Not as it had been.
But these people weren’t just Doms and subs she saw occasionally at her sex club.
They were her friends.
She knew what Aryas wanted to discuss. He owned the Bee’s Honey not simply as a lucrative business venture but because he was the life. A super-snuggly, could-be-stern Dominant who wasn’t defined by the fact he liked to spank his babies’ asses while he had a vibrator working inside them. He was also a man who was committed to the mission of giving those like him and the people who liked to be played with somewhere not only safe but luxurious to go where they could be who they were at the same time be with others who understood them.
He would try to convince her to come back to the club.
That, she wasn’t going to do.
He would also try to convince her to come back to her circle of friends.
That, she was going to do.
The one good thing—when your boyfriend and sex slave loses his mind during a scene, beats the utter snot out of you and you check out of life—was that you had to check into something else.
And Evangeline had checked into work.
She’d always worked hard. You couldn’t mess around when you were a real estate agent. A sale never just fell into your lap. You had to make it happen.
But she’d had a decent work/life balance.
Not for the last year.
The last year she’d worked her behind off.
And so doing, she wasn’t set up. She was set up. Credit cards paid off. Vacation fund (since she hadn’t taken one in over a year) out the roof. Savings more than healthy. Max contribution to her IRA. And brokerage accounts going strong. New roof and everything in her house that needed fixing had been fixed. And she’d recruited so many clients, and kicked so much butt selling houses, they referred her to all of their friends in a way that she knew they’d refer her to their grandchildren.
All this so in thirty-five years she was going to retire, totally alone (and she was fine with that) but high on the hog. Cruises. A pimped-out pad. Cooking gourmet meals with every ingredient bought from AJ’s Fine Foods. And not even a blink at dropping a load at Scottsdale Fashion Square.
That was her plan and she was going to keep working at it.
She just had to add her friends back into that mix.
The only things the last year she’d taken time out of work to do for herself were getting biweekly mani/pedis and massages, monthly facials, and carving out time to go to the gym. She’d dropped a ton of weight (especially for her on her small frame) when Kevin lost it on her. But she’d sorted that out since any free time she had that she wasn’t working, getting a mani/pedi, massage, facial, or going to the gym, she was cooking.
So she’d gained it back.
C’est la vie.
She had no one to impress.
And she never again would.
Of course, none of these things offered her what she got from working a sub in a playroom at the Honey, or the one she’d been meticulously setting up in the studio at her house until it all went down with Kevin, or, if she’d let that sub into her life (and heart), in her bed in her home. But she’d have to make do.
She had been that girl who liked the feel of a crop in her hand and the results she got when she used it. She’d been that girl since those kinds of thoughts could enter her mind in a way she could try to process them. She’d never had an issue with being that girl. It was just who she was.
But that wasn’t the girl she was going to be anymore.
Not after Kevin.
She opened the door to the Honey, and in her current frame of mind, the hit of walking into the luxe foyer that was no less attractive lit brightly with daylight wasn’t as big of a hit as she’d prepared for it to be.
It helped that Aryas was walking down the back hall behind the reception area toward her.
She smiled.
He was a big, beautiful black man. Huge. He towered over almost everyone.
As she moved to him and he continued to move to her, neither stopping, he did what he always did even if she was in four-inch, black suede Alexander Wang pumps.
When he pulled her into his arms, her cheek hit his pectorals and he dwarfed her.
Considering her height, it was not surprising her father and two brothers weren’t much taller than her (and her mother was an inch shorter).
So she’d always loved getting a hug from Aryas, being engulfed in his strong arms, pulled to his big, warm, hard body, not feeling tiny and vulnerable, feeling safe and loved.
Kevin had not been a big guy. She wasn’t into big guys. But considering what happened, it was good Kevin had been even smaller, leaner, only five foot seven, a great body he maintained, but he wasn’t a powerhouse.
Aryas was a powerhouse in all its forms.
But right then, getting her first hug from him since the one he gave her two days after it happened, assuring her all had been “taken care of,” she was all about the physicality of his powerhouse.
And as she used to do, she let herself drink it in.
He pulled back slightly, not letting her go, and dug his chin in his neck to look down at her.
“Got a nonfat iced mocha waiting for you in the office, my sweet,” he shared.
He so knew her and not just the way she played.
In life.
Her smile got bigger and she hid the hurt inside it caused when she watched him take in her smile and then watched relief flood his face.
She’d done that to him.
She’d made him feel to blame when he wasn’t.
She’d taken too long to show him she was all right.
“You know all my vices,” she teased.
He finally gave her a big grin. “That I do.” He let her go only to take her hand. “Come on. Let’s sit. Those pretty shoes aren’t for standing.”
She could run a marathon in these shoes and he likely knew it.
He was just a gentleman.
That was part of what Aryas was too.
He had her in his office, had gone to the gleaming wood console at the back wall to open a hidden refrigerator to get her mocha, getting his own slim can of lime Perrier, and he sat in the expensive black suede chair beside her, not opposite her behind his desk.
