Fire After Dark (32 page)

‘Just one more night?’ he pleads.

I stare at him. I suppose it can’t do any harm. ‘One more. And that’s it.’

He grins. ‘Agreed.’

It’s lovely to see James again. I’ve missed him.

‘Puss, you’re back!’ he calls as I come into the gallery. ‘I’ve been so worried.’ He comes over and makes to hug me, but I pull away, wincing. ‘Ah.’ He looks knowing and a little sad. ‘Oh Beth, did he hurt you?’

I nod slowly. It’s a relief to confide in someone at last.

‘That bastard. Was it against your wishes?’

I nod again, feeling like a traitor to Dominic.

‘That’s forbidden,’ declares James, his expression serious, looking over the top of his spectacles in that way of his. ‘I’m sorry, Beth, I don’t care how much you feel for him – safe, sane and consensual, that’s the rule for BDSM. If he’s broken it, don’t go near him again, do you hear?’

Something in me deflates in despair at his words. But perhaps he’s right. I just wish it were easier to bear.

We spend a happy morning catching up, and laughing about Adam turning up and trying to wheedle his way back into my affections. I tell James I fully intend to chuck him out tomorrow, no matter what.

At lunchtime, I’m on the sushi run, so I head out to cross Regent Street to our favourite place to get some takeaways for us. As I leave the gallery, I pass an old church, tucked away from the world behind red brick walls and an iron gate, open so that passers-by can pop in for a look. To my astonishment, someone darts out of the small courtyard as I pass and grabs my arm.

I gasp and look up to find Dominic, gripping me hard, his eyes wild and looking unusually unkempt. ‘Dominic!’ My insides clench in excitement at seeing him again.

‘I’ve got to talk to you,’ he says urgently, and pulls me through the gate into the courtyard.

He’s going to apologise!
My heart leaps at the thought.
Maybe there’s hope . . .?

He’s staring at me almost angrily, his expression fevered, as he says, ‘Who is he, Beth?’

‘What?’

‘Don’t play the innocent – I’ve seen him! The man in your apartment! Who the hell is he?’

I reply without thinking. ‘It’s Adam.’

He draws in a sharp breath, give me an intense look that is almost despairing, then he lets go of my arm and strides out of the courtyard and away without looking back.

‘Shit!’ I curse as I hurry after him. He’s already disappeared down a side street. Why did I say that? Why didn’t I pretend he was my brother? Now he’s going to assume that I’m back with Adam. I curse again. I’ll have to call him later and explain.

Then again, why should I? He still hasn’t apologised for what he did to me. Maybe it will do him good to stew.

I still haven’t decided what to do when I return with our sushi.

I’ll think about it later.

Adam has managed, in the course of one day, to spread everything in his bag all over the flat, plus the detritus of whatever food he bought or made himself. I feel a surge of irritation to see how carelessly he’s treated the place, and at the same time feel relieved that I’m not facing a lifetime of clearing up after him.

‘How was your day?’ he asks solicitously as I arrive home. ‘I thought I might take you out for dinner tonight.’

‘That’s sweet of you, Adam, but why don’t we go out for a drink first and see how we go from there?’ I’ve already made up my mind to be completely frank tonight, tell him there’s no chance and explain that he has to go first thing in the morning. The pub seems like a good place to do it.

‘Okay, great. Let’s go.’

Out of the apartment building, we stroll together through the hot streets. The air is very close now and the sky is hazed over with white clouds for the first time in ages. I think I can feel a storm building, but it’s probably what we need after days of blue skies and heat.

‘You know what, Beth,’ Adam says conversationally as we walk along. I’m heading for the place Dominic took me that night. ‘You’re different, you know. You seem more . . . I don’t know . . . more grown up. More sophisticated. And sexier. Definitely sexier.’ He gives me a look that I think is supposed to be flirtatious, but it comes over as slightly leery.

‘Really?’ I’m interested, despite myself. I have wondered if my experiences in the last few weeks have changed me at all. It seems they have.

‘Yeah,’ he says graciously. ‘You’re really attractive.’

‘Thanks,’ I say with a laugh, then remember I’m going to be dumping a bucket of icy water on his hopes any minute now. ‘But, Adam, while that’s very nice it doesn’t mean that anything’s going to happen between us.’

