Dirty Bad Secrets (22 page)

“I feel like my fucking asshole is falling out.”

“Nice.”

“Well, I do,” he snarled. “I’m not a fucking archaeological dig, Faye, you could have gone fucking easy.”

“Sorry.” I did feel sorry, too. I’d gone all in, carried away, losing myself in the moment and his higher than expected limitations. “I’ll go.”

“Go where?”

“To my room,” I said. “I mean the other room.”

His eyes were angry again, dark. “Is that what you want?”

I shrugged. “Probably for the best.”

“True to form, at least. Bailing when things get a bit awkward. Feeling the pressure now? All getting a bit tough for you?”

“No. I just thought…”

“Thought what? Thought that because you went hell for leather on my ass I’d want you out? It doesn’t work like that, Faye,
I’m
not that fucking fickle.” He pulled the covers in some kind of order. “Get in. You’re fucking staying.”

I didn’t argue, squirming as his slippery cock pressed itself against my sore ass. He was still pulsing, still winding down. “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate the effort.”

“Shut up, let’s go to sleep.” He got the light, and plunged us into darkness, and even though he was angry his arms still snaked around my waist and pulled me tight. It felt nice.

I calmed as he calmed, our breathing slowing as sleep reached out, and it was there, in his arms in the darkness that I knew it was make or break for us, all or nothing.

“Let me take you,” I whispered. “Properly, bound and bruised and open wide for that strap-on. You have no idea how much I want that, how much it would mean to have the mighty Andy Morgan at my mercy. Even if it was just the once.”

I felt him squirm. “Even if I
could
give you that, even if I could bring myself to push it that hard, why would I want to? How do I know you’re not just going to fuck off again when something else takes your fancy? You’re too flighty, Faye, you don’t know how to commit to anything, not enough to make it worthwhile.”

“You’re wrong,” I said, and I squeezed his arms tighter around me, tight enough to feel all the way through me. “If you give yourself to me I’ll give myself to you. All in, for keeps. I mean it.”

“You’ll let it all go? Italy? Vincent? This crazy desire for hedonistic gratuitous fucking? Don’t think I don’t know, Faye, I know how much you like variety. I don’t want to glance over my shoulder one day and find you fucking half the fucking club behind my back.”

“All in,” I repeated. “Nobody else. Except maybe Topaz.” I felt him flinch and fought the urge to giggle.

“We need rules, Faye, this can’t be a fucking free-for-all, not while we’ve got a business to run. You’re reckless and irresponsible and you’ll waltz us into a whole fucking world of trouble, if you’re not careful. Can you even begin to imagine that little spectacle with Topaz recounted in an industrial tribunal?”

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see them. “She wouldn’t, that’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Ok, so we’ll have rules. Topaz is a grey area, we can work that out.”

“We’ll think on it.” He yawned, and I was losing him. “
I
need to think on it.”

“Sure.” I squeezed his hand. “Just let me know when you know what you want.”

“There is one condition,” he said, and my heart stuttered. “Non-negotiable, if any of this is going to continue.”

“What is it?” I was nervous, so stupidly nervous.

“That I get to fuck Topaz’s ass before you do.”

***

Andy

I untangled myself from Faye slowly. She murmured in her sleep but didn’t wake, and I took a moment to watch her there, in my bed, her hair a tangled mess on the pillow, her pretty nipples poking out above the covers. She was beautiful. A beautiful, filthy, intoxicating siren of the deep. I grabbed my squash gear from the wardrobe, being careful not to bang the door. She didn’t hear me, didn’t even stir.

James was already waiting at the court. He was doing his warm up, his ripped hulk of a body raring to go. It always made me smile to see the man here, so at odds with the crazy fucking dominant performing in the mask every weekend. Fuck, how they loved him, the infamous Masque. I owed him some for the free entertainment, pulling the punters through the door for just a glimpse of him at play.

I dropped my bag on the bench and joined him in some stretches. The place was quiet, relatively, just a couple of guys smashing it out in a court a couple down from ours.

“I hope you’re ready to get your arse kicked today.” I smiled. “Last week I played like a pussy, this week you won’t be so lucky.”

“Last week you played like a man who’d had his backside tanned,” he smirked. “Don’t think for a second I don’t know what kind of limp that was.”

“You’re delusional,” I said.

“Sure I am.” His smile was broad and genuine. I liked James, he was my kind of guy. “Just keep running that mouth of yours, Morgan, and we’ll see who gets the ass-kicking.”

“It’s my win,” I said. “Suck it up, Jimmy boy, victory is mine. I can feel it.” And I did feel it until I reached for the racket and clamped my fist around it. Fuck, my fucking knuckles, they hurt like a bastard.

James raised an eyebrow. “Another sex-related injury?”

“Hardly,” I scoffed. “My fist had an unfortunate collision with someone who deserved it.”

