He worked.
He slept.
He sometimes met Olly for a beer at PVT and sometimes Barclay joined them.
And now, for as long as it took for her not to get totally torn up when he took off on her, he spent time with Evangeline.
“Uh…,” Barclay mumbled before he suggested, “The club?”
No way was he going to the Bolt.
Unless he was on a job, Branch didn’t get near Clay’s club, the Bolt. Too many assholes who went to Pounds hit the Bolt and Branch didn’t need that hassle.
He also didn’t need anyone overhearing what they were talking about, no matter where they were.
“My place,” he said.
Barclay’s voice was higher when he asked, “Your place?”
His reaction was not a surprise. Barclay had never been to his place. Olly had never been to his place. Aryas either. Except for Whitney and a few other Dommes he’d let work him, no one had ever been invited to his place.
He wondered briefly what Evangeline would think of his place.
This was brief because he knew she wouldn’t think much of it, not because she was that type of woman but because there wasn’t much to think about.
“My place,” he answered. “I’ll text you the address.”
“Uh, have I pissed someone off and you’re asking me for a beer at this unknown locale so you can put a bullet in my brain and then cut me into little pieces, fit me in a suitcase and carry me out to your truck in order to dump my body somewhere?”
“Fuck no,” Branch answered.
Hack up a body and put it in suitcases. Christ.
There were much better ways to make a body disappear.
“I’ll get the beer in. Five?” he continued.
“I can be there at five, Branch. Text me the address.”
“Right. Later.”
“Yeah, later, bro.”
Branch hung up.
Then Branch followed a moron for another hour, even though he had all the evidence he needed to present to Fred that one of his boys had gone dirty. Or, he was already filthy, working for Fred. So dirtier.
He was delaying. Fred was a slimeball of the variety that Branch didn’t feel the need to shower after he’d met with him, but instead be sandblasted.
But he wanted to get paid and he wanted off this job.
So he met with Fred, reported his findings, got paid and didn’t think for a second about the fact that the next time Fred called, there would be six jars on that shelf behind his desk.
He went to buy beer.
* * *
Barclay let out a low whistle as he looked around Branch’s condo.
“Brother, you gotta give me the number of your decorator. Extreme minimalism. Inspired,” he joked.
“Fuck off,” Branch muttered, opening the fridge, taking out a couple of beers and turning to Clay, who he saw leaning to the side, looking into Branch’s refrigerator and not hiding his curiosity.
Branch shut the fridge, turned and walked across the kitchen. He put the beers on the counter and slid the new bottle opener he’d bought at the grocery store his way. He uncapped the beers and slid one five inches across the countertop into Barclay’s hand.
“Good you got a toaster, Branch. Least that’s something. Though, nothing to put in it. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a fridge that empty in a pad where someone actually lives.” He was grinning at Branch. What he wasn’t done doing was giving Branch shit. “Or do you just plug your bionic parts in and the government scientists who turned you from human to badass figured out a way you could exist without basic nutrition?”
He needed food but Barclay still wasn’t far off.
He just gave his friend a look.
Barclay returned his look, his was amused, then he lifted the beer and took a deep tug on it.
He dropped his beer hand and when he did he didn’t look amused any longer.
He looked sober with hints at concern.
“Everything cool?”
No it was not.
The extent of that Branch was not going to have a dialogue with Clay about.
“Got a question I need to ask, just you and me,” Branch answered.
“Got that,” Barclay said quietly and then his lips quirked as his eyes slid to the sectional. “Figured it out when you invited me to your couchatoriam. I’m glad it’s you and not me putting that sad sectional out of its misery.”
Branch ignored the ribbing.
“How long you owned the Bolt?”
Barclay’s expression grew more alert even as he shrugged lightly and took another tug of his beer.
When he was done drinking, he answered, “Bought in when Josh and Pete were having troubles about four years ago. Why?”
“You know the scene,” Branch declared.
Barclay nodded. “Yeah, being a sex club owner as well as a practitioner, why?”
Branch took a tug of his own beer before he asked, “You don’t want to share, I get it. But between owning and practicing, you’ve seen a lot, yeah?”
“Done a lot too, Branch,” Barclay answered openly. “May not have Aryas Weathers’s money and style, but I own a scene because I’m into the scene and I wasn’t big on some of the places you could find out there to get what you need. The Bolt was a dump when I bought in. Now it might not be the Honey, but it’s a helluva lot better than it used to be.”
“All you’ve seen and done, you ever know a Domme go sub?” Branch asked suddenly.
Barclay’s body tensed up in surprise at the subject before he asked back, “Say that again?”
“You ever know a Domme, not a switch, go sub?” Branch repeated, then added, “During a scene.”
His gaze watchful, his tone quiet and hesitant, he asked, “You tellin’ me you went sub, brother?”
Branch stared at him.
