once on the door before pushing it open. The dressing room was empty. She’d left.

Growling in frustration, I ran down the hall to see her slip out the front door with her purse over her shoulder. I slammed the front door and the door-man glared at me, but I ignored him as I looked for where Alix had gone. Just as I spotted her, she vanished into the backseat of one of the cabs outside the club. I tried to get to the cab before it took off, but wasn’t fast enough.

She was gone.

Chapter 13

Alix

I was running. I knew it, but I couldn’t stop myself. There was no way I could face him as my mind whirled out of control. After such a deep experience, only to find another woman’s lipstick on his neck — my world shattered. There is only one way lipstick gets beneath the collar of a dress shirt. I couldn’t hear his excuses. I couldn’t let him make me believe again.

The last few months I’d put up with numerous other signs that other women would add up to something suspicious, but after his vehemence about not cheating the first time, I had let it all go, against my better judgement.

However, I couldn’t let go of the lipstick. I couldn’t. As soon as I got home, I locked the door and actually hid in my closet. I didn’t want to go near my bed, or couch, or anywhere else in the house John and I had been together. I needed to be alone.

All my life I’d been made to feel like I’d never be enough, but that had changed with John. I had this beautiful period of time where I felt like I could be what he needed, what he wanted — that I was enough. The world crumpled down around me with thoughts of all the times he’d come to me smelling of other women, the stories I heard from his ex, the way she so brazenly showed too much cleavage or thigh in the office. She touched him and he let her, even in front of me. He hadn’t been trying so hard to hide what was going on, but I’d been the naïve one that let him pull the cloth over my eyes in more ways than one.

I’d been so desperate to believe him that I didn’t trust myself and what I was seeing with my own eyes.

My strength and confidence, which had built over the time we’d been together, was leached away by the thoughts of deceit and lies. I hid in the closet trying to keep the outside world at bay for as long as I could, even long after my legs and butt begged me to move. My needy bladder was what finally broke me.

After relieving myself, I went about my house straightening things, trying to find some sense of normalcy where nothing else was okay. When I plugged my phone into the charger, I saw I had a slew of missed calls and texts. I didn’t bother checking them. They would be from John and I didn’t have the heart to face him.

In fact, I didn’t find the strength to face him for over two weeks. I called in sick, stating a family emergency, even though I had no family worth missing a single day of work for. Since I never took a vacation, I had more than enough paid time to use. The entire two weeks I stayed holed up in my apartment. I was barely eating, so I didn’t need to go to the store to get food.

At the end of two weeks, I felt no better than I had when I started the time away, so it was with a heavy heart that I started looking for new employment. I loved where I worked, but I refused to stay where I would be forced to see the man who’d broken my heart.

When I returned to work, I put on heavy makeup to help cover the bags under my eyes and the fact I’d lost some weight. The only person who noticed was Jennifer, and even though she peppered me with questions, I shrugged them off with single-word answers or ignored them altogether. Finally she got the hint that I didn’t want to talk and left me alone.

After having so much time off, I was booked solid, one appointment straight into another. The following week I’d be running to keep up with all the events that were booked, but it was good. The more work I had to do, the less time my brain could dedicate to rehashing the same thoughts that had been circling in my head.

I was broken.

My old, comforting habits came back. I found myself escaping more than four times a day to the bathroom while at work to masturbate. I couldn’t do it in my office as my appointments were too closely booked. There was no pleasure from it, but I found it helped bring a tiny bit of my old self back. Memories of doing the same thing for many years brought me comfort that I was still me. I was still okay in some small corner of my brain.

I didn’t think about John during those times; I knew he’d be mad at me if he knew, but I was mad at him so all it ended up doing was making me twist and pinch myself painfully, making it harder to get off on the next trip I made to the bathroom.

I made it over a week back at work before I spotted him. Since he’d tailored his hours to mine when we were together I knew when he’d be coming or going and made sure to be out of sight at those times.  I had appointments well into the night as I tried to play catch-up, and one night when I was cleaning up to leave, it was after ten when I looked up and spotted him.

He hadn’t seen me and I ducked behind my desk. As usual, he was dressed impeccably in a suit and an all-knowing smile that made every woman drool over him. Every woman but me. It tore my heart out to see he looked as good as he had the day I’d left.

Once I was sure he was gone, I collapsed into my chair and fought to hold back the tears that threatened for the first time in weeks. I hadn’t cried for him. I refused to. Too many times I had let tears fall for myself. Obviously even after months of my full dedication to him, I wasn’t enough, and that’s all I had to offer him. Tears would do nothing to change it.

Grabbing my purse, I locked my office and walked through the lobby. Jennifer waved me over.

“Alix, you need a night out. Let’s go get wasted and relax some. Come on, it’ll be a good time. You
need
a good time,” she pleaded with me. She’d been begging me to tell her what was going on. She’d deduced that whatever had been between John and I had ended, but hadn’t pushed for details. She really was becoming a friend and showing me she wanted to be there for me.

“I don’t know,” I sighed. I was exhausted, but I was constantly that way since I couldn’t sleep.

“It’ll help you feel human again, I promise. We’ll leave when you want to leave. Just get out of your house and office for a few hours.” She clasped her hands together and pushed out her bottom lip in a pout.

“Okay, as long as we leave when I say I want to leave.” I gave in as a loud, annoying burst of feminine laughter filled the lobby. The sound was familiar and made my blood freeze. Turning on my heel, I spotted Mariah. She was dazzling as usual. Her hair sparkled in the lights as she moved, her makeup looking spotless as her tight dress hugged every curve of her perfect body that was elongated by spiked heels. She held a phone to her ear as she moved through the open room.

“I can’t wait, sir. I’m on my way up to you. I don’t need dinner, I need you after the long day we had.” She paused as if listening to something on the other end of the line. “Absolutely, sir. I want to be so sore I can’t sit down tomorrow without remembering having you over me. It’ll keep my panties wet and praying you’ll ask me to come into your office for a session of our own.”

I closed my eyes as she moved far enough away I couldn’t hear her as she waited for the elevator.

“Yeah, I think I need a drink,” I told Jennifer, who gave me a sad smile as she collected her things.

We went to her house, where I refused to change into one of her ridiculous outfits. Instead, I shed my jacket, figuring the tank top I had on underneath would work fine. It was a bit see-through, but I wore a bra so there wasn’t much to show. After trading out my skirt for a pair of her jeans, I deemed myself ready. My hair was pulled up into a tight bun since I refused to wear it down. Anything that would normally please John, I did the opposite. I didn’t want to attract him; I didn’t even want to think about him.

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.