“I hope they came off worse.”

“So do I.” I whizzed the racket through the air to practice and my grip held up. “Hardly a scratch.”

“Let’s see, then,” he smirked, and we were off.

James is a fucking good squash player. He’s nimble for his build and he’s strong, like a fucking ox. His reflexes are like a cat’s, but I’m slightly quicker on my feet than he is. I used it to my advantage, tearing about the court like a man possessed as we battled it out for a win. A couple of points in and we stopped to catch our breath. I took a swig of water and checked my phone. Nothing from Faye, but I wasn’t expecting anything. She’d never been great with mornings.

“Big night, then, next weekend?”

I nodded. “Birthday bash. Faye’s bag, fuck knows what kind of crazy shit she’ll come up with.”

“Didn’t you see the email?”

“Email? No, I didn’t. She’s not exactly desperate to keep me in the loop,” I said. “We have some power issues we’re still hammering out.”

“Hammering out quite literally, I imagine.”

I flashed him a look, not quite a smile, but enough to give him the picture. “Faye Devere is a monster to handle when she digs her petulant little heels in. No fucking sense, no fucking reason.”

He smiled broadly. “Faye Devere is quite something.” I served, hard enough that he had to spring to the back of the court. “She’s spirited,” he added. “Original and playful. Quite infectious. I had a lot of fun with Faye Devere once upon a time.”

“I remember,” I said, channelling the jealousy into my game. It worked. A couple of points smashed home in my favour.

“So, what’s the landscape? Are you two a thing now?”

I was surprised at the question. James isn’t usually one for talking, and neither am I. I shrugged. “We’re hammering that out, too.”

“Nice. I’m sure you’ll be great together.”

I laughed, spinning my racket in my hand to loosen up my knuckles. “You don’t have to be polite.”

“I’m not being polite,” he said. “There always seemed to be something there, from an outside observer’s perspective. I think you’re both game enough to keep each other on your toes. That’s half the battle as far as I see it.”

“She’s keeping me on my toes, James, she’d have me twirling like a fucking ballet dancer if she could get away with it.”

He cocked his head. “And she can’t?”

I bounced the my racket against my knee, game forgotten, and James responded, backing up to the side of the court and folding his muscled arms across his chest.

To talk or not to talk. Fuck it, why the fuck not.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he said. “Fire away.”

“Picture this. You wake up after your honeymoon, some day in the future, and your lovely Cat suddenly announces she wants a switch relationship. She wants you on your knees and begging for it, ready to bare your fucking asshole and take a decent pounding with a strap-on. What would you say?”

He laughed. “That’s quite specific.”

“Faye is quite a specific woman, James, she wants what she wants and she wants it now. Like I said, she’s a fucking monster.”

“And that’s what she wants?”

“That’s exactly what the dirty little cow wants.”

“What do
you
want?”

I propped myself against the opposite wall, and there was silence as I weighed it up, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. “I
should
want an easy life, to get on with running Explicit in a sensible manner, whether that’s together or not. I
should
just tell the snotty little mare that I’m not pissing submissive, and she can take it or leave it. I
should
want to tell her to get fucking lost after she bailed without so much as an explanation three years ago.”

He smiled. “And what do you actually want?”

“Fuck knows.” It was a lie, I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted
her
. Every annoying, infuriating, zany, weird, childish fucking bit of her.

James must have sensed my difficulty in sharing. He discarded the squash ball, bouncing it around all three sides of the court, then crossed his legs, relaxing into his pose. “I can’t imagine for a second that Cat would ask me to switch. She simply isn’t that type of woman.”

“Quite.”

“But if she did, I would have to consider it carefully.”

I met his eyes. “You’d consider it?”

“I would definitely consider it. I love Cat. If she felt the need enough to switch that she asked the question, I’d be a fool not to consider it seriously. I’d want to consider it.”

His honesty surprised me. “But you’re no submissive, James, no more than I am. How would that work?”

“That’s what I’d need to consider,” he said. “Whether I could offer her that, genuinely. After all, if it’s not genuine, if it’s not authentic, there would be no point. She’d be better off finding someone else to fulfil that part of her, if it were that important, and I wouldn’t resent her that.”

“Don’t you think you’d just keep your mouth shut and take one up the ass for the team, to keep her quiet?”

He grinned. “No. Unfortunately, I don’t think that. You’ve been around, Andy, you know what it’s like to take on a scene with a submissive who isn’t really feeling it. We’ve all been there. The woman who
thinks
it’s what she wants, who’s playacting to be cool, who’s so full of bravado that she doesn’t let you anywhere near the part of her that really matters, the
inside
. That’s not what we want when we’re on top, we want the real deal. We want a sub who’s all in.” He paused, and I let him find his words. “If Cat asked me to switch and take a turn as her submissive, I’d want to apply myself fully to it, or not at all. I think it would do more harm than good to just go through the motions. She’d know I wasn’t feeling it, she’d know I was there in body but not in spirit, and that would only cause her frustration. I demand a lot from her as my submissive. I demand that she’s honest, and willing, and devoted, and that she applies herself wholeheartedly to the dynamic of our situation. Why should she expect any less from me if the roles were reversed?”