We stop. He looks me straight in the eye. Then he smiles a little sadly. ‘It’s really over, isn’t it?’

I nod. ‘Yes. I don’t love you. It’s well and truly finished.’

‘Is there someone else?’ he asks.

I flush bright red and say nothing.

‘I thought so,’ he says with a sigh. ‘Oh well. It was worth a try. I’ve been an idiot, Beth, I know that. I didn’t know what I had until I wrecked it. He’s a lucky guy, that’s all I can say.’

I smile back at him, feeling a little choked. ‘Thanks for saying that, Adam. Really. You’ve put a lot of things to rest for me. We can still be friends.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he says heartily. ‘But something tells me we’re not going to see you back at home very much in the future. I could be wrong, of course, but it’s my gut instinct.’ He thinks for a moment, and says, ‘Shall we still have that drink? For old times’ sake?’

‘Yes. I’d like that.’

‘Good. And I’ll be on my way in the morning.’

We look at each other a little longer, acknowledging what we once meant to one another and the end of that time of our lives. Then we walk on, towards the pub.

When we get back much later, I unlock the flat to let us in. Adam, a bit drunk after four pints, is talking loudly and doesn’t notice the cream envelope waiting for me on the floor.

My heart skips as I see it and I scoop it up quickly. While Adam chatters on, I slip into the bedroom and open it with trembling hands. It reads:

To My Mistress,

Your slave humbly requests one night with you. Honour him with your presence tomorrow night in the boudoir. He will be waiting from 8p. m.

I clutch it to my chest.

Oh my God. My slave? What does he mean?

I’ll go. Of course I will. How could I not?

Chapter Nineteen

The next day I say goodbye to Adam, and watch as he heads off to the train station, back to the world I’ve left behind. Soon Celia will be home and what will I do then? Worry is beginning to niggle at me. I’ll have nowhere to live and, once James’s assistant gets out of hospital, no job either.

I’ll send Laura an email, I decide, and tell her that I’m interested in sharing a flat with her, and maybe James will find a way to keep me on as well at the gallery.

One thing is for certain. I can’t go back to my old life. Not now.

I spend the day in a heightened state of anticipation but I’m not sure how I feel about the forthcoming encounter. I keep it to myself, mulling over what it might mean, alternately excited and fearful. The physical pain on my back may have faded, and the weals are almost gone, but I’m still hurting very badly at the way things turned out. I tried my very best to be what Dominic needed and in the end, he took more than I could give. And the fact that there has been no apology from him wounds me most, much more than the flogging itself. I loved him and offered myself to him, and he has simply vanished out of my life as if he were never there.

I remember the wildness of his eyes when he asked me about Adam. He must think we’re back together. Well, he’ll find out soon enough when Adam is no longer visible in the flat.

I am also intrigued. My slave? Dominic doesn’t do submissive. I know he began that way, as Vanessa’s plaything as she learned her dominating skills, but he turned his back on that.

Something is going to happen. I just can’t be sure what it will be.

When I get home, I take a long bath, letting the hours slide by. I dress carefully, not in any costume this time, but in my black dress. I may not be wearing crotchless panties or harnesses today, but I make sure I am wearing my prettiest underwear.

Just in case.

Secretly, I hope that he is waiting to take me in his arms, kiss me and tell me that he made a terrible mistake, he is not a dominant at all, but just a normal hearts-and-flowers-and-fantastic-only-mildly-kinky-sex guy, and that he wants to be with me. That would sort out all our problems at once. But I have a feeling that’s unlikely.

It’s after 8. 30 as I make my way up to the boudoir. I know it’s childish to make him wait, but I can’t help relishing that I can get a little of my own back for the way he made me wait for him. When I knock on the door, my pulse is rattling away and my palms have dampened. A fluttering nervousness settles in the pit of my stomach. I long to see him, the old Dominic who once belonged to me, but I’m also afraid of what might happen in the boudoir. I promised to be a submissive when I was in there.

But I’m not wearing the collar,
I remind myself.

After a moment the door swings open into darkness. I peer in and then step forward. ‘Dominic?’

