Fuck! No!
He poured more brandy into his glass and cranked the music louder.
That night, he wasn't letting the demons in.
Chapter Three
I can't believe Roche was here last night. What's the chance of that after all these years? Clotille paced back and forth in the small room off her bedroom. She remembered she'd heard he'd left Lafayette right after he was released from prison. Someone had told her he'd joined up with a motorcycle gang, but she'd never expected to see him again. Being back in the same state as Roche made her feel better in a strange way. She'd missed him terribly over the years, and in her mind, she'd played the fantasy of running into him many times over years. It had finally come true, but it wasn't at all the way she'd imagined it.
Red stained her cheeks and her stomach clenched when she recalled the humiliation of the previous night. The minute she'd spotted Roche, she'd made a concerted effort to keep her face hidden as much as she could. She'd have died if he'd recognized her, knowing what she'd become. But he didn't seem to know her even though he'd watched her. She'd sensed it, and when he was whispering to the other biker, she'd stolen glances at him.
She rubbed her sore arms and wrists and tried to sit on the loveseat next to the window overlooking the garden. She gasped in pain and breathed heavily as she settled onto the cushion. Frederick went too far last night. Earlier that morning, after he had left to play golf, she'd run to the bathroom to look at her behind in the full-length mirror. Angry red stripes, welts, and the beginning of bruising on her ass showed off his handiwork. She knew he loved seeing how beautiful her butt looked, and sometimes he'd have her bend over on her knees for a long time as he sat on a chair, legs crossed, admiring it.
She sighed, happy that she had a slice of aloneness. The only room that she had any privacy in was the small room off the bedroom they shared; the rest of the house had cameras in every room and hallway. When she'd first come to Frederick's house, she'd insisted upon having one room that was all hers or all bets were off. He'd agreed and it had become her refuge. Clotille especially welcomed her cocoon after a very intense session, like the one she'd just endured.
Her thoughts drifted back to Roche. She still couldn't believe that he'd been less than ten feet away from her. A shiver shimmied up her spine. From what I could see, he's still handsome. He's built himself up, and he looks so damn good. When she'd first recognized him, her heart had skipped a beat and her insides clenched, but then she'd become consumed with him not recognizing her. It'd been his soot-black eyes that had given him away. They still flashed with fierceness and pride. They were the same ones that had once dragged her into their depths and made her fall in love with him. And she knew if she wasn't careful, his dark orbs would pull her back in again.
She glanced at the clock and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Frederick would be home soon and he'd expect her to be in her full submissive pose, waiting for him at the door. She couldn't slip up or he'd punish her, and she didn't think she could take another one of his whippings so soon. Absently, she rubbed her bruised wrists where he'd tied the rope too tightly. The longer she'd stayed with him, the less she wanted to be part of his lifestyle. For the first few years, she'd actually enjoyed the pain mixed with the pleasure, but in the past year, his obsession with her had increased as well as his punishments. Just the week before, she'd used her safe word when he used the crop on her aroused sex, but he hadn't stopped. He'd beaten her badly until she'd almost passed out from the pain. Later that night, he'd apologized to her and held her close, gently stroking her cheek. He'd told her that he was so consumed with passion for her he'd lost his head. He'd sworn it would never happen again-her safe word would be honored.
She'd forgiven him, but her trust in him had disappeared. Clotille no longer wanted the life he provided for her, and since she'd seen Roche, she wanted to break away from Frederick more than ever. But she knew she couldn't; she was obligated to him. Besides, he'd never let her go; she was too entrenched in his life, and his love and passion for her went far beyond the regular Dominant and submissive relationship they'd shared in the beginning. She shivered imagining what he'd do if she ever tried to leave him.
The loud buzz of her timer startled her. She looked at the clock again, panic weaving through her. I should've been in the shower twenty minutes ago! She leapt up and scurried to the bathroom. When she'd finished, she slapped on her makeup in the way Frederick liked, fastened her black collar, and rushed down the stairs. When she was home alone with Frederick, he forbade her to wear clothes, but if guests were over, she'd wear what he picked out for her. He loved tight, revealing clothes that made her blush when she wore them. The more men ogled her in the outfits, the prouder he was of her. It made her happy that he was pleased and proud of her. When he was disappointed, shame would spread through her, making her feel so sorry for displeasing him. After all, he did take care of her, and he'd helped her so much in her life.
Damn! He's going to be here in less than a minute. I can't let him see my face red from rushing. He'll know I was dawdling too much. Frederick was compulsively prompt and she knew if he told her he'd be home at five o'clock, he'd be home right at five-not a second before or after. She dropped to her knees on the marble floor and faced the front door. She sat upright on her heels and clasped her hands behind her back, her knees spread as wide apart as they would go. She'd stay in this position until he told her to move.
As the grandfather clock in the grand foyer struck five, she heard Frederick put the key in the lock and turn it. He walked in and his gaze locked with hers, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He's pleased with me. Her nerves relaxed a bit.
He bent down and patted her head. "I love seeing my sweet pet waiting for me at the door when I come home. Now go and get me my drink."
She jumped up and rushed to the bar. His chuckling told her he was enjoying the way her beaten ass jiggled as she ran. She made him a scotch and soda, then scurried to the family room where he sat on a chair, his leg crossed over his thigh. She handed him his drink and dropped to her knees next to his feet.
He smiled. "How was your day, pet?"
She smiled back but didn't answer. She'd learned early on that speaking without his permission resulted in being punished.
Frederick gently stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. "You have my permission to speak, pet."
"I had a nice day, Sir."
"Is there anything you want to talk to me about?"
Apprehension rose in her and the tension of the moment made her insides scream. Why is he asking me that? Did I do or say something that I wasn't supposed to? Did he find out I know Roche. Oh God, no. He couldn't have found that out.
She felt his hand pull her hair hard.
"Answer me."
"No, Sir. I don't have anything to talk to you about." She didn't dare breathe.
He ran his fingers through her hair. "You're such a good little pet."
She smiled demurely, her body relaxing. "Do you want me to fix your dinner, Sir?"
He shook his head. "Not yet. I want to look at you for a while." And so they stayed for a long time, his intense gaze taking in her naked body with an admiring look in his eyes. Then he reached out and his fingertips brushed across her soft skin, sending shivers up her spine. Her nipples hardened, and his mouth curled into a smile. "You like that, pet? You're so beautiful, and you're all mine. Your body is mine to do with as I please. And you like that, don't you?"
She nodded.
He pinched her nipples gently and she suppressed a moan. Frederick didn't like her making a lot of sounds when he played with her. Then he pulled and twisted her reddened buds until she squirmed. Yanking them harder, he dragged her closer to him and kissed her deeply. When she began to respond, he fell back in his chair. "You can make my dinner now."
"Thank you, Sir," she said before she stood and went to the kitchen.
As she grilled his steak, she looked out the window at the Rocky Mountains, noticing a tinge of gold beginning on some of the trees. The air had the feel of autumn to it, even though summer wouldn't officially be over for at least another month. She wondered what it would feel like to be on the back of Roche's motorcycle, her arms clutching his waist as they rode high up the mountain passes. I wonder what he's doing right now. Stop, Clotille! These kinds of thoughts will bring heartache, not only to you but to him and a lot of other people. You must forget you ever saw him. But how could she? He'd been her first love. We were so young. Where had all the time gone?