He waited until they reached U.S. 41 and headed south before he pulled out his phone and dialed. “Good. I was just checking. Eat between six and seven.” He hung up and dropped the phone into the center console before looking at her. “He despises mindfucks almost as much as he hates humiliation.” An evil grin curled his lips. “That’s why they’re so damn fun.”
“How often will you call tonight?”
“Every so often.”
“Did you tell him where you’re going?”
“Nope. None of his business.” He caught her hand and laced his fingers through hers. When he gently squeezed, her heart raced. “If I want to spend the night with my fiancée, I will.”
She offered to cook him dinner. “If you’re going to live with me you might want to sample the wares first.”
He laughed as he pulled into her driveway. “I could take that more than one way.”
Her pulsed throbbed a counterpoint to her clit. “Maybe I meant it more than one way.”
He leaned in and stroked her cheek. “How about we spend the night getting to know each other with our clothes on? So when we do have our wild night, we can both be more relaxed about it.”
“Why wouldn’t you be relaxed?”
He shrugged. “Lot of pressure. I want you to enjoy yourself.”
She felt a stab of conscience. “If you don’t want to do that, we don’t have to. I know I said it was a condition, but I don’t want to force you.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t. You don’t get to back out on me like that,” he teased. He leaned in and kissed her. Sensual and tender, his lips and tongue gently exploring hers, not trying to take over or maul her. “I don’t know about you, but even if it wasn’t for the cuckolding and humiliation aspects, I’d still be looking forward to it.”
“Really?”
“I’m gay, not dead. I got over the ‘girls have cooties’ stage of my life before I hit puberty.
You’re beautiful. It’s a great bonus that you’ll be my wife.”
“Let’s see if you still feel that way after I cook you dinner.”
He offered to help with preparations. She started him making them a salad. Being with him felt different than it felt with Bob. Before they sat down to eat, she pegged it.
It felt a lot like it had with Cris. Landry was very similar, including his physical mannerisms.
They moved around in the kitchen together, weaving between the cabinets without bumping into each other, as if already synchronized.
In a way that terrified her. How easy it could be to live with him. To lose her heart to him. “Did you say you were Cris’ first serious relationship?”
He leaned back against the counter. “How much are you comfortable knowing?”
“I want to know everything.”
“Did he ever tell you about his family?”
“No. Only that his father died. He didn’t talk about them. Especially once he found out about my family…issues.”
“He probably didn’t wish to burden you. Why don’t we talk about this while we eat?”
They settled on the sofa, in front of the TV. She liked the familiar feel, less formal than staring at each other over a table.
Once they were comfortable, he told the story while they ate. “His father kicked Cris out when he was only sixteen, after he caught Cris watching gay porn on the internet. Very conservative Spanish Catholic family. Cris’ father was the second youngest of eight children, and the first of the siblings born in the States after their parents moved to California from Barcelona.
“Cris’ mom wouldn’t stand up to his father about it. Cris went to live with one of his uncles on his father’s side, who believed beating him straight was the answer.” He chewed his food, then paused, looking thoughtful. “The irony, of course, is that Cris isn’t gay, he’s bi. But a teenage boy at that stage of life, with a less than supportive family, I don’t need to tell you how destructive that can be. Not just that they were strict Catholics, but the whole male machismo dynamic.
“I also don’t have to tell you how smart Cris is. Despite what he went through, he still managed an academic scholarship to college. That’s where I met him, at a dinner party thrown by one of my friends, Cris’ professor. He hadn’t had time for any kind of dating because between classes and working three part-time jobs to pay his bills, he had a full schedule. I offered to take him in, in exchange for working for me, although I hinted I would enjoy a chance to get to know him better.
Within a week he was also in my bed.
“I suppose in hindsight I acted in a predatory manner, taking advantage of his desperation like that. I truly did like, then come to love him. He was more than willing to explore boundaries and take a submissive role to me. I was older, I had money and provided security. I gave him understanding and affection. I accepted him. For the first time in his life he didn’t have to hide who or what he was.”
She let the silence lay between them while he contemplated his next words. “We’d been together a couple of years when his father had a massive heart attack. His mother contacted him, and we hurried to the hospital. Mind you, he had no contact with his father since he left home. I had never met them, although his mother knew he lived with me even though she didn’t approve of our relationship.
“The man grew enraged to see Cris there, and that was with me standing outside the room where he couldn’t see me. He screamed at him that he didn’t have a son, especially a ‘fag’ son, and threw him out of the room. He died later that night.”
“What about his mother?”
“She blamed Cris for his death. Convinced herself that if he hadn’t shown up at the hospital, his father wouldn’t have died.”
“But she called him!”
“Exactly. Rather convenient for her to forget that fact. I think Cris wanted to blame himself too, for a while. The only blame was on his father, a two-pack-a-day smoker and heavy drinker with a fondness for junk food.” He sighed. “Then a few years later I had to go and ruin it all by thinking he wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t put it together in my egotistical brain that no matter how much I reassured Cris I wanted to be poly because of me, not because of any shortcomings on his part, he saw that as one more rejection in his life. It wasn’t until he left me that I realized how stupidly I’d acted.”
“How did that happen? Your ‘come to Jesus’ moment?”
He sat back. “One of our friends came to me and told me I acted like a selfish asshole for doing that to Cris. Asked me if I was supposed to be his Master, why the hell didn’t I see how badly that hurt him? That was never my intention, obviously. I just thought it was my right, as Master, to seek what I wanted. I thought Cris was being a poor slave by being jealous. I lost sight of the fact that I failed as his Master by forcing that decision on him. When we first got together, we’d agreed to be monogamous and not seek others outside our relationship. I had promised him he was the only one I wanted. When I tried to locate him and tell him I’d reconsidered, he’d already left the area. The friends he remained in contact with, he’d asked them not to give me his information or pass any messages from me to him.
Said he’d cut them out of his life if they tried it.”
“So why did you try to kill yourself?”
He shrugged. “I became angry at myself, then wrongly focused it on Cris. I convinced myself I could find someone as good as or better than him. That it was his loss, not mine. I had a string of meaningless relationships. None of them lived up to him. I had failed to see how selflessly Cris served me in any way I asked of him. All he wanted was to be the only one in my life. That was all he ever asked of me, to not share me. He would have, literally, done anything else I asked of him, no matter how mundane or how kinky. If I had sent him out to serve another Master or be the center of a gang bang, he would have done it. Wouldn’t have liked it, but he would have done it.”