He frowned. “I thought you were mad about her?”
“I am. I’d say I’d do anything for her, but what she wants… needs… I tried. I really did. I wanted to. You’re… fucking hell, I don’t even know how to ask this. Or what I’m asking.”
Marco sipped his coffee. “She into kink? Is that why you’re here? Because you assume that’s my thing?”
I stared at him at last. “I’ve heard things. You’ve referred to things.”
He smirked. “So what is it she wants, huh? Wants you to tie her up? Spank her? Make her crawl around, and eat out of dog dishes?”
“What the fuck!”
He shook his head, setting his coffee aside. “What people are into in the bedroom, Teller, is their business. And judging them makes you a prick.”
I tasted the coffee, and it was fucking perfect, as always. I took a few large gulps before I set it aside. I shifted forward on the seat, pushing the blanket away, because suddenly it was too warm. I was too warm.
“You ran out mid-fuck? Or just after?” Marco asked knowingly, and I frowned at him.
“What’s that got to do with anything? Why would you ask?” He was scarily accurate.
He pointed at my t-shirt. Yeah, it was inside out. And back to front.
“Fuck. Marco, I’m in so far over my head. Why can’t anything be easy or normal these days?”
He grinned, reaching for his coffee again, sipping it slowly.
“I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
“I shouldn’t be keeping you from sleeping.” I stared at the table, at the coffee that tasted so fucking good, but I suddenly couldn’t stomach. I finally blurted one word. One nonsensical, out of the blue, unexplained word. And it was everything. The problem. The solution. The thing that might break me.
“Pain.”
He tilted his head. “You’re in pain? Or she’s into it?”
I fixed him with a glare. “She… she needs it, Marco. It’s a physical need, for her. She’s got issues. Emotional stuff, and pain makes it go away. Quiets it. How do I give her what she needs? The thought of causing her pain makes me feel ill.”
He got up and left the room again. Great, now I’ve pissed him off too.
He reappeared, a bottle of Scotch in his hand. He topped up both of our coffees with it.
“Driving.” I protested.
“Like fuck. Drink it.”
I picked it up again, and took a tentative sip.
“How do I hurt her, when the last thing I want is to hurt her? I need help, Marco.”
He nodded. “Yeah, you need a lot of help. Thankfully, I can probably help you with this.”
I considered flipping him off, but I knew what his fists felt like when they hit my face, so I decided not to risk it.
“How? I mean, do you guys… uh…”
He shook his head. “That’s not what works for us. Spanking, punishments like using a belt, but nothing more extreme. Doesn’t mean I haven’t been with masochists before.”
I took a large gulp of the boozy coffee, and another.
“Is that what she is?”