Read Borderline Page 9


  “Hi, Tilly.” He glanced around, looking for any sign of Landry or Cris.

  “I’m here alone,” she said. “Well, I came with Ross and Loren, but just me. So what are you doing here?”

  He relaxed, shrugging. “I come here sometimes.” His gaze flicked down to his feet. “You know. Just…hanging out.” He felt a warm rush roll through him when he realized she was staring at his collar.

  Rather, Her collar.

  She sees it!

  “Are you meeting anyone tonight?” she asked.

  “No. Just thought I’d cruise in and hang out.”

  She seemed to be mulling something over. “Would you like to play? As friends,” she added with a smile. “Tilly and Bob.”

  He nearly burst into tears of relief. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

  When she tried to grab her gear bag, he beat her to it and carried it for her.

  She led him to the far corner of the dungeon where few people were playing yet and staked out a bench.

  Maybe this was wrong. Maybe he was setting himself up for more heartache.

  He didn’t care.

  If he could play with her tonight he would, and damn the consequences later. He’d had perfection within his grasp when it had once again been wrenched from his fingers.

  He’d learned from his past and the mistakes he’d made with Charlene. He could have been everything Tilly needed, the way she would have been everything he needed. He could have been strong and in charge when she needed him to be, knowing it was what she needed and yet still serving her.

  He rarely made the same mistake twice, except, here he was, laying his heart out to be butterflied and flambéed before everyone.

  He didn’t care. He’d been alone for so long, it didn’t matter anymore. If all he could have of her was this, he’d gladly take it and the consequences.

  Damn everything but right now, right here, with Her.

  He stood awaiting her instructions, desperate to be her good boy.

  “Get undressed,” she softly told him. He smiled and started unbuttoning his shirt.

  She dug through her bag and came up with a pair of wrist cuffs he recognized all too well as ones she’d used on him in the past. Once he’d stripped, he patiently stood still while she fastened them on him.

  She hooked him to the bench and started massaging him with her hands, in a way she never had before. He relaxed under her touch, quickly falling into subspace.

  Welcoming its tug.

  She felt different…and yet it was better. She took her time, stepping him up and back time and again, sensual sadism instead of her usually vicious way with him.

  Not that he’d ever complain about her viciousness. He’d always sensed it was a need she had as well, burning off anger or pain, or a little of both. He’d felt honored back then that he was one of the few people she would scene with at the club, able to help her sate whatever needs she had.

  Tonight, he felt connected to her in a way he never had before.

  She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Do you want to be my good boy?”

  “Yes, Mistress!” There was nothing he wanted more, not breathing, not life.

  He’d do anything she asked of him.

  “You want to come for me?”

  He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right, but hoped he had. “Yes, Mistress!”

  She reached under him with her left hand and grabbed his stiff cock. With her right, she spanked him bare-handed. “Come for me, boy.”

  His hips frantically worked in time with her motions, until he let out a cry and his hot juices coated her hand, slicking his cock even more. But she didn’t stop, spanking him with more force, milking him, forcing his cock to stay rigid until a few minutes later he was begging her to stop even as she pulled another, smaller orgasm from him.

  Only then did she stop. She wiped her hands on a towel and unhooked his wrists. Grabbing a few wipes from the canister by the bench, she cleaned herself and him, then helped him sit up.

  He trembled in her arms, desperately clinging to her even as she wrapped him in her embrace, her eyes closed. He’d been so close to perfection with her, and it felt so close again.

  She stroked his back, his hair, as she held him. Then she kissed the top of his head.

  “You’re a good boy,” she softly told him. “Thank you for letting me play with you tonight.”

  “Thank you.” His brain was trying to tap on his heart, where it had locked common sense out of the room. She couldn’t be his, no matter what he wanted.

  Still, he couldn’t deny himself a chance to play with her. To spend whatever time he could in her orbit.