Olly told Branch he talked openly about a variety of shit with Barclay. And Olly talked openly with Branch about a variety of shit too. The way they enjoyed getting off wasn’t the only topic of conversation, but Ol didn’t shy away from it, especially when he was trying to push Branch into finding something like what he had.
But when they were all three together, none of them talked about it. Branch only knew Barclay was in the life beyond owning a sex club because, before he knew the man personally, he’d seen him hanging from his wrists, up on his toes, getting flogged while Branch was on a job, being vapor at the Bolt.
Barclay and Olly made mention of things when they were all together that vaguely had to do with the life, but nothing deep and nothing revealing.
Branch never talked much regardless, so he’d never said anything.
And it was good to know, in all of his openness, that Olly didn’t share when Branch wasn’t around.
But it was interesting Barclay, in his business, hadn’t read him.
It wasn’t like this wasn’t often mistaken, for instance, at a Pound. But Branch would guess some of those idiots didn’t even know who was president so they definitely couldn’t read on a fit, six-foot-two man he liked to have his ass spanked.
But Barclay was different.
“I’m a sub, man,” he said quietly.
Barclay blinked before his brows went up. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Branch confirmed.
“Didn’t call that one,” Barclay muttered before taking another tug of beer.
Branch didn’t have a shot at saying anything because, once Barclay was done swallowing, he went on.
“And your Domme went sub?”
Branch nodded. “Scene was intense. She’s talented. She’s got her style. She rocks it. But no sign she had that in her. And giving you the honesty, never went there myself.”
“But you … what?” Barclay prompted.
This was not where he’d wanted to go. What he and Evangeline shared was not anyone’s business, especially details to that. It was too personal. But more, what they had and the way they had it, it was too precious.
Though to
get what he needed, he had to give his friend something.
“Doing it vanilla, I top. Exclusively,” Branch told him, though he didn’t go on to say he hadn’t had that yet with the woman he was talking about, nor that he intended to have just that, especially after last night. He had a new need with Evangeline, the need to get more of her pussy. And for as long as he had her, he was going to find his times to get more of that sweetness as often as he could. “In a scene, I bottom. Exclusively. She took me somewhere I’ve never been, got to that point, I took over. And she got off on it.”
“Did you?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Barclay was now looking perplexed. “Sorry, bro, not sure I get it. You seem troubled. If you both got off—?”
Branch had to give him more, so he did.
“Evangeline had a sub snap on her. It was—”
“You’re seeing Evangeline?”
Branch shut his mouth and stared at Barclay.
Barclay correctly interpreted his stare. “I know her. Just met her recently. She’s yours?” His lips tipped up. “I mean, you’re hers?”
“Both,” Branch grunted.
At least for a while.
Barclay’s lips tipped higher. “Cool, Branch. She’s pretty. And she’s sweet. And she seems, from what little time I’ve spent with her, to have it together.”
Barclay knowing Angie, Branch was no longer comfortable having this conversation.
So he declared, “You know her, this chat is done.”
Barclay again looked perplexed. “Why?”
“I give you that part of me, my decision. She’s not here to make that decision so I’m not giving you that part of her.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Clay muttered.
Branch ignored that.
“So I guess I wasted your time.” He tipped his head to the bottle Barclay held on the counter. “But you can finish your beer.”
Another smile came from his friend. “Thanks, bro, but just to put your mind at ease and so this isn’t a waste of either of our time, you been hers awhile?”
To that, Branch just grunted, forming no words. Barclay could take that how he wanted.
He took it how he wanted, nodding. “Yeah, she cracked my whip, just hooked up with someone I dig a lot, I’d still consider it.” His expression turned pained. “And she had a sub snap?”
“Clay, I dig you came here because I asked and I dig that you’re obviously willing to help out but I already said we’re not going there.”
Barclay lifted his hand not wrapped around a beer. “Right. I get that. And it’s cool, you giving that to Evangeline.” He dropped his hand, and for one of the few times Branch had seen it do that, his mouth turned down. “But sucks, she had a sub snap on her.”
“Yeah, it does,” Branch agreed to that understatement, taking another swallow from his bottle.
Barclay wasn’t finished.
“But, just so this isn’t a bust for either of us, first, my advice is to talk to her about it. If you have concerns she’s messed up because a sub snapped and she likes being jacked around because that shook something loose, best way to know is to go in gentle and get her to share where she’s at.” His expression lightened even as his gaze grew more intense. “That said, Branch, I think that’s a leap. It says a lot about you and how you feel about her that you’re concerned after that happened to her. Thinking, though, this is more about you being seriously sensitive that your woman has that in her history and not so much about her twisting that history.”
His woman.
Branch was so caught on those two words, he said nothing, which was good with Clay because he wasn’t done.
“I may not have read sub on you and I’m not sure many people would think I should have my BDSM card taken away because you don’t exactly scream sub like Olly doesn’t, even if it happens a lot, men like you two swinging that way. But I do feel I got a good read on Evangeline and she seemed to me to have her shit tight so…”
He shrugged again, took another sip from his beer and looked into Branch’s eyes before he kept talking.
