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Guilt pricked at her, a sharp twinge in her chest. “I’m sorry, I should have called. To check on you both, at least. I’m a horrible friend.”
The bruise around Shannon’s eye had faded, or at least enough for her to cover it with makeup. MaryAnn wasn’t sure which. But every time she looked at her friend, it was just one more reminder of the damage she’d caused.
“You are not a horrible friend,” Olivia cut in with a fierce scowl. “Don’t make me tell your Daddy on you.”
“Tell him what?” She hadn’t even done anything wrong! And wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of subbie code that said they didn’t tell on each other? If not, there should be.
“That you’re saying mean things about his babygirl,” Olivia answered with an indignant sniff. “If he’s anything likeourDaddies, that won’t go over very well.”
“Oh. Ah, no, no it would not.” Feeling flushed, MaryAnn took a long sip of wine, both to stall a bit and to give herself a bit of liquid courage.
“Okay, that’s plenty of time and wine to get yourself situated.” Leaning forward, Shannon grinned, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. “Now,spill.”
“There’s not really anything to tell.” Well, it would have been more accurate to say there was so much to tell she wasn’t really sure where to begin.
“Uh huh.” The eye roll Shannon gave her clearly said she didn’t believe MaryAnn’s attempt at deflection. “So you’ve been shacking up with one of the most gorgeous men on the East Coast for weeks now and you’re just, what? Friends?”
“No, of course not. We’re… you know.” Sweet Jesus, how wasthisthe most embarrassing thing she’d ever had to say out loud? “In a relationship.”
“We know that.” It was Olivia’s turn to fill MaryAnn’s glass. “Obviously you need more wine. Why don’t we start with what we know and you can fill in the blanks.”
“Umm, okay. Sure.” Whatever kept her from having to actually talk, MaryAnn was completely on board for.
Holding up a hand, Shannon ticked off her fingers. “We know you’re basically living with him. We know he’s your Daddy. We assume you’re fucking him.” She paused and waited for MaryAnn’s nod of agreement before continuing. “We also assume you got yourself in huge fucking trouble by being a complete dumbass and coming alone, unarmed, to face down your serial killer ex-boyfriend. All correct so far?”
“Yes.” The word came out as a squeak, just making the whole situation even more humiliating.
“So.” Shannon waved her own wine glass at MaryAnn. “Tell us about it.”
“About what?” Surely, she didn’t mean…
“Jesus, woman. Your punishment! What happened? What did he do?”
“You’ll have to excuse her.” Olivia rolled her eyes again. “Our Daddies are evil, evil men who are making us wait for our punishments, so she’s going a bit crazy.”
“I am not.” Shannon’s pout somehow looked completely natural and also totally out of place on her stunning face. “Okay, yes I am. So have pity on me, let me live vicariously through you until our sadists finally get tired of torturing us.”
“Oh. Umm. Is that allowed?” Part of her wanted to share, to finally be able to have juicy secrets with her best girlfriends, but not if she was going to be hurting Dean by doing so.
“Did your Daddy say it’s not allowed?” Shannon asked, her sly tone making it clear she knew she’d found a loophole.
“Well… no.”
“Then it’s allowed. So spill, before I lose my fucking mind.”
With another glance over her shoulder, MaryAnn leaned in. The wine was already making her head swim a bit. Or perhaps that was the excitement over finally being able to tell someone about all the wonderful, painful, lovely, humiliating things she’d experienced at Dean’s hands. “Well, he spanked me.”
“Yeah, we figured that.” Sympathy flared in Shannon’s eyes. “With what? From what we heard, he was pretty determined to make sure you didn’t do anything like that ever again.”
“Umm. Just his hand. But he has a hard hand!” she rushed to add when Shannon frowned.
“Uh huh. They all have hard hands. Was that it? Just a spanking?”
“No. Then he gave me a whole list of rules to follow as his babygirl, and I had to write them out ten times.”
“Ugh, writing punishments are the worst.” Olivia’s nose wrinkled. “That sucks.”
“That’s not the worst of it.” Getting into the rhythm now, MaryAnn shook her head woefully. “He has this mat, like, you know the welcome mats with the really scratchy surface so you can wipe your shoes on them?”
