Page 30 of Mischief Mayhem
“When Trojan died, I made a promise over his grave that I’d do the living for both of us, that I’d settle down and get my shit together.” He shrugged and glanced at the floor, like looking me in the eye while he continued was too much, even for someone as playful and outgoing as him. “I went full time at the garage. I’m taking care of my mom and saving money so I can move out of Saint’s house.” Then, he paused and gazed back up at me, holding my stare while he said the next part. “I stopped fucking around. I want people to treat me a certain way for me, not because they want something from me.”
“I’m happy for you, Hollywood,” I continued, giving him an encouraging smile. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re sitting at my table, asking me to turn your ass pink.”
His answering smile nearly blinded me, and I had to steel myself against the girlish tickle that twisted through my stomach. He was too damned cute.
“When I saw you up on stage at the Beacon”—he shook his head and blew out a breath, challenge sparkling behind his glittery gaze as he went on—“I’d never wanted to be bent over a spanking bench more in my life. You’re magnificent, and I think we could make art. I think you have the right idea about what this is . . . and what it isn’t.”
Sure, I supposed that was accurate. The hang-arounds wanted to fuck him because of his reputation, because they thought of him like a piece of meat. Me, I didn’t even like him. If I did this, it would be because he’d asked me to. I could understand that.
I held his stare for a moment more before allowing myself to smile and respond. “Okay.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Why are you agreeing to do this . . . with me?”
I considered how to answer him, almost blurting out the first thing on my mind as the conversation with Selene rushed back to me. I wanted him to take better care of himself. I didn’t want him to think of himself as trash, if he truly did. He’d saved my life, and I feared she might be right, that he might be on a martyr collision course with fate. Perhaps I could stop it. Perhaps I could take this bullet for him and remind him how it felt to be alive. Of course, I couldn’t lead with that and scare him away.
“You deserve someone who knows what they’re doing,” I answered, which wasn’t too far from the truth. “As you said, I know my way around a whip.”
He chuckled, seemingly pleased with that answer.
“But you were right,” I said, ignoring the burn in my cheeks. “It does turn me on to see you get on your knees, knowing I’m the one that put you there.” It aroused me more than I would ever admit to anyone else. “What about your no-sex streak?”
“I only told the hang-arounds that so they’d leave me alone.” He laughed through his nose. “It backfired on me though since now they’re all in a pool about when I’ll break.”
“Fucking vultures.” I hated them even more. “We’ll keep it going tonight, but we can talk about ending it soon, if you want. When was the last time you had sex with someone else?”
He shifted again, clearing his throat before taking a sip of water. “Define sex.”
“Someone else stimulating your cock, no matter the method.”
“Eight months?” He winced while he thought about his answer. “The night before KC’s wedding.” His cheeks flushed, and he dropped his gaze to the floor, taking another drink of water. Admittedly, it had been longer for me, but I wouldn’t tell him that. Like I said, kink didn’t have to be about sex, and most of my clients were happy to take a beating from me and go to their partners for aftercare. I hadn’t allowed anyone to penetrate me in over a year. “You?”
I took a deep breath before telling him the truth. “Since I was in Manhattan.”
“Holy shit, really?” He whistled. “Why so long?”
“You’ve met my brothers, right?”
“Yeah, but you and Candy . . .”
“It was never about sex.” I met his gaze, warmth dripping through my chest at how sincere he could be. Candy and I were friends, and she had agreed to be my submissive in order to put on a good show. But she didn’t regularly participate in kink, and since that night, she’d found a girlfriend to do those things with instead of me. “You said you were with a Madam before, right? How long did that go on?”
He shrugged and shook his head, waving me off like it was nothing. “A few months. She was married, so when he found out, she ended it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, hearing what he didn’t say. He’d enjoyed himself, especially when she paddled him and sent him on a long bike ride, and he had been nothing more than a side piece for her. “That must have hurt.”
His focus came to me, like he couldn’t believe I’d said that. “Thank you.”
“Speaking of my brothers,” I went on, “this is none of their business.”
Hollywood leaned his head back and nodded solemnly. “I agree.”
“If they ask, that’s what we’ll tell them.”
He hummed out a pleased noise, half moan, half laugh.
“And I don’t share.” I stood, preparing to head down to my dungeon to get into the right headspace. “Ever. Don’t let me catch you with someone else, Hollywood, not while this is going on.”
“That won’t happen,” he said. “I swear it.”