The slave studied his hands.
“Twenty-five with a cane for not answering immediately. I asked you a question. Answer it now, or you’ll get fifty.”
“She was very upset.”
He laughed. “Duh. I figured that much. Who did I save you from out there? What was his name, Bob?”
“I don’t know. He was the man we saw with her at the club.”
“Ah. Maybe the information I received at the club was wrong and she has a boyfriend after all.”
Dammit. That would put a kink in his plans.
“I don’t think so, Master. I get the impression they haven’t been seeing each other long.”
A little relief and hope crept in. “Good. Now tell me what happened.”
As slave related how she’d reacted, Landry nodded, trying not to speak or comment during the story. His heart broke for the woman, for the pain she’d gone through at his expense.
He never wanted to hurt someone. Well, not like that, at least. He was a sadist, not an asshole.
Slave gave him as verbatim a recollection as he could. Landry contemplated what she’d said.
“You took her Master from her. That’s an interesting comment for her to make, considering what she did to you and how she formally withdrew her submission.”
Slave shrugged.
“Do you think she still loves you?”
Slave looked out his window. “I doubt it,” he softly replied. “Not as badly as I hurt her. I think what she said was probably more out of pain, over what she went through then, not what she really feels now.”
Landry wasn’t sure he agreed with that assessment, but he let it go. He didn’t know the woman beyond what slave told him and his own brief interactions with her.
But he intended to get closer to her.
Much closer.
Back at their room, he made slave strip and bend over the end of the bed. He delivered twenty-five vicious strikes with a rattan cane, not breaking the flesh but immediately raising welts on his skin, crossing the existing bruises from their previous nights at the clubs.
Slave took his punishment without complaint.
After their pizza arrived, he allowed slave to sit, naked, at the small table to eat before ordering him back to the floor again where he could work on his laptop. Then he settled on the bed, still dressed, to watch TV.
Occasionally glancing at his phone, Landry wondered if she’d call. He didn’t miss that she snatched the card with the hotel room info on it from him and pocketed it before Bob could take it.
He also hadn’t missed the brief longing that crossed her expression before slave got in the car at her house.
He suspected a little tiny piece of her didn’t want to see him go.
Landry glanced at his phone when it buzzed on the table between the beds around a quarter after eleven. Pleasantly surprised, a smile creased his face as he read the caller ID. Honestly? He’d almost given up on hearing from her that night. He answered. “Hello.”
He listened for a moment and then said, “Not at all, I was still awake. I’ll be right there.” He hung up and stood. Slave remained kneeling on the floor. “You’d better be right there when I get back.
Do not move. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Could be a few minutes, could be a few hours. Could be all fucking night.”
He slipped on his shoes, grabbed his room key, patted his pocket to make sure he had the ring, and walked outside. In the dark he quickly scanned the parking lot and saw her parked next to his rental. She drove a brand new Lexus SUV.
The passenger window slid down. “Get in.”
He reached for the door handle. “I’m glad to see you. I’ll admit this is rather unexpected.”
She drove without speaking to a nearby park overlooking Sarasota Bay. He waited her out as she stared at the water.
“What the fuck is your game, Landry?” she finally asked.
“No game, I assure you.” He didn’t miss the fact that she used his first name.
“Why not leave everything to Cris? He’s your…partner, right?”
“Because he has lost the right to own anything after this. Before I found out about his transgression, yes, I considered him more than just my slave. He was my partner in every way. My lover. My love.” He took a deep breath. Why hold on to his pride when he had nothing left to lose? “I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me shit.”
“You’re wrong. No, it’s not technically my fault what happened, but I still feel responsible. For example, take your boy today. If he got into a fight at a club—”
“He’s not my boy.”
Landry successfully suppressed his smile. “Oh. I’m sorry, I thought from what I saw—”
“He’s a client. And…a friend.”
“Boyfriend?”
“That is none of your fucking business.”
“I’m asking you to marry me, therefore yes, it is my business.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No,” he said, settling back in the seat. “I’m tired. Honestly? I don’t know if I’m going to get through this or not. They say I probably will, but there are no guarantees. I need this cleared off my plate one way or another as soon as possible.”
“Doesn’t Cris love you? Why not forgive him and move on? He didn’t hurt you.”
Landry dropped his voice. “He told me about your step-father.”
He watched her hands clench into fists. Her voice trembled. “That’s still not your fault.”
“I love him. Yes, I’m upset with him for how he treated you, and yes, I feel guilty, right or wrong. I’m human. There’s another issue, however.” He looked at her. “He still loves you. I’m not a moron. I know he loves me, but he’s still in love with you and always has been. He didn’t leave you because he didn’t love you enough or because he loved me more. He honestly thought I would die. So did I, for a while. He knew you had people who loved you and would help you. I didn’t have anyone. I was completely alone and had alienated almost everyone who gave a damn about me. He made a decision for both of us without asking what we wanted.”
“Why do you feel you have to marry me?”
“Well, I own slave. He’d become community property,” he joked. “Seriously, I wanted to move here anyway. Ironically, Tampa has one of the best cancer centers in the country and it’s not a bad drive from Sarasota. I’d already been looking at relocating to this area because it’s cheaper to live out here and I’m sick of California. Most of my clients are on the east coast, not out on the west coast.
Unfortunately, Florida has a few laws that can make life complicated for same-sex couples.”
She turned to look at him but didn’t speak.
“If you’re my wife, you can make medical decisions for me, automatically step in and take over if the worst happens, without all the horrific red tape slave would have to go through. Not to mention it will further humiliate slave, for me to be married to the woman he loves.”
“Why can’t you say his name?”
“Because I’m still too angry.” He stared at the water again, but his voice gentled. “You can make sure he gets into the hospital to see me, to be with me. To be honest, I don’t want him going through this alone a second time, if you can bring yourself to help him.”
“Who says I want to be anywhere around the son of a bitch?”
He took a gamble. “Because you still love him as much as he loves you. Somewhere, deep inside you, part of you wants him back.”
“I don’t want another Master. Especially him.”
“I didn’t say a Master.” He also noticed she didn’t deny his statement about her loving him.
She went quiet for several minutes. He waited her out. “What do you expect of me?” she softly asked.