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“Well, don’t go to prison for me,” I whispered, my voice sounding thick with tears. “Besides, I’m going to kill him myself. I’ll be the one who gets to wear the orange jumpsuit.”
The sound of the back door banging caught my attention, and then Robert was there in his tiny running shorts and white tank. His long, dark arms wrapped around me from the back.
“If this baby needs so much love, I figure he needs mine too,” he said, his voice giggling in my ear. “Let’s love him to death, Barry.”
“I think he’d like that too much,” Barry responded, starting to let me go.
I grabbed him back. “No, I wouldn’t. I’d hate it. I’d hate itso much.Stop.”
It was a lie. I felt so safe squeezed between these two men, the whisper of a breeze racing around our bodies, and the early autumn sun pouring down on us while the oak tree creaked overhead.
Swaying in a three-way hug, I closed my eyes and, for a moment, let myself have what I used to crave. Love.
Because soon I hoped to get hated on the way I deserved.
Chapter Five
‡
October 1991
Minty
It’d been fivedays since I went to Luke’s house with the contracts and endured the clothespin torment, slept on his sofa, and made him pancakes in the morning like some kind of whipped pussy.
I wasn’t whipped—at least not yet, though I hoped to be soon—but while I waited, I’d already decided if Luke couldn’t handle me, I’d just go back to Kyle. I could feel the urge to get under that man again like a rope around my balls pulling me toward danger, toward pain and power.
God, I loved that power. The power to make Kyle come.
Earlier, I’d taken my time getting ready, and I had to reapply my pink lipstick three times due to my shaking hands. Now I wore a green skirt that swung loose around my knees—the easier to access my junk and ass—and a pink blouse that I’d picked up while out shopping with my friend Jennifer from Psychology class.
I’d chosen it so I’d look sweet and feminine, as well as to challenge Luke’s ability to hurt me the way I needed. If I looked soft and pretty, would he go easy on me? We’d find out.
I finished the outfit off with white Keds and socks with pom-poms at the ankles in an attempt to feel cute and young and innocent. The dirtiest part of me still longed to feel innocent again.
Right now, though, I felt anything but. I felt evil and horny with sweaty palms and a shivery gut.
“You’ve seen the house,” Luke was saying. “Or at least the main floor.” He waved toward a flight up. “Those go to the master bedroom and bathroom. It’s that dormer you can see from the front yard.”
I didn’t care about his bedroom or the layout of the house. I’d been wrestling anxiety and hope, and an awareness that I was a perverted demon all day long, and this cozy crap was the last thing I needed.
“I don’t typically take play partners up there, but—”
Washenervous? Washerambling? Shit.
“—I like everyone to understand the arrangement of the—”
“Sir,” I interrupted. “That’s all fine. I don’t really give a shit where your bedroom is. I just want to know: where are we doing this?”
A strangeness descended over Luke’s features. It wasn’t a dark expression, not quite cruel either, but itwaspredatory. As if he were taking stock of me and seeing every last weakness he could exploit, and I’d just handed him a new one.
“In a hurry to get your ass beat?”
“Yes.” I gulped at the flash in his eyes. “Yes, Sir, I mean. Yeah.”
He took me in for a long, swollen moment. My heart pounded. I thought I’d made a mistake, that he’d deny me.
Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, nodded, and muttered, “Fine then. Strip. Now. Let me see what’s on offer.”