He popped the cap of his drink as she took a sip from the straw of hers and he gave her a top-to-toe in her chair.
“Lookin’ good,” he stated.
“Feeling good,” she told him, her lips still curved up.
His face got serious.
She didn’t like the look of it and immediately leaned toward him, reaching out a hand to curl her fingers around his knee.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“Baby—” he began.
She shook her head and squeezed his knee. “I’m all right. I threw myself into work, which is good, I needed it and you know me.” She wiggled a foot, sending him another smile. “I like my shoes. And handbags. And the entirety of the Nordstrom accessories department. More money never hurt anyone.”
“Evange—”
She gave his knee another squeeze as her smile faded. “I left it too long. I got involved in work, in life, and I just left it too long. And the longer I left it, the deeper I got into what my life had become, it became harder to find ways to reconnect and that’s on me. It isn’t on you. Everyone tried to pull me back in and it just became habit, being out. I did that. I didn’t even want to but I did it. And I’m so glad you called, Ary, because it’s time I put a stop to that and you gave me an excuse.” She offered him another smile, this one smaller, taking her hand from his knee and sitting back. “And I’m starting with you.”
“Honored, sweetheart,” he murmured.
“You shouldn’t be. You’re my man. Of course I’d start with you,” she returned, injecting a lilt into her voice in hopes of lightening the atmosphere.
“You need to call Leigh. Felicia. Mira. Things are happening.”
That didn’t sound good.
r />
“What things?” she asked.
“Penn and Shane are getting married.”
That got him another full smile as she thought of the Master and his slave whom she knew in and out of the life, how long they’d been together, how good they were together in all ways and how happy she was for them.
“I know. Shane texted. I texted back but haven’t connected other than that. I’ll give him a call. It’s so exciting!” She ended that with a genuine jump in her seat because she loved Penn and Shane, she was thrilled for them and it was about time they made it official.
“Leigh is living with her man, Evangeline,” Aryas continued. “His name is Olly. Solid guy. Yin to her yang. She’s all class, as you know. He looks like a bouncer at a bar run by the Irish mafia. But what he is, is a firefighter. She’s deep with him, over the moon to be right there. For his part, she lights his world and he doesn’t hide it.”
Evangeline couldn’t be happier for her friend. Amélie had been looking for that and Evangeline was glad she’d found it, mostly because she was a good woman, a good friend—she deserved it.
“I know that too, Ary. Leigh told me. Left a few voicemails. I e-mailed her back. Also Felicia, Mira, Romy, they all told me, and I could go on. Everyone’s thrilled for her so I look forward to meeting him.”
“Mira’s also got a man,” he continued.
She shifted, suddenly ill at ease.
Life went on.
And she was missing it.
Deliberately.
Oh yes, she had to pull herself together.
“I know, honey,” she said softly. “Mira called. Left a voicemail. I’ve been meaning to call her and I will. Right after this. She and her man are both putting their houses up for sale and they’re buying something together. They want me to list them and show them some places. I need to get on that for them.”
In her defense, something she wasn’t going to share with Aryas because it was lame, Mira had only called about this three days ago.
But in her job, three days was two and three-quarter days too long for her to return the call.
“Sixx is back,” he shared.
“I heard that too,” she replied uncomfortably.
Aryas tipped his head slightly to the side, his gaze on her becoming intent.
“You here, does that mean you’re coming back to the club?”
She straightened, shaking her head slightly, and lifted her plastic cup to take a sip before she answered.
“I don’t think that’s something that’s going to be in the future for me, Ary.”
“Evangeline—”
She lifted a hand but lowered her voice. “Love you. Love that you’re looking out for me. Feel like an idiot and worse, a jerk for going into my head then falling into work and not reaching out to everyone. Sorting myself out. And I’ll be reconnecting, with everyone. But that…,” she shook her head, “that part of my life is behind me.”
Arya’s face turned hard with concern. “That part of your life is part of you.”
“Ary, I messed up.”
“Leenie, he was messed up. That was not on you.”
“I don’t know that for certain. What I do know for certain is that it wasn’t on you.”
His face closed down.
“It wasn’t, Ary,” she stressed.
“I should have read it on him,” he returned. “Fuck, I should have smelled it on him.”
“I didn’t and I spent much more time with him.”
“You had other things on your mind.”
She did.
Love.
Marriage.
Babies.
A life together.
God, she’d been such a fool.
“I think he surprised everyone,” she told Aryas.
“He did. Everyone. But it’s my job not to be surprised.”
“Ary—”
This time, he lifted a hand.
And he was better at it.
She snapped her mouth shut.
Aryas spoke.
“Babe, you gotta let me carry that load because no way in fuck there’s a thing you can say or do to make me let it go. You walk in that front door, you depend not on the person you’re with to keep you safe, you depend on me to keep you safe. You’re not answering an ad and taking the risk with whoever shows. You’re not at the Bolt and needing to worry about how they clean or even if they clean up after the ones who went before you. The Honey is your sanctuary. And it’s on me to provide that.”
Evangeline didn’t reply so Aryas kept speaking.
