For His Pleasure: The Boxed Set, Books 1-6 (For His Pleasure, For His Taking, For His Keeping, For His Honor, For His Trust, For His Forever) (23 page)

“I didn’t ask for anything.”

He waved her excuse away like he’d swatted a fly. “I don’t even care about the money. But I gave you my trust, Nicole.”

She shook her head. “I can’t do this, Red. You can’t just come back into my life and dump everything on me.” She started to walk away from him.

For a moment he didn’t follow her, and then he came running and grabbed her arm, spinning her towards him. His face was closer to hers now, and she could read every conflicting emotion in his expression. “I’m sorry I lost it that night at my house,” he said.

“I wanted to tell you…” his voice faded.

“Why can’t you explain it?”

“Because, it’s too painful.”

“Can’t you at least try?” she said.

He laughed and put his hands on his hips, looked around at the people walking obliviously past them on the street. “Just another day in the city,” he laughed. “This city has seen it all.”

“Don’t avoid my question, Red.”

“I’m not.” He exhaled deeply. “It’s something that I try to pretend isn’t there.

Something that won’t ever go away, no matter how much I wish it would.”

“What won’t go away?”

“Who I am. My penchant for pushing people away who get to close to me.” He smiled bitterly. “I’m well aware of my tendencies, but that doesn’t make it easier.”

“You wanted to push me away that night,” she said.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“It started when you told me I was naughty.”

Red flinched slightly. “Yes. That’s probably true. Having you in my home was something that triggered something…something dark.”

“Why?”

He laughed. “I have a feeling you won’t stop asking ‘why’ until I tell you everything.” Red stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Let me take you out for a bite to eat.”

“I don’t know,” she said, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Let’s grab a beer then. It’s too difficult to talk like this.”

She’d never seen Red Jameson beg before, and it was unnerving. He was making himself vulnerable for her—she had an idea of how difficult that was for him.

Finally, she assented. “Sure, one beer.”

He grinned, almost looking like his old self. “How about that little pub on the corner?” he asked.

It was called The Cask ’n Flagon and Nicole had never been there before. Inside, it was dingy and mostly empty, which was strange for that time of night. But then they sat down at a booth and the server came to their table and Nicole instantly knew why nobody was there.

The server, a young woman with bad skin and a bad attitude, barely even looked at them. She slapped down two menus and walked off without even asking if they wanted a drink, or saying hello.

“Someone’s having a bad day,” Nicole murmured, as the server stalked off.

Red chuckled. “Aren’t we all?”

Nicole tapped her fingers on the tabletop nervously. Red seemed to relax in his chair, comfortable now that the two of them had some time to speak.

The moody waitress came back and took their order. A couple of beers and nothing else; she wasn’t impressed and left in a hurry.

“You said having me in the house triggered something,” Nicole reminded him.

The smile faded from his lips and his eyes grew cold. “Yes.”

“I don’t understand why.”

He shifted in his seat. She could tell he truly didn’t want to talk about it, the conversation was making him anxious—and nothing ever made Red anxious.

“It sounds silly,” he began, hesitant. “But when I was a kid—“

The waitress stomped back to their table and plopped down the two glasses of beer.

“Should I start a tab?”

Red checked with Nicole, which she’d never seen him do.

She shook her head. “Just these, I think.”

The waitress rolled her eyes. “That’ll be ten dollars and fifty cents.”

Red immediately paid with a twenty. “Keep the change.”

She didn’t even thank him, just took the bill and clomped off again.

“What happened when you were a kid?”

He held his beer and examined it, turning the glass this way and that, tilting it, finally he drank deeply, licked his lips. “My childhood wasn’t so easy,” he said, finally. “I don’t want to make it overly dramatic, though. Plenty have it worse.”

“Why was it hard?” She asked. She could see his body language changing drastically.

He was closing in on himself, shutting down. His eyes stared off into the distance—a thousand yard stare. His arms were crossed, he turned slightly away from her.

