said, meeting my eyes. “She was there for me at first, for maybe a couple of months. And then she took off when I was having a rough time and I could’ve really used someone in my corner. I thought she would be it. But I guess that was unfair. Our relationship was new and wasn’t that tight to begin with. I needed someone and she needed out from under the burden I’d become.”
“I’m sorry, Cary.”
“Yeah. Me, too, in a way. Not because she left. Obviously, she wasn’t meant to stay. But it was pretty painful. Thing was… pretty much everything was painful at that point.”
“I can imagine.”
“Anyway, after that, I didn’t exactly go out much. I kinda locked myself away and shut everyone out so I could try to cope on my own. Didn’t always work out so well. I had other friends who flaked out, disappeared. Said shit about me in the media. People who were upset about Gabe’s death and needed someone to lash out at, I guess. For some people, I was it. I guess it’s easiest to kick a guy when he’s down.”
He hesitated again and I squeezed his hand, letting him know I was here. I was listening.
I couldn’t even imagine the pain of what he’d been through, and I was pretty sure I hadn’t heard the half of it yet.
The fact that he was trusting me with this… I knew this was huge.
“But anyway,” he went on, “here I am. I’m okay, most days. But I never exactly got out there dating again. I didn’t even care for a long while, because the medications my doctors put me on always fucked with my sex drive anyway. My dick literally stopped working. I kept switching drugs trying to find one that would help with the anxiety but not mess me up in other ways, including sexual. Then eventually I went off all the medications because I couldn’t take the side effects anymore. And my sex drive came back. And then Dean told me about the club. He said he knew some people who had memberships, thought it might be good for me since I was alone. And I decided to go check it out, because I figured for someone like me, it was the only way I could see a woman with zero strings attached, and keep it discreet and impersonal and still be able to stand myself in the morning.”
When he explained it like that… it actually made a lot of sense. Even though it sounded kind of sad.
I wasn’t even totally sure if I wanted to ask, but… I was morbidly curious. “What was it like?”
“It was everything I asked for it to be,” he said. “You pay an insanely high membership fee and that’s what they do. They provide you with what you want.”
“And what did you want?”
“Just something quick and uncomplicated. I wanted someone who’d do what I said, no questions asked. And who’d actually enjoy it. I didn’t want to pay someone who was just there for the money. People go to the club because they have a kink and the club is the way they scratch it.”
“Okay… And what was your kink?”
His eyes held mine. “I’ll give you one guess.”
“Hmm.” I considered the sexual encounters I’d had with him so far, and there was definitely a common theme.
Giving me orders like Don’t move when he went down on me.
Holding me down by the throat while we both came.
The general bossiness that shone through, even when he was being gentle.
“That thing you said about telling someone what to do?” I guessed.
“Yeah, that would be it.”
“And the women you were with…?”
“There were only a few,” he said. “I saw a few, at first, and then I just stuck with one because I didn’t like the idea of seeing a bunch of different people when I was there. I didn’t want to have to get used to someone new again and again. So I arranged to only be with her. I wanted something predictable and the same every time.”
“So you could feel in control of it.”
“Yeah.”
“And what was her kink?” I brushed my fingertips down the side of his face. “Beautiful rock stars?”
“Her kink was being told what to do.”
“Oh.” I considered that. “Okay… Excuse my cynicism here, but if you’re paying her and she’s being told what to do… how do you know she’s really enjoying it? I mean, how is that different than any other prostitution situation?”
“She wasn’t a