The Last Dance (9 page)

“Up, up, gee up,” he said, bringing his tiny fists down lightly on my stomach, making me laugh harder.

“I’m up,” I said, smiling at him as I put my hands on his hips to make sure he went nowhere.

Bryce leaned in with a smile and opened his mouth, a small amount of drool escaping him as he completely covered my chin in a wet kiss. I laughed with my whole heart and looked over to Rhys who was staring at us with a grin.

“Good morning,” I said to Rhys, who was leaning in to do a better job of kissing me than his son. I gave Rhys my lips as Bryce bounced up and down on my stomach, jolting me quickly out of my bliss. I felt a tug on my hair and opened my eyes to see the baby had grabbed handfuls of my hair and was pulling it so hard my eyes teared up. I cried out, a little stunned, and Rhys pulled back with an, “Oh shit,” and grabbed his son’s hands and unclamped my hair.

“I told you Godzilla,” he said carefully, giving my hair back to me.

“No big deal,” I said, grabbing Bryce’s hands, terrified he would do it again. That shit hurt. I sat up, grabbed the baby and walked him down the stairs.

“You hungry?” I murmured to the top of Bryce’s head as he jibber jabbered, waving to his father behind me.

“We ate. It’s almost noon … loser,” Rhys said behind me in jest.

“Well, I was exhausted. And I wonder why?”

“You will be tomorrow, too,” he promised as we hit the foot of the stairs.

I went to the kitchen, set my buddy down and grabbed some juice from the fridge. Bryce went straight to his toy box to destroy it.

I turned on Rhys as my eyes lingered on his son. “I think it’s time you tell me.” Rhys stiffened at my remark, but played clueless.

“About what?” he said, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pouring his own juice.

“Her, I want to know.”

He took a long drink and swallowed hard. “Nothing to tell. She isn’t worth talking about.”

“You promised,” I warned.

“Okay,” he said hesitantly. “She was dirty, conniving, and diabolical.”

“More,” I said, taking his glass from him so he couldn’t cover his mouth with it.

He smirked and stood at the counter, legs crossed as he eyed his son over my shoulder.

“Rhys,” I said, crossing my arms and jutting out my hip.

“The club was hers,” he said, his attention on me, studying my reaction. When I gave none, he continued. “She was a matchmaker and opened it for that purpose specifically.”

“She was like a madam of the lifestyle?” I asked, intrigued.

“Yes, but she did it for her own selfish reasons, too, evil bitch. Crap,” he said, lowering his voice so his son didn’t hear him curse. “That’s twice today.” He sighed. “I met her at The Barracks, that was the original place that we had to go to, and she was looking for new business. The Barracks was the place for most of the originals, and for a lot of years that was home to me as far as a meeting place for subs. When she opened The Rabbit Hole, a lot of the regulars from The Barracks flocked to it, but the reason I did was because of her. She intrigued me. She was very matter of fact, to the point. I knew she wanted me, but what I didn’t know was the price I would pay for my curiosity.”

“Okay,” I said, having a hard time keeping the jealous edge out of my voice.

“You’re jealous,” he said, picking up on it immediately with a smug grin.

“You’re stalling,” I said, annoyed he knew me so well.

“I had been doing the Dom/sub thing for some time when I met her. I was kind of growing numb to some of it. I was—”

“Bored,” I stated and he nodded.

“She was sick, and when I say sick, I mean she would make it her mission to ruin the lives of others. If she saw someone she wanted or someone else’s sub she had her eye on, she would go all out to make it happen.”

“Wait,” I said, my mind reeling, “are you telling me you were her sub?” My eyes widened and I felt a little bit of my excitement for Rhys stifle.

“Fuck no,” he said sternly, which tickled me and made me want to cross the distance between us.

I hopped on the counter facing him and started to pull my t-shirt down to cover my underwear.

“Don’t cover it up, he can’t see, but I want to,” he said heatedly.

“Um, no,” I said, pulling it down further as he rolled his eyes. “Okay, so she wasn’t the motherly type?”

“You’re skipping ahead, which is fine with me but—”

“No, no, finish. I’m sorry. Shutting up now,” I said, begging him to continue.

“She was versatile and I was pure Dom, so she insisted we work together to make the club better. We ended up tangled in a mess of our own shortly after the opening and kind of became exclusive.”

“So you fell in love?” I said, my eyes hitting his chest. I couldn’t look at him when he told me he loved someone else. It was immature on my part, but I couldn’t do it.

