Tilly was surprised to realize she liked it.
Landry was asleep when the movers arrived with the batch of boxes and furniture that wasn’t earmarked to go into storage. Tilly helped Cris coordinate moving everything into the garage until they could sort it out later. The movers had no sooner left than the car transporter showed up. Finally, an hour later, and with an Acura sedan and a Mercedes unlike anything she’d ever seen in her life sharing her driveway, she was alone with Cris.
She walked around the car. “What the heck is this?”
He smirked. “Master’s toy. His four-wheeled toy,” he clarified. “Mercedes-Benz SLR
McLaren.”
“Expensive?” She nervously looked for any signs of birds in the trees over her drive. The transporter had delivered the cars in an enclosed trailer, not an open truck like she’d seen dealerships use.
He smirked. “Til, let’s just say the insurance on this car for a year usually runs more than most people pay to buy an average mid-priced car.”
“I’m guessing it needs to be in the garage when we finally get the garage cleaned out again?”
“Wouldn’t be a bad idea. You look pretty nervous.” He grinned.
“Bite me.” She mentally winced as soon as she said it, but he didn’t totally rise to the bait.
“No comment,” he said with a mischievous smile.
She swatted him on the arm. “Be nice to me if you want my help.”
They sorted and unpacked boxes all afternoon. When Landry awoke, she immediately nipped in the bud any protests to her helping Cris. “I volunteered, and I don’t mind doing it because it was either that or stare at you sleeping. I want this house put back into some semblance of order as soon as possible.”
Landry laid back against his pillow and smiled. “Yes, dear.”
Cris brayed with laughter. “I should mark this date down, the date hell officially froze over. He said ‘yes, dear.’”
They were back out in the garage when she spotted a few old boxes in the far corner, ones she remembered packing and while upset, had never had the heart to dispose of. Over the years she’d forgotten them.
She walked over to the shelving units, where they took up all the top shelves. “Hey, Cris?” she softly called.
“Yeah?”
She pointed. “You’ll want these, too.” Then she turned, hurried into the house, and locked herself in Cris’ bathroom for a few minutes to regain her composure. She didn’t dare go to her bedroom, knowing Landry would immediately spot her tears.
When she returned to the garage, Cris had pulled all the boxes down and opened them. He sat cross-legged on the floor, shirtless and in his collar, as he slowly sorted through them.
He didn’t look at her when he softly spoke. “I can’t believe you kept all this.” Mementoes, family pictures, miscellaneous odds and ends. The books, CDs, and DVDs she left in the house. He finally looked at her. “Thank you.”
She nodded, struggling to keep her composure. “You’re welcome.” She cleared her throat.
“Anything else I can help you do out here?”
“Um, yeah, if you want, there’s a few boxes of his clothes over there. They’re marked. And the wardrobe box. I sent most of our winter clothes to storage until I can go through them later.”
She took over doing that, grateful to blame her red eyes on dust and heat when she carried the first box into her bedroom and started unpacking it.
Landry watched from the bed. “I’d offer to help, love, but I suspect that will earn me grief from both you and slave.”
“Got that right, buster. Just sit there and look pretty.”
He smiled. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
She stopped and looked at him. A few weeks ago, she’d been alone. And now…
She smiled. “I love you, too.”
By the end of the next week, Landry felt a little perky and wanted to go to the club. Both Tilly and Cris tried to talk him out of it, but that only seemed to cement his determination. Rather than fighting him, they caved. On Friday night, with Cris behind the wheel and already wearing his formal collar and cuffs, they drove to the club.
Loren glared at Cris, but gave Tilly and Landry a hug. Whenever Loren stopped by the house, Cris always disappeared into his bedroom, the only time Landry told him he was allowed to close his bedroom door without asking permission first.
“I hope you’re beating the shit out of a certain someone tonight,” Loren said to Landry.
Tilly intervened. “No, you can’t help.”
Loren pouted. “He’s right. You are a spoil sport.” She started to say something else, but Ross was ready for her and hollered at her. “Oops, gotta go.” She grinned at Landry. “I’ll catch up with you later, when Tilly is busy.” She stuck her tongue out at her friend and flounced off to join her husband.
Tilly couldn’t help but notice how Cris gave her the slightest of smiles when he caught her eye.
He couldn’t outright tell her thanks in front of Landry, but when Landry turned his back to reach into the toy bag, she did give Cris a wink.
That drew a full, albeit brief smile from him.
Other than the brief glimpse the very first night she encountered Landry at the club, she’d never watched him scene with Cris. He hadn’t felt well enough. Another friend she hadn’t seen in a while caught her attention, and when she returned a few minutes later, Landry had Cris stripped and bound to a bench with wrist and ankle cuffs.
Landry had picked a bench in the corner, and she stepped around behind them, to the wall, and took a seat on the floor next to their gear. She’d opted for slacks and reasonable heels with her corset instead of ridiculously high stilettos. She wasn’t Mistress Cardinal tonight, she was Tilly LaCroux, and she didn’t feel like being dressed uncomfortably.
Landry slowly stroked Cris’ back. He’d been blindfolded, instead of hooded. Tilly watched
Landry’s strong hands as they caressed the other man’s flesh and a flare of heat roiled in her belly.
She wished it was her.
Stop that. Forget it. You’ve got more than you should ask for to start with.
After a few minutes, she realized this Landry, sensually dominant, was a far different man than the vicious sadist she’d witnessed just a little of. If this was indicative of their normal relationship, it eased her mind and conscious marginally, that he could express that kind of tenderness for Cris.
It didn’t last.
Once he had Cris settled into a mindset she guessed probably wasn’t quite subspace, Landry started spanking him with his bare hands. She watched Cris tightly grip the handholds on the bench and wiggle his ass into Landry’s swing, making him laugh.
She also noticed Landry spoke French. “My slave feels playful tonight. That pleases me.” He switched to a riding crop, immediately raising welts on Cris’ ass and thighs. It surprised her he didn’t start with a flogger, but she wouldn’t question it. He obviously knew what he was doing.
From that point on, Landry’s sadism took over. She watched him skillfully stagger the level of play, building up and stepping down, taking the level of pain up a notch each time, until he switched to a cane, then a singletail.
Tilly smoothed her hands over her arms as she watched, fascinated and terrified at the same time. She’d seen heavy play before, plenty of times. Been the top in countless heavy scenes. Landry’s skill took it to another level, calculated strikes that left Cris’ body red and welted.
He paused and stepped around to Cris’ head, grabbed his hair, and roughly hauled his head up so he could speak in his ear. She couldn’t hear what Landry said to Cris, or the reply, over the loud music rolling through the dungeon space.