“He’s taken care of. I told you that and it’s true. He won’t hurt you again. He won’t hurt anyone again. I saw to that. That’s done. But I gotta live with the blame so I stay sharp in order to make certain it doesn’t happen again.”
Evangeline had no idea how Aryas had taken care of Kevin. She held some guilt about this too. Kevin clearly needed help.
It was just, with what he’d done to her, she’d made the decision that it wasn’t her that should help.
She doubted Aryas got him into counseling.
That said, if ever there was a time to pull your own self together, examine what was going on in your head—beating the crap out of, not your Mistress, but your girlfriend, was that time.
In other words, at least she’d forgiven herself for not assisting in that and doing so, had allowed herself to move on and heal. After Kevin did what he’d done, she knew that whatever happened to him was not her concern.
She’d been falling in love with him. Thinking about a future with him. And he’d been right there with her. So she couldn’t stop herself from hoping he’d gotten help and feeling some remorse that she hadn’t stepped up to be a part of that.
But the first time his fist connected with her face, he lost the right to expect her to be there for him.
And she gained the right for that to be okay.
“I’ll give you that,” she said softly.
“Obliged,” he replied with a quirk to his lips. But immediately after that, he pushed, “Be more obliged, you came back to the club.”
She sighed and began, “Aryas—”
“Get you don’t want to and won’t push it. Hope you do. Hope you get over it. Hope you come back to us and to you in all the ways you should do that. You can’t find that in you…” He shrugged but didn’t stop coming at her. “That’s the way it is. I can’t push that. You gotta find that in you. But connecting with you. Seeing where you’re at. Getting you to come back to the family. Taking your pulse is only part of why I asked you here. I also got another reason.”
Evangeline took another sip of her coffee before she asked, “And what’s that?”
“Got a sub for you.”
She blinked and her stomach pitched.
“Sorry?” she queried.
“Perfect for you. No strings. No boundaries. This guy is not looking to connect. He’s not looking for a relationship. Hell, sheer number of Dommes he goes through, you might only get one crack at him before he vanishes from your life. But at least you’ll get off the way you like it that one time. And if you can keep him around awhile, you might have some fun, break yourself back in, give yourself what you need, without any baggage.”
Um.
Whoa.
That all sounded way too good to be true.
But still.
“I’m not … I don’t think…” She swallowed. “I’m not ready for that, and to be honest, Ary, I’m not sure I’ll ever go back there.”
“Fool thing to think, more fool thing to do,” Aryas returned instantly. “Especially when you got a chance to have a go with this guy. You got a shot at a guy like this guy, you should take it. And I mean that for you. Only for you. For where you’re at. For what I suspect you need about now. He doesn’t want to hold hands. He doesn’t want to share a drink in the hunting ground. He doesn’t want you to give him your number or stake your claim on him in the club or anywhere. He wants you to get him off and he’s open to
anything you wanna do to pull that off.”
He’s open to anything you wanna do to pull that off.
She fought squirming in her seat and it made her angry.
This was not a part of her life anymore.
This was something she was never going back to.
She’d said that plainly to Aryas and he shouldn’t push it.
“Aryas, please, seriously. I think I learned my lesson with Kevin and Damian.”
“Damian’s back too.”
Evangeline went still.
“He wants to see you,” Aryas went on.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
She hadn’t heard that.
“Couple of days ago, he contacted me to share he was back in Phoenix,” he carried on, “and he’d be coming back to the club. He didn’t want to do that until he saw you. Spoke to you. Made sure you’re all right.”
Evangeline said nothing but what she thought was, she should talk to him. Damian had sent flowers every week for three months after it happened. He’d shown up at her door half a dozen times, three of which she’d let him in to talk to him, show him she was okay, the swelling was down, the bruises were healing, she was healing.
The other three times, she’d hid like a coward and not answered the door.
His e-mails often went unanswered. She’d answer enough not to seem like a loser.
She needed to reconnect with him too. He didn’t need to be let off the hook. Damian didn’t play it that way. He never expressed guilt for what happened (which was good, because he didn’t hold any), just concern for her.
Her eyes dropped to Aryas’s thigh and she murmured, “I shouldn’t have let Damian touch me.”
“That was the scene Kevin wanted.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “I shouldn’t have let him have it.”
“It had nothing to do with you or Damian. It was fucking Kevin and only Kevin.” He leaned across the arm of his chair toward her. “Damian doesn’t hold guilt. Damian doesn’t feel the burden of blame. Damian has his shit together and he knows takin’ that motherfucker’s ass and eating your pussy and making him watch had nothing to do with that asshole losing his mind. You were all-in a controlled situation where Kevin held the control. He was not gagged. He had a safe word you both knew. He could have ended that scene at any minute. He didn’t end it. He got off on it. You gave him what he wanted, what the motherfucker asked for. That isn’t on you. That isn’t on Damian. It’s partially on me because I didn’t see he had it in him to have that kind of break. But don’t lay that shit on yourself, Evangeline. And don’t lay it on Damian.”