  Eventually, he felt steady enough to get dressed. They both cleaned up and met at one of the corner sofas to sit and talk for a while.

  “Anything new in your life?” she asked before he could start.

  “No, not really. Work, home, Rotary. Hallmark ornaments.” That made her smile, he was happy to see.

  “Not dating?”

  He shrugged. “No.” When the silence weighed heavy on them, he spoke. “Thank you for this, Tilly. I appreciate it.”

  She offered him a smile. “I’m glad you came tonight. No pun intended.”

  He rested his arm on the back of the couch. His fingers brushed her arm. “Are you doing okay? He treating you well?”

  Maybe it made him a shit to hope there was a chance, but if it did, he’d own it.

  “Yeah. Still abusing my ex.”

  He used a grin to hide his disappointment. “Good. I’m glad.” His smile faded. “You happy?”

  “Landry’s a good man. I love him. The doctors are pretty confident he’s going to beat the cancer.”

  His fingers didn’t leave her arm. “He’s not jealous of you being here?” He met her gaze. “I can’t say I’d be happy about my wife being with another guy like this.”

  “He’s not a jealous man like that.” She smirked. “He probably would have enjoyed watching me do that to you. Landry and I have something in common, you know.”

  “What?”

  “We both enjoy naked men.” He must have looked confused, because she elaborated. “Landry identifies as gay, sleeping with me notwithstanding. I’m sure he’d think you were hot.”

  Bob laughed. “So if I run into you here with him, I shouldn’t be surprised if he offers to play with me, too?” Hell, he wasn’t really even kidding. A chance to play with her?

  He’d take it.

  However he had to take it.

  She grinned. “Maybe I could get you a twofer if you wanted.”

  His eyes widened a little as his cock thickened in his jeans. “Holy fuck,” he muttered. “I’m not gay, but I have to admit the thought of that made me hard.”

  She leaned in and brushed a kiss across his lips. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

  * * * *

  They talked late into the night, and when the club closed, he watched Tilly leave with Ross and Loren while he sat in his car for a few minutes, trying to mentally digest their conversation.

  He could very well be a regular play partner with her. She’d said once more before they’d parted ways for the night that she would talk to Landry about it.

  She’d meant it. It wasn’t merely polite conversation.

  No, he wouldn’t push, wouldn’t bug her. She had a lot on her plate, and despite the circumstances, he wasn’t enough of an asshole to intrude on the man’s cancer treatments just so he could get his own ass beat.

  Finally, driving home, he replayed their scene in his mind. Tilly had definitely felt more…there tonight. Like she had during their few brief times together, when it was Bob and Tilly and not Mistress and boy.

  Who am I kidding? I’m in love with Her. I always have been.

  Another reason he knew dating was useless. Every woman he dated would be measured against Her.

  He thought about Melissa. No, he wouldn’t give up seeing Tilly, no matter how infrequently, just to make some woman happy who had
no clue about what he really needed to make him happy.

  He’d even thought about contacting Louise and seeing if maybe he could fly up and see her, but when he’d looked her up on Facebook six months ago, there were plenty of pictures of her with a guy, and she looked happy.

  He wouldn’t bother her. It’d been, what, twenty years?

  Who knew if she even remembered his name?

  Besides, he realized even though Louise had been his gold standard before meeting Tilly, Tilly had surpassed her. Given him even more than he’d realized he needed.

  Not just the dominance, but the service, the strict control.

  He’d left his collar on after leaving the club, and when he walked into his condo, he stripped immediately after locking the front door behind him. In the bathroom, he looked in the mirror at the marks on his back, ass, and thighs, and thought about all the previous times he’d done that after spending time scening with Tilly.

  How he would have been happy tonight even if doing nothing more than kneeling at her feet and listening to her talk with others.

  How his life had a huge, gaping, Tilly-shaped hole in it, and maybe he needed professional help to get over her, because he sure as fucking hell wasn’t doing a very good job of it on his own.

