Page 4 of Dark Secret

I knew by now that no other woman would do for me. I’d tried to have a little fun one night when I first met her, and I hadn’t been able to get her off of my mind. I’d gone home, instead, and that should have been the first warning that something wasn’t right. That she’d already started to change me.

Stephanie, with those tempting gray eyes and that infectious laugh of hers. Could I go on much longer without her? I doubted it if I’d had to sleep two days to get over the shock of her walking out on me. How did I go about this while keeping some of my pride intact?

I left the pool room and moved into the dark living room. I went to the glass walls to stare out at the city below. Cars and resort hotels turned the darkness into day in the distance, but from my lofty perch I could see darkness that reigned on the outskirts. That was kind of like me with Stephanie.

At the center was fun, life, light, and on the outskirts? Dark emptiness. She’d brought so much to me, and one of those things was this feeling I’d tried to ignore, up until she’d tore up the contract and walked out on me. Completion. I didn’t feel so … hollow, inside anymore. Not when she was around.

I’d seen the hurt and anger in her eyes and ignored it that night. I’d thought my will was stronger, and she’d bow down, in true sub fashion, and give in to my demands for a signed contract. Instead, she’d shown a subs prerogative and walked out. She’d shown some sense, in fact. She’d been right about one thing—signing contracts so frequently was stupid.

Maybe, just maybe, I could offer her one for six months. Would that be long enough to get her out of my system? Would that be long enough for her to grow tired of me?

This time it was me who chewed at their lip. I swiped my hand over my jaw and thought about it. Could I go to her and be with her? Without a contract? That was scary to me. Dangerous even. I didn’t want a relationship, but little Miss Stephanie had changed all of that.

I was fairly certain I’d wanted a relationship with her. My heart raced, and my blood heated as I thought about a little more than just sex and someone to watch a movie with. A woman to maybe, care for? I wasn’t about to say love because that was just a stupid concept women made up, but caring and friendship were real.

Would she want me to call her? Should I go to her house and ask for forgiveness? It had been two days. She was probably fuming by now and ready to throw her shoes at me. She had a pretty good collection of those, I’d noticed. Some of them were rather pointy too. Hmm.

I’d tried to call her, but the call went right to voicemail. She was either screening her calls or the phone was off. As I knew she’d never turned her phone off, it must have been that she didn’t want to talk to me. Well then.

Maybe a drive to see Roxie and get her opinion on all of this, was in order.

Emily

The thing about having stuff in your house to dampen the echo was that it needed to be cleaned. I’d barely had my new knickknacks for a week and dust had already started to settle on all of them. I probably wouldn’t have noticed two weeks ago, but as I looked around the house for something to fill my time, the first signs of dust caught my eye.

I’d found a dusting cloth and some utensil I’d bought because it promised to cut my cleaning time in half and headed to the living room first. I polished the candle holders and dusted the beer crates I’d moved in from the hallway. They looked cute in there, but boy, did they collect dust. Then I’d made my way through the rest of the house and polished up a few more things, and before I knew it, I was on my hands and knees, cleaning the grout in the bathroom. This was not how I’d planned to spend my day, but then I didn’t really have a plan.

I threw off the yellow plastic gloves I’d put on to protect my nails and skin and looked around. I was lonely, but I was also a little upset. I thought Dylan would have called me by now. He hadn’t, though, and that made me angry. Well, more hurt than angry, but still. He could have at least sent me a message or something.

I didn’t think he was serious when he’d said it was over if I left. People said things like that all the time, but they didn’t mean it. I’d figured he’d be angry for a little while, and then he’d come around and see me, his face sheepish. Or I’d get a message asking if I wanted to go and eat. There’d been none of that.

I’d twisted my mouth around as I thought about spending the rest of my evening on my hands and knees, but this time scrubbing instead of, well … those other things. Oh, those things I was starting to miss really badly. I sat back against the wall and thought about the things I’d done with Dylan and wondered.

Hmmm.

Could I? No, I couldn’t. Maybe, if it was someone similar… I didn’t think I could do any of that kind of stuff with someone who wasn’t Dylan, but I wouldn’t know until I tried, would I? It had been a week since I’d left his place. There’d been no communication. Maybe it really was over?

If that was the case, there was no use in sitting here, waiting on a call that wouldn’t come. I got up, took a shower, dressed up a little, put my now well-worn mask in my bag, and headed for Elmo’s. I’d have a drink or two, have a look around, and see what happened. Surely, Dylan wouldn’t be there? Maybe he’d found a property by now and was planning to move on, his conquest in the bag.

He knew Roxie and I were friends, and that I might turn up there. He wouldn’t dare come in, not if he wasn’t looking for me. I went in the back way, my mask in place from the moment I’d parked the car, and found Roxie quickly. She’d just finished her set and was in her dressing room, about to change her clothes after a quick shower.

She’d hugged me, before she sat down, her dressing gown a whirl of purple silk around her. “Tell me, baby.”

“Well, I needed some time out of that house. I feel like a ghost in it sometimes. Like I’m haunting it or something.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Has Dylan called?” Her pretty face, heavily made up but artfully so, examined my features, and didn’t find a hint of sadness. I’d done my makeup well and hidden the dark circles under my eyes.

“No, and at this point, I don’t care if he calls.” I schooled my features into a defiant look, flipped my blonde hair out of my face, and stared off into the distance. “He can just fuck right off.”

“Do you mean that, though?” she asked as she put a pencil skirt on over a pair of lacy panties and a very supportive bra. She’d slid a matching top on with a peplum waist and a plunging neckline. The deep burgundy color suited her, and I’d wondered how the same outfit would look on me.

I looked down at the black silk dress that barely covered my thighs, and knew I was elegantly dressed, but that was sexy and smart looking. I’d decided to order some more clothes when I got home.

“Emily!” she whispered loudly and bent down to look me in the eyes. Blue met gray, and I backed my head up to avoid her.

“Of course, I mean it. He hasn’t called; he hasn’t been by…” I didn’t finish because she pulled on a pair of shoes and sat beside me.

“You aren’t here looking for someone to replace him with, are you? Or, heaven help me, make him jealous if he finds out?” Again, she leaned into me and looked deep into my eyes.