The Dom of My Dreams: A BDSM Novel (41 page)

           
“All right,” he said, sighing.
 
“What do you wish to know?”

           
I scowled at him.
 
His cool arrogance and patronizing calmness infuriated me.
 
He and Jeremy were busted, so why was he acting as if he were humoring a hysterical child?
 
At least Jeremy had the grace to look embarrassed right before Seton pulled me out of the office and demanded that we speak in private.
 
But I wanted answers, so I’d just have to suck it up and put up with his crap in order to get it.

           
“Did you and Jeremy set this up?”

           
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
 
“Set what up?”

           
“This,” I shot out, indicating us.
 
“This…
thing
between us.
 
Did the two of you get together and decided to play mind games with an unsuspecting woman for kicks?
 
Is this something you guys do often?”

           
I realized I was speaking about Jeremy as if I hadn’t known him.
 
Maybe I never had.
 
I mean, I had no idea that he’d attended Cambridge University, and I didn’t know that his best friend was
the
David J. Seton.
 
He knew everything about me, yet he’d kept secrets from me.
 
I felt like a complete and utter fool.
 
That’s what happens when you trust people.

           
 
Seton sipped his wine and gazed at me with flat, unreadable eyes.
 
“You sound horribly paranoid, my dear,” he said, voice remote.
 
“This wasn’t some game Jeremy and I decided to play ‘for kicks,’ as you say.
 
We did it because we were worried about you.
 
At any rate, Jeremy was worried, and I agreed to help him.
 
Jeremy’s one of my best friends.
 
I’ve known him since before he came out of the closet.
 
He, Quinn and I were flatmates at university.
 
We all remained good friends long after Jeremy moved back to the states.”

           
My mind flashed back to the night at the fetish club in Albany.
 
One of Quinn Armitage’s dark and erotic paintings had two men holding hands.
 
Quinn had dedicated it to a friend, advising him to be himself.
 
I drank the rest of my wine, feeling dazed.

Seton got up and poured more wine.
 
I waited impatiently as he sat down and sipped on his wine as if he had all the time in the world.
 
I blew out a frustrated breath when he remained quiet for several more heartbeats, a half-smile teasing his lips.
  

“For the past three or so years,” he finally continued, “all Jeremy ever talked about was this attractive young colleague of his whom he thought was perfect for me.
 
He spoke an awful lot about you, darling—how beautiful you were, how lonely he thought you were, and how you only sought out men to avail yourself physically.
 
It was nonstop.
 
And so, I finally decided to humor the chap and agreed to meet you.
 
I hadn’t lived here long when I ran into you almost every morning at Starbucks.
 
At first, I didn’t know that the pretty little brunette at the coffee shop and Jeremy’s sad old bag friend were one and the same.
 
I made the fascinating discovery when I saw you at that Bookends staff meeting Alfred made in my honor.”

Sad old bag?
 
Was that what he thought of me?
 
He thought I was pathetic?
 
Tears suddenly pricked the back of my eyes.
 
I fought to keep them there.
 
I would not cry, not now.
 

“So the two of you…” I paused, swallowing back a lump that had formed in my throat.
 
I wanted to keep my voice as neutral and as controlled as humanly possible so that he wouldn’t notice that he’d hurt my feelings.
 
“So the two of you decided that the best way for us to meet was by approaching Bookends AtoZ with some cock and bull story about writing for us?”

“Yes,” he said.
 
“Except for the bit about the cock and bull story.
 
I
am
searching for a new publisher.”

“But you’ve never intended to sell your book to Bookends.”

“Not at first, but I’ve come to admire Bookends and its authors.
 
I do like Mr. Williams and the others.
 
The pub’s cozy environment appeals to me.
 
I might sign a deal with Bookends.
 
You never know.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, sighing wearily.
 
“But why go through all of that trouble?
 
Why not just set us up on a date, like normal people?”

The give-me-a-break look he gave me was almost insulting.
 
“Would you have agreed to go out on a blind date—or any sort of date at all, for that matter?”

He had a point.
 
I wouldn’t have agreed to go out on a blind date.
 
I hated dating, and I detested blind dates.
 
And men as long-term romantic prospects?
 
Pfftt.
 
I approached them like business colleagues, and arranged our trysts like—

“So the two of you came up with this whole ‘business arrangement’ thing?” I said, understanding dawning on me.
 
“Because you knew I would accept a formal sexual dalliance?”
  

“Exactly,” Seton confirmed, smiling.
 
“But we didn’t want to do it your way.
 
We didn’t want it to be just a casual fling.
 
We wanted it to be an actual business arrangement.
 
Jeremy and I wanted to show you just how cold and, to be frank, pathetic your little exploits were.”