“No, I fell victim.” His voice was now low with a hard edge. “Remember the thousand ways I told you things could go wrong in this lifestyle? She made sure to cause nine hundred of them between us, between other couples at the club, before I finally broke free. She was so subtle about what she did and I have to admit, I let myself get sucked into it for a while. When I couldn’t handle her games anymore and I broke it off, she ended up pregnant and I had to—”

“What?” I said, praying he wouldn’t stop.

He hesitated before he looked straight at me. “She was extreme and I mean extreme. She liked to be flogged, and often. It’s not for everyone. She liked a lot of things that I had an issue with. She wanted to be bled, raped, tortured, beaten in different ways, and I didn’t have the stomach for it. When I wouldn’t do it, she would find someone who would. Basically, during the pregnancy, I found her in several situations that you would never want to see any woman in. When she was five months along, I found her gagged and beaten badly at the club. She was bleeding from every orifice of her body. The guy had pissed on her before he left. I wanted to finish the job he’d started and knew then I had to break free. That was the night I decided I wanted out of the club. I almost filed a suit against her and that’s when we struck a deal.”

“Which was?” I asked.

“I would have to take care of her until she delivered.”

“Take care of her?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“Violet, don’t make me go any further.”

“I won’t,” I said, convinced I couldn’t hear any more. “Sexually, you had to take care of her sexually. I get it. Why did you have the vasectomy?”

“She demanded I get one. I think she thought Bryce wouldn’t make it to term. She wanted me sterile for putting her through the task of carrying him. I don’t really know all her reasons, but they were always for control, the one thing she never really had over me until she got pregnant. I damn sure didn’t want the procedure. She had me at her complete mercy. I guess she assumed that after the baby was born we would continue our situation. I had to look out for my son. She didn’t care at all about his wellbeing. She moved in with me at my insistence, and I did whatever she wanted within reason to keep her sated enough to have him. When he was born, she didn’t look at him, not once. She had moved out a week before she delivered, after I told her she would never have me again. I had my son and I didn’t want a damn thing from her. He was healthy and I could finally breathe again. Her career was starting to take off and she had alienated most of the regulars at The Rabbit Hole, so she signed over the club to me as a kind of payoff. I didn’t want it at first but she insisted, saying I wasn’t going to get her for child support later, so we made another deal. She signed away her rights and I would take the club.”

“Jesus,” I said, looking over at Bryce who looked back at us as we stared at him.

“You would never suspect her to be this way in passing. The way people hide who they truly are sometimes is fascinating. She was beautiful, smart, articulate and deep down the most disgusting human I have ever known,” he said, gripping the counter top behind him. “When he was born, I ordered a paternity test just to confirm. I didn’t want to challenge her while she was pregnant and give her a good excuse to abort. I went through hell, but for good reason,” he said, looking over my shoulder at Bryce.

“Oh, he’s all you,” I said, waving at him as he banged on his Play-doh workshop with a plastic hammer.

Rhys grinned. “Don’t I know it.” I turned to him and watched him watch his son.

“Whatever you had to do, you did good, and here he is,” I said, beaming at Bryce as he banged away with his hammer.

It had been an amazing month filled with endless nights of laughter, sex, large amounts of quality time with Bryce, and we were just scratching the surface. We had started something real, something tangible, something meaningful. I was becoming more and more comfortable with our unusual new dynamic, and Rhys made sure to shake things up a bit in the bedroom. He had finally sold the club and tonight was going to be his last night as the owner. He had found buyers who intended on taking it over as the kink haven it was meant to be. The older, experienced couple who frequented the club couldn’t bear to lose one of the only available and safe places for those like me to explore their sexuality. I’d met them the day the sale closed and was thrilled about the fact that the curious, those who needed guidance and direction into the unknown, would find their refuge at The Rabbit Hole like I had.

I had come here for a sexual revolution and ended up with much, much more.

I had found refuge from my failed false start in the arms of a dominating and caring man. One I loved so feverishly, everyday thoughts of him were torturous. A man who had captured my heart, body, and mind, and I had no hope of fighting it. I didn’t want to. It seemed like neither of our thirsts for each other would ever be quenched. We spent our days fighting the world and our nights taking our stresses out on each other in the most amazing way.

I had just received notice that I would have to face my attacker in court the first week of the new year, and other than the stress of having to face the monster who had almost ended the life I had just really started to live it, I couldn’t be happier.

It was still light out when I entered the club to greet Tara. I knew that Rhys would be here for at least an hour or so before getting Bryce and bringing him to his family for the holiday, so I texted him to make sure he was here. This was our meeting place after all, it held a small amount of sentimental value, though our relationship had developed beyond just sex. I told him I would be busy with friends and family on Christmas Eve to throw him. My intentions were to make his last night as the club owner memorable.