“Relationships on the whole I am no master at navigating. Add sex to the mix, shit can get messed up. Add our kind of sex to the mix, all sorts of things could get whacked. That said, I know women and Dommes who enjoy pushing their men or their subs’ buttons so they’ll lose it and master the situation,” he grinned, “for lack of a better word. Doesn’t make them no longer Dommes or make them women with something screwy going on in their heads. Just means the scene got out of control but in a good way. And truth of it is, that could have been precisely where she was leading it. However, you can’t know that unless you ask her.”
Barclay was right.
He couldn’t know unless he asked her.
He just hadn’t wanted to bring up Kevin. Not again. She seemed over it. In fact, it seemed like it was Branch who had helped her take the last steps to get over it (and since that felt too good, him being able to help her in that, that was another thing he refused to think about the last four days, and he’d succeeded in at least that).
But if she was over it, Branch wanted her to stay that way.
“It’s cool you give this much of a shit about her that you’d call me to try and look after her,” Barclay noted quietly.
Branch focused on him again. “You just met her or not, you said you got a read on her and your read is right. She has it together and she’s sweet.”
“Like that you have that, bud,” Barclay told him. “From what I know of her, like she has you. Woman like that deserves a good man in her life, just because she is who she is but especially because something awful like that went down with her. And already know, good man like you deserves a good woman.”
Branch made no response to that.
“But my new read is, you haven’t been in the life very long,” Barclay continued.
“That read would be wrong,” Branch told him and took another tug of his beer.
“So you’ve not had a Leigh.”
It took a lot but Branch schooled his features so he didn’t show that Clay’s words felt like a punch in the gut.
No, he hadn’t had a Leigh. A woman in his life who gave him everything he needed, leaving him free to breathe, and not only that, making him straight-up happy without hassle, pain and over a decade of guilt that he’d played a part in ending her life.
He had an Evangeline.
But he wouldn’t have her long.
“I have, in a way, but lost them. All of them,” Barclay shared. “Either me fucking it up. Or them. But, you know, when the life is part of life, anything can go anywhere. And if it’s good, like both of you getting something out of that change in roles, and the trust is there, that runs deep, maybe that just means she needs to switch it up every once in a while. Take you where you need to be to get something new and exciting that she needs. Or maybe she didn’t plan it out but just dug how it went so she went with it. And if you both got off, that could just be it, brother. So instead of it being a result of something horrible happening to her, it’s actually the opposite. She just trusts you.”
Clay grinned again and didn’t stop talking.
“Though, if you’ve been in the life awhile, I don’t have to tell you to be careful with that. You do it when she isn’t playing it that way, you might pay. Then again, maybe you’ll wanna go too far because that’s payment you like to make.”
Branch hoped that was it because what they’d had the night before was fucking amazing, for him, and Evangeline had made it clear it was the same for her too.
He wanted her to have amazing.
What he didn’t want to do was mess with her head any more than he already was, just being a weak, selfish motherfucker who was addicted to her smile.
“And you know,” Barclay kept talking, “says nothing about you either, you went for it. Just says you got good, she can take you to that place, you go over that edge, and you both like it that way. It’s just a sce
ne, and if you have good, they’re all different.”
He’d had a lot of not so good and he’d a lot of totally shit.
So he knew that was the truth.
Barclay’s smile went wired.
“Holy grail, Branch.” He reached out with his beer bottle and tapped the neck against Branch’s. “And as I mentioned earlier, I’ve met a woman that I’m thinking I might have found that with too. You, me and Olly all got the goods in all ways we want that, what with you having Evangeline and me finding a switch who’s got a way with a flog and likes the way I got with one too.”
So Barclay was a switch, giving and taking.
Branch hadn’t read that either, but then again, he didn’t put any effort into it. All the ways Barclay took it (or gave it) wasn’t of interest to him.
The man lifted his beer and did a salute.
“To us. My guess is, Olly gets down to the business of popping the question, and I’d put money on the fact that’s going to be soon, his best man will be Chad. But you and me’ll give him an alternate bachelor party that Chad doesn’t get to go to that Olly’ll like a whole lot more than getting shitfaced and watching strippers gyrate in G-strings. So I’m putting my bid in, things happen with my woman, you boys take care of that for me and you can count on me to take care of that for you.”
Branch didn’t get into the fact there would be no bachelor parties for him at a strip club or other. He didn’t need another friend breathing down his neck about how he should get his head straight when they had no clue he already had it straight. It was staying with Evangeline that was fucked up.
Branch lifted his bottle to return the salute before he put it to his lips but muttered around it, “Gotta admit, man, your idea of a bachelor party Ol would like kinda freaks me out.”
Barclay burst out laughing.
Branch almost grinned before he took a tug of his beer.
Then he did something he had no intention of doing.
But Barclay was solid. He was decent. And he’d helped out.
So he did it.
“Right, that’s done,” he stated then demanded, “tell me about your girl.”