Beautiful.
For some ridiculous reason, she had the urge to cry. She dropped the cat to the floor and sank against the wall, sliding to a sit, exhaustion sapping her. She knew she should stay on her feet, stay in the position of power, but he couldn’t see behind him, so he’d never know. She pulled her knees to her chest, her body throbbing and aching with unmet need, but not for Hawk. She never slept with her clients. She didn’t even allow them to touch her. But seeing the intensity of another reach their sexual bliss often left her craving her own.
And tonight there was something even uglier pressing at her. Jealousy.
It wasn’t an emotion a domme should feel toward her sub. She was supposed to gain her satisfaction from his submission. And Hawk had submitted beautifully tonight. But as she watched Hawk lying there bound, breathing hard, and blissed out, she felt the ugly emotion creep up.
“Lady K?” he whispered after a few quiet minutes, snapping her from her souring state.
“Yes.” She pushed herself to her feet, turned down the music, and started unfastening the rest of his bindings. “You okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I was just wondering, how long before the marks go away?”
She frowned and ran a gentle hand along the angry red stripes on his back. “You know I wouldn’t leave you with anything long lasting, sweetheart. I’ll never betray the contract we set up at the beginning. Do you need me to stop leaving even temporary ones? There are other things I can do that won’t leave any evidence.”
“No, please don’t stop,” he said quickly. He turned his head to find her, his eyes still a little glazed and his hair flopping over his forehead. “I like seeing the marks. Sometimes . . . sometimes I jerk off again later after a session while I look at the markings in the mirror.” His face flushed at the admission. “But I’m . . . I’m going to see my girl tomorrow night.”
Kelsey sighed. “Sit up for me, Hawk.”
He followed her directions, and she handed him a towel to clean himself up and another to drape over himself.
Once he was covered and seemed to be coming back into his head, she asked, “Is this girl important to you?”
He kept his eyes down as he cleaned the evidence of what had just happened off his hand and thigh, shame obviously creeping in. Kelsey hated that, hated that he was still struggling so much with this part of himself, that the beast of guilt was such a relentless one. She wished she could just snap her fingers and take that hurt away from him. But she knew that road was going to be a long one for him.
“Yes, ma’am. I think I love her.”
She sat down on one of the chairs by the wall and braced her forearms on her fishnet-covered thighs. “Look, hon, I know you’re hoping I can beat this out of you, but that’s not how it works. You need to consider that these desires may not go away.”
His head dipped and his blond hair fell farther down his forehead, shielding his eyes.
“And I know there are people who manage to walk both sides of the line.” Like me. “But living a double life is not a fun option. Have you ever considered talking to your girlfriend about this? Feeling her out? You never know, she may be open to it.”
He snorted and shook his head. “Christina is majoring in elementary education and barely even curses. We didn’t sleep together until after we’d dated for six months. She’s sweet and innocent and . . . she’d be repulsed by me if she knew.”
“Maybe you’re not giving her enough credit,” Kelsey said gently.
He hauled himself to his feet and walked over to the hooks he’d hung his clothes on. He pulled on his boxers and jeans, then gingerly eased his Got Beer? T-shirt over his head, wincing when the material hit his back. “No disrespect, Lady K. But you don’t understand. You live in this world. I don’t. I won’t. I want a normal life with a normal girl.”
Kelsey tried to keep her expression placid, though the implication stung like little pieces of glass in her skin. I don’t want to be a freak like you. “I see.”
Hawk halted, his face falling, then he was crossing the room, getting to his knees at her feet. “I’m so sorry, Mistress. That . . . that didn’t come out right. I say stupid shit sometimes.” His expression turned earnest. “You know how thankful I am for what you do. I would never—”
“Shh,” she said, caressing his hair. He instinctively lowered his head and gave her invitation to stroke him. She knew Hawk hadn’t meant it to insult her. He was scared. And frankly, he was right. She didn’t have a normal life and never would. This week had been proof positive of that. She couldn’t even maintain an imaginary “normal” relationship without it getting fucked up. “It’s okay. And you’re right, I’m the last person who should be handing out relationship advice. I suck at them.”
Hawk lifted his head, his eyes a little wide. Probably because it was the first piece of personal information she’d ever shared with him—or any client for that matter. She was usually good at keeping the boundaries clear when not in a scene. “Is it because of this? What you do?”
She smiled. If only it were that simple. “No, hon. Not because of this.”
His lips parted as if he was going to ask more questions, but her look must’ve warned him off. He gave a little nod, bent all the way to the floor to kiss the top of her boot, then rose to his feet. “Thank you for tonight, Mistress.”
“My pleasure, Hawk.”
He gave her a shy smile, then before walking out the door he pulled something from his pocket and set it on the table by the door. Money.
A tip.
Even after all that happened this week, the simple gesture gutted her, cut right through her, letting everything spill out. She’d tried to have a real conversation with someone, and he’d paid her for it.