He had a point. “I don’t know if I can do it, James. I’m talking for real here. I don’t know if I can genuinely submit. I don’t even know how I’d know.” I sighed. “It’s not the pain, that doesn’t worry me, it’s… I don’t know…”

“I get it,” he said, and I’m sure he did. “You have to work out whether you can give yourself to her, whether you can look into her eyes like she’s everything, whether you can
believe
she’s everything, whether you can kneel before her and see her for the goddess she is, whether you can feel that genuine humility, that genuine desire to serve her without holding back.”

I sighed. “It’s a pain in the fucking arse.”

“Literally, if she gets her way,” he smiled. “Look, Andy, Faye is a beautiful, exotic, vivacious woman. If you want her enough to actually consider putting yourself on the line for her, then I’m confident you’ll find what you need when the time comes.”

“I’m not sure I could serve
anyone
without holding back, even a woman like Faye.
Especially
a woman like Faye, she irritates the living fucking shit out of me.”

“Think about it,” he said. “Make the right call. For both of you.”

No fucking pressure.

I checked my watch and he checked his, and we both drew the same conclusion.

“Same time next week,” he said.

“Indeed.” I shook his hand. “Thanks, James, I really appreciate the insight.”

His handshake was solid, like him. “Any time, my friend.”

I gathered my bag, and checked my phone again. Still no messages, Faye still asleep in bed, no doubt. I waved James off with a smile. “I’ll see you on Saturday, for cake and party games.”

“Maybe,” he smirked. “I’ll be a lot harder to spot in a whole roomful of masks. I might feel emasculated, insignificant.”

“Yeah fucking right,” I laughed, then thought it through. “Why the masks?”

“It’s the theme,” he shrugged. “At least that’s what I fathomed from the email. Truth or Dare, Venetian style.”

“Venetian style?!” My blood ran fucking cold and James stopped in his tracks.

“Is there a problem?”

I forced down the surprise, pasted on a smile. “No, no. I’m sure Faye just forgot to mention it.”

“I guess she did.” His eyes were filled with questions but he didn’t pry. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

***

“Venetian night? What the fuck are you doing organising a Venetian night? Like there’s anything about that fucking place you’d want to remember.”

Faye was stirring her cereals aimlessly, groggy and lethargic. “Jesus, Andy, it’s too early for this.”

“It’s never too fucking early for a conversation like this, Faye.”

She groaned. “It wasn’t even my idea, ok? My idea was truth or dare night, it was the others that came up with the masks, Raven and Cara and Topaz, even Demelza got in on the act. They were being sweet, it’s a celebration of me being back home, so I don’t feel sad about Italy.”

“And you didn’t think to tell them this may be entirely inappropriate?”

“Would
you
have, if it were
you
in my position?” Her eyes were hard. “It shouldn’t be a big deal, I should be fine. I’m a big girl, Andy, I can take a few masks and feathers without hyperventilating.”

“Don’t brush this off as nothing, Faye. It’s not nothing. I read those fucking books, I know what kind of shit went down out there.”

“And I told
you
I didn’t mind it in the main. I’m not scarred, I’m not some little broken puppet that needs wrapping up in cotton wool. I’m fine.” She dumped her dish in the sink, cereals half untouched. “You need to stop harping on about those books, Andy, it’s driving me mad. I don’t need reminding that you know my seedy life story every five bastard seconds.”

“Me and the rest of the fucking planet. Sorry for fucking caring.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“That’s how it sounded.”

She rubbed her temples, then wrapped herself tighter in my dressing gown. She’d taken a liking to it, and I’d taken a liking to her liking it, not that I’d ever fucking admit it. “Can we start the day over, please? I hate arguing with you before my brain has even booted up properly, it puts me in a bad mood all day.”

“This isn’t an argument.”

“Then sniping, knocking heads, whatever you want to call it. Can we put it to bed, please?” She put her hand on her hip, and gave me nothing short of a pout. “Please, Andy. Please don’t be a dick this morning, I haven’t had nearly enough coffee to cope with you.”

“So melodramatic,” I said, and flicked the kettle on. “Fine. We’ll start over, see if we can get through the morning without taking each other’s heads off for once, shall we?”

“Suits me,” she sighed, and there was a sparkle in her eyes.

I pointed to the corridor. “In that case, you’d better get your peachy little backside in that shower, or we’re going to be fucking late.”