“My father and mother divorced when I was three and my younger brother was just under a year old. Dad moved about sixty miles away, and we saw him rarely. Weekends at first, then once a month, and soon it was less than once a year.”

She tried to picture Red as a child, needing the care and guidance of a parent.

Somehow she couldn’t imagine it, as though he’d always been a capable adult. “So you lived with your mother and brother?”

“Yes. And my mother was…” he paused and searched for adequate words. “She was very strange.”

“Strange,” Nicole repeated. Her stomach felt tense, her shoulders tightened with nervousness as he continued. She picked up her beer and drank a large gulp, feeling some awful revelation was coming her way.

“I didn’t know as a young boy what was wrong. Only when I got older, much older—I started to realize that she wasn’t normal. And when I finally moved out and went to college, really got out in the world, I began to see just how screwed up my childhood was.”

Nicole sipped her beer again. “Did she abuse you?” she asked suddenly.

He shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think of it in those terms.”

“She hit you…or…something else?”

“A lot of it was emotional. Most of it,” he said. “She got in moods. Sometimes good moods, but very often it was bad moods. And they could last weeks, even months.

When she was in one of her bad times, every day she would tell me that I was ungrateful, stupid, ugly, a monster who was ruining her life.”

Nicole put a hand over her mouth. “No, Red.”

He shrugged. “It was pretty bad. It would be horrible for months on end and then she’d sort of snap out of it. I would be relieved to have some peace for as long as the good times lasted, but I never knew what would set her off. One day, out of nowhere, it would happen. She’d get angry again, something would rub her the wrong way, and I was back to dealing with the insults and the yelling for weeks and months, until she cycled out of it.”

“What about your brother?” Nicole asked.

Red smiled sadly. “Jeb’s a nice guy. If you met him you’d think he’s a really upstanding guy, a family care practitioner, very smart and logical and polite. But he’s deeply broken, I’m afraid. Never married, barely ever even had a relationship. The one serious girlfriend he had when he was in his early twenties—my mother ordered him to break it off. Jeb said he was going to marry this girl, but eventually he caved to my mom’s demands. They’re very close, Jeb and mom.”

Nicole was watching him closely as he relayed this information. If you didn’t know him, you might think he was just talking about his family in a sort of casual way, like people do sometimes.

But it wasn’t the case.

Something in Red’s demeanor told her that he was deeply troubled by it all—and that telling her these things was incredibly difficult for him, yet he was doing it anyway.

Doing it for her.

She knew to tread carefully here. She was no therapist, but Nicole sensed that saying the wrong thing could send him spiraling into a dark place. “That night we were together in your home, did I remind you of her?”

“Of my mother?”

Nicole nodded mutely.

For a moment he just stared at her, as if in total shock. And then he burst into laughter. “No,” he said, still laughing. “No, you are very different. Thank god.”

One or two of the regulars at the bar had turned to see what all the commotion was.

They slowly turned back to the TV set and their conversations.

“Well, I don’t understand why you reacted that way to me,” Nicole told him.

He threw up his hands. “I’m trying to explain the best I can. I don’t totally understand it. If I did, I wouldn’t act that way.”

“But you think it’s because of your childhood?”

“My mother was unpredictable and cruel. But the worst part didn’t start until I got into my teen years. Puberty. It’s a tough time for any kid, but she made it into something hellish.” Red’s face grew dark and his expression contorted, as he seemed to fall into the memories of his past. “I remember one day, she found some old tissues in my waste basket in my room. You know, I’d started masturbating like any teenager. Looking at magazines, fantasizing about girls in my class. And my mom found those tissues one day and came into the kitchen where I was eating. She dumped the wastebasket on me from behind.”

“Oh my god,” Nicole uttered.

Red’s hands curled into fists. “She started telling me I was disgusting and perverted. She said I should be locked up for doing that in the apartment with her right in the next room.”

“That’s so wrong. So, so wrong. And humiliating.”

“You could say that. And it got worse when I finally started to date girls. I tried to hide it from her, but she had a nose for things like that. She’d sniff out when I was doing certain things. And sometimes, if she was in one of her moods, she’d follow me around the apartment, telling me all the perverted stuff I was doing to those ‘sluts,’ as she called them.”

