“Katie, wait-”
But Katie rolled along as if Liz hadn’t said a word. “He has not discussed any details of whatever’s going on between the two of you, nor would he. If Reece didn’t check the sign-in sheets once a week, he’d never even have known you went back to the club.”
Liz felt the knot in her stomach unclench. She’d been worried about how to handle this part of her life when the place she went to conduct it was owned by friends. So far no problems, and she and Alex had been meeting three times a week for almost a month. She’d gotten to where she anticipated these meetings more than she’d expected and was having to work very hard to compartmentalize. Alex Wright was like a drug working its way through her system, and she’d already been in that rehab once, thank you very much.
She caught some of her employees looking at her with mild curiosity. After all, this was the first time she’d gone out in the evenings since John died and she became the owner of the Lucky L, but she pointedly ignored their silent speculation.
So what was the deal with Alex? She’d only been looking for a partner, someone to play with after all this time. For the sexual pleasure she’d been denying herself. Why was he making this so complicated? Surely there were plenty of other women for him to see socially.
“What does he want?” As if she didn’t know.
“Liz, he really, really would love to see you outside the club and he says you just shut him down.”
“And he talked to Reece about it?” Liz was stunned.
“He just brought it up in conversation. Said he wondered if you were involved with someone in a vanilla relationship.”
Liz gripped the phone, irritation washing over her. “He should have talked to me about it.”
“Honey, he says he has, and you just ignore him. So what’s the deal? Did he do something wrong? Because if there’s a problem-”
“Katie, no.” She sighed. Shit, shit, shit. “I just…have my reasons.”
There was a second or two of silence. “There is something wrong. I can tell by your voice. And it has nothing to do with Alex.”
“Just leave it, okay?” Every unpleasant memory she’d shoved in her mental attic was banging on the door to be let out.
Another pause. “I’m coming over. And don’t say no, or I’ll make a scene in your front yard and every hand there will come out to see the show.”
“Katie-”
“Uh uh. I’m on my way, so get out the wine.”
And Liz was left holding a dead phone. Oh, hell.
She really didn’t feel like spilling her guts to Katie, exposing a time in her life she did her best to keep buried. But she was aware how relentless her friend could be, how unstoppable when she set her mind to something. She had also learned that Katie was the least judgmental person she knew. Still, dredging up that pain after all this time…
If she hadn’t confided her sexual preferences to Katie…
If she hadn’t allowed herself to be talked into going to Rawhide in the first place…
If she just hadn’t fallen so hard for Alex…
Sighing again, she pulled a nearly full bottle of chardonnay from the fridge and got down two glasses. She’d hidden from the hurt and betrayal for so long. Maybe it was time to unload on someone. And Katie had become a very good friend.
By the time Katie rang the doorbell, Liz was already on her second glass of wine. No way could she do this cold sober.
Katie looked at the glass. “Liquid courage?”
Liz shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Honey, I didn’t come here to make your miserable. I hope you know that. I just knew from your tone of voice you had a big problem. I can’t imagine what could be so bad you have to get drunk to talk about it, but let’s take it out of the closet and destroy it.”
“I wish.” Liz took a healthy swallow of wine.
“Here.” Katie grabbed the wine bottle from her. “Before you finish this by yourself let me have some. And let’s sit down.”
They ended up at the kitchen table, the bottle between them. Katie sipped her drink and watched Liz with shrewd but kind eyes.
“Okay, spill it. Because I have to tell you, Alex Wright is one hot catch. He owns the biggest ranch supply business in the Hill Country, is respected by everyone, and if I weren’t married to Reece, I might go after him myself. So let’s have it.”
Liz drained the second glass of wine, poured a third to give her the courage, and took a sip. The alcohol had taken the edge off her anxiety enough to pull all the dark thoughts out of their hiding place.
“Maybe it’s time.” She sighed and looked down at her glass. “I…was involved with someone just before I came to work at the Lucky L. I met him at a club where I used to live.”
“And?” Katie prompted when Liz paused.
“At first, we met just a couple of times a week at a club where we were both members. Then three times a week. And suddenly we became…exclusive.”
“Exclusive. You mean outside the club, too?”
“Not in the beginning.” Liz played with the stem of her glass, trying to focus on something unemotional. “But then he asked me out to dinner. By then I was so besotted with him…” She curled her hand tightly around the glass, feeling the cool surface. “I’m telling you, Katie, he was an incredible Dom. Unbelievable. And he taught me so much. But…” She paused a moment to pull in a deep breath. “There were obvious signals and I missed them.”
“Signals?” Katie frowned. “Like what?”
“He was very controlling. Not just in D/s play. He knew I didn’t actually live the life, that the bedroom was where I needed it. But he took it into other areas of our life together. It was so insidious, the way he did it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We started…going out together. Pretty soon I was seeing him almost every night in the week. Sometimes I’d spend the weekend at his place. He got to be like a drug with me. I couldn’t get enough of him. I lived for his approval and the intense sexual pleasure he always gave me.”
“Something happened,” Katie guessed.
Liz nodded. “I woke up one morning and realized I wasn’t even choosing my own food any more. Or what to wear each day. It wasn’t like he would, say, buy something for me and tell me he wanted me to wear it that night. He practically restocked my closet, and each morning he would lay out very precisely my outfit for the day.” She took a healthy swallow of her drink. “Then he decided I should sell my car. He would drive me to and from work. He managed to cut my friends out of my life. Anyone I spent time with. I liked to work out at a health club, so instead he had a room set up in his home and he supervised my exercise.”
“My god, Liz. He wasn’t a Dom. He was a control freak, a man with an unhealthy obsession who abused the meaning of a D/s relationship. I’m willing to bet you weren’t the only one this happened with.”
Liz nibbled her lower lip. “Probably. But at the time I was so under his thumb, I didn’t even see what was happening. I loved him so much—or thought I did—that I’d do anything to please him.”
“I hope you realize now that what you actually had with him was an unhealthy enslavement.”
“Yes.” Again Liz dropped her gaze. This part shamed her more than everything else. Her inability or unwillingness to act for herself. “But I couldn’t seem to break free.”
“So what finally happened?”
“He picked me up from work one day and, instead of taking me home, drove me to a small apartment building. When we got there, he unlocked a downstairs unit and ushered me inside. While I was trying to figure out what the hell was going on, he went out to the car and came back carrying three suitcases. This was my home now, he told me, handing me the keys. He was moving on. The attraction he felt was gone. I was never to contact him again. Or go back to the club. My membership had been revoked.” She still felt vestiges of the crushing pain. “And he turned around and left. Just like that.”