She felt a little ill. “You didn’t do that, did you?”
“No. Used it as a threat a few times in scenes to mindfuck him, but never did it. My point is, he could go to work, be there ten or twelve hours, then come home and clean house or whatever until two or three in the morning and get up and do it all over again for me. He helped me build my business. He never complained. He never questioned me on anything, until I threw it all away. I took him for granted, how his love for me permeated everything he did, no matter what the service. I never had to lift a finger at home. After I lost him, I could find someone who wanted to play slave for a week or two, but eventually they would whine and complain that they wanted free time, or that they were bored, or that they wanted to do something else.
“Cris never did that. Ever.”
She tried to process that. She couldn’t reconcile Landry’s Cris with her strong Master. “Why do you think he became a Dom?”
He shrugged. “Why did you?”
“Honestly? I did it for the money.”
“Not just. For the control. The independence. The ‘fuck you’ to the world, no?”
She thought about it. “Maybe. Mostly it was twice the money for a fraction of the work.”
“How was he as a Master?”
“I wondered why he never had a problem chipping in with the chores.”
Landry laughed. “The man can fold and iron clothes like no one’s business.”
She snorted, amused. “Amen.” They clinked glasses in a toast.
“He took a class for that, too. One of the groups where we used to live, they ran a three-month course for lifestyle slaves. A professional butler taught them things like that.”
They finished eating and he helped her with the dishes. “So tell me about yourself,” Landry said. “Cris told me just the basics.” She must have frowned at that. He clarified. “It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about you because you meant little to him. He wanted to protect your privacy. It was quite obvious to me from how he sounded when talking about you that he loved you very much.”
She didn’t know how to deal with that information. “Oh.”
“He told me your step-father went to jail for attacking you.”
Her stomach turned. “Do we need to talk about that right now?” she asked, her jaw tight.
“Of course not. Not if you don’t wish to.”
“Good.”
After they finished eating and he helped her with the dishes, she yawned. “I’m going to go change clothes. Want to watch TV for a while?”
“Ah, we’re already acting like an old married couple.”
She changed into an oversized T-shirt and comfy sleeping shorts. He didn’t change, but he pulled the shirttail free of his jeans and unbuttoned it. She didn’t miss the pale scars twisting across his abdomen.
He followed her gaze. “Yes, I’m not very pretty, am I?” He patted his lap. “Put your feet up here, Madame.”
She laid back on the couch and moaned as he began massaging her feet. “That’s great!”
No one had given her a foot massage since…
Even though a few of her clients were into foot worship, she couldn’t stomach the thought of most of them touching her. No one had really touched her since Cris left. Cris had always given damn good foot rubs.
“Yes, I taught him this,” Landry said as he slowly kneaded her feet. “Does that surprise you?
That a Master enjoys doing this?”
She looked up at him, caught his teasing expression. “I know. No assumptions.”
He grinned. “No assumptions. Absolutely.”
They talked until well past midnight. Landry called Cris twice more, never revealing where he was or what they were doing. Eventually they moved to her bedroom. He went into the bathroom and changed into a pair of silk boxers.
“So I don’t get a preview tonight?” she teased.
He laughed as he slipped under the sheets with her. “Let’s let the sexual tension build. You barely know me.”
She wouldn’t deny letting him draw her close and cuddle her in his arms as they settled on their sides felt good.
Damn good.
She liked the way his body fit hers. He kissed the back of her neck. “Comfy?”
“Yeah. Actually, I am.”
“Good.”
Chapter Seven
The slave didn’t know where Master had spent the night. It wasn’t his business, although he was curious.
He hoped whatever Master had planned that it didn’t involve Tilly.
He also hoped that Master didn’t drag her into their lives any more than he already had. He loved her, would always love and miss her, but how cruel to interrupt her life when she’d obviously moved on?
Bob. Was he her boyfriend and not just a client? The guy sure had acted pissed enough to be a boyfriend.
Slave beat back his jealousy again. He’d released her. He’d chosen his path.
He had no right to feel jealous over who might be sharing her bed. Surely she’d found someone else by now.
Hadn’t she?
Part of him prayed she had, that she hadn’t spent those years alone while he warmed Landry’s bed, relatively happy except for the hole in his heart where he would always miss and love her. And he would feel even guiltier if she hadn’t.
Part of him hoped she didn’t have anyone, that she still in some small way belonged to him.
Because the thought of another man touching her ripped his heart out even though he knew he had no right to feel like that.
At seven-thirty that morning, the room phone rang. He answered it before the first ring ended.
“Master?”
“That’s my good boy. Get a shower, get dressed, go eat breakfast. Walk around a little if you’d like. Be back at the room by ten. You may stay dressed until I say otherwise.”
“Yes, Master.”
Master hung up, leaving slave listening to a dial tone.
He smiled. Master had called him his good boy.
That was the most affection he’d had from him in a month.
Landry laid his cell on the bedside table. Tilly still slept beside him. They’d need a bigger bed, that’s for sure. He liked room to move around.
Would he be able to convince her to stay after their agreement ended? He’d caught glimpses of her slave nature throughout the day yesterday. No, he wouldn’t exploit her like that. He promised not to top her and he’d meant it.
How would Cris react? Would he maintain his slave status, or would having Tilly around bring out his dominant nature and end his service? Could Cris live with his dual nature with both of them?
Would he try to win her back?
Would he stay?
He rolled onto his side so he could look at her. Her request had shocked the hell out of him. He suspected it was more an angry reaction on her part than a genuine desire for revenge. It wouldn’t surprise him if at the last minute she couldn’t go through with it. Truth be told, he looked forward to it.
He felt his cock stiffen in his shorts, morning woody time.
Normally he and Cris would make love, if they had time. Since the revelation he’d ordered slave over to his bed to service him when he felt like it.
He missed the affection more than he’d ever admit. He’d slept better last night than he had in the past month. Having Tilly in his arms definitely didn’t feel like a chore or a sacrifice.
When she opened her eyes he was glad he’d pulled the sheet up to his waist. His cock thickened, throbbing as her hazel eyes met his. Her gaze flicked down to his waist and back up to his face.