  * * * *

  Bob dreamed about Tilly that night, disturbing thoughts, of trying to get to her, to save her, only for her to slip out of his reach. Dreams that left him crying and waking up to find his pillow wet from tears.

  He couldn’t remember how they went, only that it felt like he’d let her down.

  There was still part of him that wished he’d taken a swing at her ex that night. That he’d gone out there and beaten the shit out of Cris. Not just for the pain he’d caused her, but for coming back right when he’d seriously had a chance to be happy, to have his perfect life with the perfect woman.

  Even more when he discovered in retrospect that, for all those years, Cris had been with someone else while she’d suffered alone. Worse, Cris had basically lied to Tilly about who he was when they’d been together. Hadn’t told her about Landry.

  Pot, meet kettle.

  And yet…that fucker still got the girl, and all he got was a handful of heartache he couldn’t even do anything about.

  While he had a gym membership, he didn’t feel like going that morning. Instead, he opted to stay home and clean the condo, top to bottom, even though it didn’t need it.

  Maybe, at some point, he’d be able to wear himself into exhaustion and stop thinking about Tilly for more than five minutes.

  Chapter Eleven

  Present…

  Cris buckled Bob’s leather collar onto him while Landry worked with Skye in the foyer. As soon as she’d walked through the door, Landry had ordered her to strip, and she had been cuffed and collared. Now, Landry had her on her hands and knees in a formal bow, his hand fisted in her hair, and was talking to her. It looked like she’d already fallen hard and fast into subspace.

  Before Cris stepped back, he dropped Bob a wink.

  Long before now, Bob had reached a place of peace where that man was concerned. Cris and Tilly had talked to Bob, individually and together, to give him the story of before. More talks with Landry, about the details of Cris’ return. Bob knew there were still pieces of the story he was missing, because the men outright said they were Tilly’s parts to tell, if and when she chose to tell them.

  It wasn’t a choice Bob would have made, abandoning Tilly, but if she had forgiven the man, it wasn’t his job to hold a grudge in her place, either.

  She was his Mistress, and he was her good boy. She wanted him to get along with Cris, and so Bob did.

  It didn’t hurt that Cris was a nice guy, once Bob had got past the wanting to pound Cris’ ass into the pavement feelings over him.

  Now, they had a special, shared bond—they were both collared to Landry, although Cris obviously occupied a far deeper space in Landry’s life and heart than Bob did or ever likely could.

  As Landry talked to Skye, telling her what a good girl she was, Bob tried to tune it out.

  He had a job to do tonight, and it’d be too easy for him to fall under Landry’s spell, to want to drop to his knees and give himself to his Master. Landry had tasked him with focusing on Skye. She would be the only one Bob would be able to talk to—unless he needed to answer Landry or Cris in a way he couldn’t through gestures. He’d take care of her, keep an eye on her needs, alert the men if there was a problem they hadn’t noticed yet. During the scene, he and Cris would help Landry with implements and handling Axel.

  Then Bob would handle her aftercare if Axel squirreled.

  Again.

  Hopefully, that wouldn’t be necessary. If all went according to plan, Bob would be the last one in the room with Axel and Skye after the scene ended, just in case he was needed. Landry and Cris would step out and, hopefully, Axel would have gotten his head on straight.

  In some ways, Bob knew he was lucky. First Tilly, and now Landry seemed able to read his mind, more than willing not only to meet his needs, but figure out puzzles he didn’t even know existed inside him, unlocking doors previously hidden to him.

  Pushing him in ways he’d never realized he’d needed to grow.

  As much time as he spent with them, no, he didn’t need a relationship in addition to them. He had one—heck, he had three. It was a romance, in many ways. He knew they felt affection for him.

  Notwithstanding the fact that he had no guarantees about his place in their lives, he enjoyed what they had. Fuck, he had keys and an alarm code. He babysat their daughter. He’d driven Tilly’s brand-new car that probably cost as much as his condo was worth.