Annoyance whirled within me.
 
Who did he and Jeremy think they were, judging me that way?
 
I shot Seton an incredulous look and said, “Pathetic?
 
Because I wanted sex without strings?
 
Men do it all the time.
 
How many wham-bam-thank-you-ma’ams have you had?
 
Why is it cold and pathetic when women do it?”

His smile faded.
 
“We’re not talking about women in general, Marjorie,” he said, voice a little clipped.
 
“We’re talking about you.
 
Double standards are not the issue here.
 
Jeremy thought you were unhappy.
 
He couldn’t care less about the men in your life, he only cared about you.
 
And that’s the reason why he intervened.
 
Sex without strings is fine so long as you’re not hurting anyone in the process, including yourself.”

“But I haven’t hurt anyone!”

He raised an eyebrow.
 
“You haven’t?”

I opened my mouth but closed it.
 
My eyes slipped down to my drink and I sighed.
 
I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t hurt any men, because I had, and the thought of it made me flinch.

Seton stared at me in silence for a few seconds, then said, “Let me ask you this, are you happy having a no-strings relationship with me?”

I toyed with my drink and said nothing.
 
No, I wasn’t happy, but not because of any feelings of loneliness I may be having, but because I wanted Seton to be with me and only me, just as I wanted to be with only him.
 

“Let me ask you something else,” he said sternly.
 
“Are you happy knowing that I’m sleeping with other women?”

My head shot up at that.
 
My heart beat wildly as I tried to maintain a semblance of composure.
 
He’d been with other women?
 
Was that a confirmation, or was he playing mind games again?
 
I stared at him, trying to get an answer from his eyes.
 
His eyes were intense but they said nothing.
 
My pulse raced all the more and tears stung the back of my eyes.
 
Heaving out a long, shuddering sigh, I uttered a barely audible, “No.”

A look of triumph passed over his face.
 
“And why is that?
 
As far as I know, you don’t care what your toy boys do in their spare time.
 
What’s different now?”

Nausea fluttered within me.
 
That was a question I wasn’t ready to answer, and I wouldn’t answer it, because in order to do so, I would have to tell Seton what I felt for him, and that I would not do.
 
Not now, not ever.
 

“So this was all a setup,” I said, changing the subject.
 
“Was that the reason why you ignored me and treated me coldly after our trysts?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, no doubt wondering why I’d averted his question, then said, “Yes.”

I took a deep breath, but it did little to ease the ache in my heart.
 
“So…you taught me a lesson by treating me—”

“The exact same way you treated all of your toy boys in the past.”
 
Amusement touched his lips.
 
“I believe you’ve caught on, Miss Fordham.
 
Congratulations.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to fight the ache that was lancing through my heart.
 
“And that’s also the reason why you don’t allow me to see you naked and why you’ve done all of those other hurtful things to me—like the mind games and stuff?”

“That’s right,” he answered.
 
“But there’s another reason why I’ve done that.”

I frowned.
 
“What’s the other reason?”

“You’ll have to figure that one out on your own.”

My shoulders slumped.
 
More secrets?
 
More guessing?
 
I didn’t think I could take much more of this.
 
Seton said nothing as I wrestled with my thoughts, simply holding me in his remote gaze while he sipped on his wine.

“I’m guessing that’s how you knew so much about me,” I went on, dazed.
  
“You knew my dress and shoe sizes, you knew that I had fantasized about domination and submission, knew about my exhibitionistic tendencies.
 
Jeremy told you everything.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Well, shit,” I huffed out.
 
“I’m never getting drunk with Jeremy again.”

“Jeremy is good at getting people to confess things while they’re drunk,” Seton said, his voice suddenly morose.
 
“You have to be careful around him.
 
He’s a sneaky bastard.”

Sneaky bastard indeed.
 
He tried to pull that shit on me during Samantha Minou’s party.
 
He wanted me to confess to him that I had feelings for Seton.
 
Thank goodness I wasn’t
that
drunk.
 

“What the two of you did was mean.
 
Mean and underhanded.”
 
I sighed deeply.
 
“I told Jeremy those things in confidence.
 
He had no right to use them against me.
 
No right at all.”

Silence fell.
 
I just sat there, staring at him, my heart heavy with pain and betrayal.
 
Deep down, I knew something like this would happen.
 
Jeremy was always on my case about needing someone special in my life, and he had often joked about arranging an “intervention” to help me with my “little problem.”
 
He had always thought I was lonely, that I’d treated men like disposable things because I was afraid of letting them get too close and see the real me.
 
I supposed he was right.
 
But he had no right to meddle into my life the way he had.
 
He and Seton played a rotten game on me, and I didn’t think that I’d be able to forgive them.