He laughed as he handed her the bag. “Technically, it’s Sully’s boat. But you’re part of the family, so to speak.”
They loaded and she fell into the familiar routine as if she’d never missed a trip. There were a few different boats in the marina and two of the covered slip sheds had been expanded. Other than that, not much had changed. She cast off the lines and stood watch as Mac deftly guided the boat out of the marina and down the channel.
Despite the warm afternoon, wind off the chilly Gulf soon forced her to don her hoodie. She stood next to Mac in the wheelhouse and watched the Gulf waters slip past. He hooked an arm around her shoulder.
“Feeling okay?”
She instinctively leaned in to his firm, warm body. “Yeah. Better than I have in a long time.”
She cooked them dinner while he set the autopilot and kept watch.
Not much had changed on the Dilly Dally in her absence other than newer electronics and a new autopilot.
She brought their plates to the wheelhouse and ate with Mac.
He smiled. “You look relaxed.”
“I am.” The sun dipped in the sky, painting the horizon in fiery reds and oranges. “I can almost forget.”
He didn’t break the silence for a while. “What are you thinking?”
The answer that popped out of her mouth surprised even her.
“What’s really in the other room? The one that’s locked?”
He choked on his soda and took a moment to regain his composure. He laughed. “You don’t waste words, do you?”
“No.”
He took another drink to buy him some time. “How much do you want to know?”
“How much should I know?” She indicated his neck, the padlocked collar. He’d changed it out before they left home, wearing the heavy silver necklace. Then after they pulled the Dilly out of the marina basin, Mac had put the leather collar back on. “It has to do with all of that, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. It does.” He turned to her. “You want the full and honest truth, or a bullshit euphemism?”
“The full and honest truth.”
“Sully and I are into BDSM. We have our own dungeon.”
She blinked. “Say again?”
Mac’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “We have our own dungeon.
Playroom. I like it when he ties me up and whips me.”
She sat back. He intently stared into her eyes, not letting her gaze wander. “Whips you?” she whispered, all strength in her voice gone.
“Yep. Like we told you, we’ll never ask you to participate in any of that.” He set his plate on the dash. “We do, however, sometimes host parties, have friends over who are also in the lifestyle. Play parties. I haven’t talked to Sully about that yet. We’re supposed to host one next weekend. I need to find out if he wants to cancel.”
Her mouth had gone dry. “You let him beat you? Why?”
“It’s complicated. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“But you’re bigger than him!”
“So?”
Her brain felt like it had short-circuited. Comfort drained from her soul.
He stood and took her empty plate. “Can you stand watch?” he asked. “I’ll go wash up.”
She numbly nodded.
When he returned to the wheelhouse twenty minutes later, she felt a little more stable. “So what’s in the room you didn’t want me to see?”
“You won’t let up, will you?”
“No.”
“I’ll be happy to show you when we get home, if you really want to see.”
“Why the lock?”
“We tell people it’s Sully’s private office. We don’t want people wandering in there who don’t belong. We do have vanilla friends who come over on occasion.”
“Jason and his wife?”
“Yep. He probably suspects Sully’s in charge in our relationship, but he doesn’t know everything.”
What trust she’d built for Sully slipped away like the boat’s wake.
Did she believe he would he hurt her? No. Had he taken care of Tad and been more than generous with her? Absolutely. Had he made her feel welcomed and safe? Definitely. Would she let him get any closer to her?
Probably not. Not if he was doing something like that to someone as sweet as Mac.
She turned away from Mac and stared out the front windows.
Tried to reconcile the warmth, affection, and security she’d felt while nestled in Sully’s arms with this new truth.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She wanted to keep her thoughts to herself. What Sully and Mac did in their private life was just that—private. She had no right to inject her opinions into their relationship. But throughout the evening, as he set their drag patterns into the GPS and they started their shrimp run, every time her eyes fell on Mac’s collar, she wanted to cringe.
Poor Mac.
What had Sully done to him to talk him into such a relationship?
Faced with the reality of their truth, she found it difficult to maintain the open-minded mindset she’d prided herself on.
She sorted shrimp in silence. At break time, she retreated to the bow cabin to lie down and rest. Unfortunately, her brain wouldn’t shut off.
Her thoughts drifted back to that first night. Despite her exhaustion and confusion and fear, she remembered her body’s reaction while watching the men.
Why did it feel different for her now knowing it was really Sully in charge and knowing what Mac let Sully to do him?
Knowing it was an irrational way to think didn’t make her any more able to change her mind.
Clarisse closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
Mac stared out at the dark water. No boat lights in sight, only the stars and moon. He’d screwed up and he knew it. He’d felt Clarisse’s emotional withdrawal after admitting what lay behind mysterious door number three.
He should have waited, let Sully handle it. No way he could have lied to her, even if he’d wanted to. Lying felt alien to him after his years with Sully.
He had enough shrimp on board to fulfill his obligation to the bait wholesaler at the dock. He baited a few lines and set the rods in holders on deck. Not much else to do, it kept his mind off the sick feeling permeating his gut that he might have driven Clarisse away from them.
Before dawn she emerged from the cabin. He forced a smile and fixed her a cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep?”
She sounded guarded. “Good.”
He couldn’t stand it any longer. “Can we talk about this?”
“About what?” From the way she ducked past him on her way to the wheelhouse, he knew his assessment was spot-on.
“What we talked about last night. I know it sounds weird, especially considering what you’ve been through. Believe me, what Master and I have together, it’s okay. I want it this way.”
“That’s between you two. I’m sorry I asked. It’s none of my business.”
From her tone, he knew better than to press her.
I’m sorry too. For being a dumbass and not waiting for Master to handle this.
Mac hated the cautious mask she wore all weekend. Fearing he’d do something else to scare her, he walked on eggshells around her. By the time they headed back to Tarpon on Sunday afternoon, he prayed that he hadn’t done irreparable damage to the trust he’d established with her.
She sat in the passenger seat and wore Sully’s sunglasses against the bright glare.
He couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“Scaring you.”
Finally, she turned to look at him. He wished she’d take the sunglasses off so he could see her eyes. “You didn’t scare me, Mac.”
Her tone sounded measured. He clearly heard it in her voice, the way she weighed every word before speaking.