  He didn’t contemplate what the future might hold, because the future wasn’t guaranteed regardless. He’d take each day as it came and feel grateful.

  Being with them always felt like home.

  Family.

  After about twenty minutes, Landry moved them to the living room, where Cris took over putting Skye through formal poses while Landry had to deal with a serious issue that had cropped up with work out in California.

  Bob’s mind wandered. Six weeks ago, the night of Axel’s freak-out at Venture, Tilly had put Bob into formal protocols at the very start and ordered him to remain silent and not speak to Axel, or anyone else, for that matter. Only Skye during aftercare, or herself. Later, in the car on their way home, she finally gave him permission to freely vent.

  “Does he not understand what he has with her?” he asked. “It’s not like she’s poly and wants to go sleep around on him. Why is this so hard for him to grasp?”

  Then she smirked. “Like your ex-wife?”

  He blew out an aggravated breath. “That was my fault, mostly. I’ll own that. I didn’t communicate my needs to her early on. I’ll admit it. I put expectations on her without talking to her about them first. I was young and stupid.”

  “Why are you so pissed off about this?” But her tone sounded light, like she already knew the answer.

  “Because Skye was upset.”

  “Hmm, try again, sweetie.”

  “He acted like a dumbass! Why didn’t he do her aftercare? He left her.”

  “Yes, but that’s not why you’re pissed off. You’re pissed off because he pissed me off, aren’t you?”

  He’d been about to object that she was wrong when it slammed him between the eyes that she was absolutely right.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he mumbled.

  She patted him on the thigh and left her hand resting there. “You’re adorable, sweetie. You know that?”

  “Because I got pissed off, Ma’am?”

  “Because you and Cris are a lot alike. It doesn’t matter he was my Master and you’re my boy. You both have that protective streak in you. Makes a girl feel wanted.”

  He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he settled for, “Yes, Ma’am.”

  She patted his thigh again. “I’m glad you don’t hate him now. He really likes you. They b
oth do.”

  “I like them, too. But how does Skye fit into what we have?”

  Now Tilly turned her head toward him again. “Do you need to safeword?”

  “No, Ma’am. I don’t think I need to, do I? This will only be temporary with her, right?”

  Her hand remained on his thigh, stroking. Not sexually, but lovingly. “Temporary. We’re already over capacity on submissives in our household, and Landry made it perfectly clear he’s not willing to give you up, I’m obviously happy with the status quo, and Cris is having a blast. In other words, don’t worry, sweetie.”

  “Landry said…wait, he did?”

  “The sadist is crazy about you, sweetie. Not just for the kinky reasons. You’re family. Skye is sweet, but she’s just a friend. The goal is to train her dumbass boyfriend to be a Dom. Well, I think he’s got it in him to be a Dom. We need to help him figure out what kind of Dom he wants to be, and how to get him there. We’re kinky facilitators.”

  He laughed. “Is that a thing?”

  “It is now.” She sighed. “I hope you weren’t planning on going to sleep early tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “Ohhh, the sadist wants to play when we get home.” She caressed his thigh. “Truth be told, now I have a little aggravation I’d like to vent on that gorgeous ass of yours, too.”

  Warmth filled him. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  He couldn’t help the excited shiver that raced through him. Cris was out of town that night. KC would be asleep when they returned to Tilly’s, meaning the adults could play.

  Lately, Landry’s favorite game was to follow a scene by jerking himself off, and then jerking Bob off while he cleaned up Landry’s cum. Usually while sucking it off a dildo. If Cris was around, he got to contribute to the cause, too.

  The sadist’s plan to condition Bob to get horny from giving oral was working. Bob couldn’t so much as think about that without getting hard as a rock.

  Landry had definitely conditioned him to get horny over the taste of cum.

  Which had, of course, also been one of Landry’s goals.