“That’s sick.”

“Of course, I wasn’t actually doing the things she accused me of. I was kissing girls, holding hands, maybe a copping a feel here and there. But she put other ideas in my head,” he growled.

Nicole gulped, hardly able to keep the shock and horror from her face. She hadn’t expected this outpouring from him, hadn’t even imagined that he was hiding this kind of history beneath his polished, brash exterior. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “What your mother did to you was wrong.”

“Thanks for saying that,” he said in a clipped voice. Then he downed the rest of his beer. His eyes were watery, but he seemed calmer now, less of a live wire.

“Is that why you…do what you do? With women?”

He pushed the empty beer glass away from himself. “I’m sure it’s not a coincidence. But it is what it is. I stopped trying to fight my peculiar urges a long time ago.”

Nicole didn’t know what she thought or felt about Red’s confession. She was sympathetic to what he’d gone through, but part of her was also wondering what kind of husband Red could make, given his traumatic upbringing.

“I did live with a woman before, and it was pretty awful,” he said. “I was a cold, dismissive person to her. And I suppose you saw a glimpse of that when you came back with me to the house. I didn’t think I’d do that with you,” he said, shaking his head in confusion. “I thought things would be different.”

“Maybe I’m not who you need me to be,” Nicole said.

“No,” he said, leaning forward and reaching across the table to put his hand on hers.

“You’re exactly who I need you to be. I just didn’t have the courage to tell you what I’ve been living with. I’m ashamed of my needs—ashamed of the way I treat you. After we were together at my house that night, I became disgusted with myself. I sat in the study and all I heard was
her
voice, telling me how perverted and vile and sick I am.”

Nicole put both of her hands on his and massaged him comfortingly. He really was just a wounded boy at heart, and he was allowing her to see it. He was making himself completely vulnerable to her---she imagined it must be terrifying to someone who’d gone through that kind of betrayal from the most important woman in his life.

“You’re not sick or vile or perverted,” she said softly.

He looked up at her. “Tell me the truth. I disgust you.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I like what we do together, Red. I just want you to love me afterwards. And during, I want to know that you love me underneath it all.”

“Of course I love you, more than anything in this world,” he told her.

“How do I know that you won’t send me away again?” she asked.

“Never,” he said, turning his gaze fully to her and holding it. “I made the biggest mistake of my life when I treated you badly.”

“I don’t want you getting angry and smashing things, throwing things,” she said. “I can’t be around that. It makes me nervous.”

He agreed. “I won’t ever make you feel unsafe again.” Red started stroking her wrist softly and it felt so good, so incredible to feel his touch again after so long. “Give me another chance, Nicole, and I promise I won’t let you down.”

She looked at him and slowly smiled. “If I agree, will you let me drive your car?”

Red laughed. “If you give me another chance, I’ll let you run my company if you want.”

“Just the car,” Nicole said. “That would make me happy. That, and spending the night with you tonight.”

“I think we can arrange that,” he told her.

***

That night was magical. They went back to Red’s house in Connecticut, and he let her drive all the way home. The car handled like a dream, although she had to get used to the gas pedal being so responsive. A mere ounce of pressure from her foot and the car would jump forward. Red seemed to enjoy watching her struggle to control the beast, as he referred to it.

It made the drive fun and different. Red acted as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was joking with her and being relaxed and lighthearted.

When they got home, he carried her across the threshold of the entrance to the main hall, both of them giggling like school kids. And then it was straight up to the master bedroom, where she laid on the bed as he stared deeply into her eyes.

They looked at one another for a long time, smiling. “I could just look into your eyes all night,” he said, brushing her hair from her forehead. “I thought I’d lost you forever, but you’re here with me. It’s like a dream.”

“I’m so glad you came and found me tonight,” she said.

“I’ll always come for you,” he told her. “Always.”

“And don’t ever let me take another Yoga class,” she laughed.