‘Beth.’ His voice is low and husky. ‘Come into the bedroom.’

A muffled light shows from within the room across the hall. I walk towards it. In the boudoir, the low bench has gone, though the white leather seat remains. There are two armchairs at the foot of the bed, angled to face one another. The bedroom lamps are on low. Dominic is sitting in one and he stands up as I come in, his head bowed as though he’s staring at the floor.

‘Thank you for coming,’ he says in sombre tones. ‘It’s more than I deserve.’

‘I want to hear what you’ve got to say,’ I reply, my voice sounding stronger than I feel. ‘I was wondering when, if ever, you were going to speak to me again.’

He raises his eyes, and they are so drenched in sorrow, I want to rush to him and hold him and tell him it’s going to be all right. But I manage to control myself. I’m desperate to hear whatever he’s going to tell me.

‘Come and sit down, Beth. I want to explain everything.’ He gestures to the chair next to his. When we are both sitting, he says, ‘I’ve been through a very bad time since I last saw you. What happened between us on Saturday – that dreadful thing – has caused me a great crisis. I had to leave for a couple of days and see someone to whom I could confess what I’d done and ask for advice.’

‘A therapist?’ I ask.

‘No, not really. A kind of mentor, I suppose. It’s someone who has occasionally guided me on this path, whose wisdom and experience I respect and admire. I won’t talk further of this person now, except to say that I was made to understand the gravity of what I did.’ His head bows sadly again, and he clasps his hands in his lap as if in supplication.

My heart goes out to him. He looks so beautiful in this half-light, silhouetted by the lamp behind him, and I long to touch him, to run my finger along his face and whisper that I forgive him.

But do I?

Not yet. There are some things I need to tell him before that can happen.

He looks up at me, his black eyes looking liquid coal in this light. ‘There are rules governing this kind of relationship, Beth, as you know. I was very arrogant. When we laid out our ground rules, I told you that I thought I would be able to read you and know when you reached your limit. I didn’t allow you to set your own limit, even though I knew you didn’t like the dungeon. I can see now I was determined to take you there, no matter what you felt. I . . .’ he pauses and grimaces ‘. . . I’ve been told that I have been acting out the loveless relationships of my past, where my subs have been in my life solely to give me sexual pleasure. But this – us – is something else entirely. I know that you gave yourself to me for love, not your own pleasure. It curdles me up to think how I took that precious thing and used it so selfishly.’

‘You weren’t completely selfish,’ I say gently. ‘Many – no, most – of the things you did to me, I loved. I had a wonderful time. You gave me such pleasure, of a kind I had no idea existed. But there was something very wrong.’

He nods. ‘I think I know what it is. But you go ahead. Tell me.’

I know what I’m going to say. I’ve been framing the thoughts in my head for days now. ‘When you became Dominic the master, you lost all trace of the other Dominic. You never kissed me – not with any feeling or tenderness - and you hardly touched me. I could bear that while we were acting out the scene, while I was your sub. But afterwards, when I felt so strange – when I felt so close to you but so vulnerable from all the things you’d done to me, especially when you beat me and hit me – that was when I needed you to love and nurture me. I needed your kiss and your arms around me, and your reassurance that I’d done the right thing.’ Tears spring to my eyes. ‘Most of all, I needed to know that I wasn’t really your worthless slave, but your precious girl.’

‘Don’t, Beth,’ he says. His voice is harsh, as though it’s painful to hear what I’ve got to say. ‘I’ve fucked up so badly and I know it was wrong. It’s hard for me to admit, because I’ve never lost control of a scene before, never. I thought I was too good at it for that, a practised master of my art.’ He laughs grimly. ‘It turns out not to be case. And I don’t know why it happened. All I can think is that I’m not used to being so emotionally involved with someone.’ He stands up, goes to the cabinet, opens the door and takes something out. He returns with it and places it on my knee. ‘That’s why I want you to use this.’

I stare down at it. It’s the cat o’ nine tails that he used on me in the dungeon and I feel sick as I look at it. ‘Dominic, no, I can’t . . .’

‘Please, Beth. I want you too. I can’t forgive myself until I’ve suffered a little of what you suffered.’ He is staring at me intensely, begging me to do this for him.