12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2018 Page 9

  She knew he stood at the refrigerator with the door open, the cool air found her bare legs. She swore she felt his eyes watching her. She didn’t turn around. Would he be angry? Or would he be hurt? If either, how would that impact their relationship?

  “And?” he probed.

  “I’m taking it. I love working with him. It’s a great production, a wonderful opportunity.”

  A thud sounded and she knew he’d shoved the refrigerator door closed. “I assume it’s not local. I wasn’t aware you still had a desire to travel around and act.”

  She slapped the edge of the sink. “I knew you wouldn’t be supportive. I knew it,” she accused.

  His arm wrapped around her and he turned her to face him. “Whoa, whoa. Who said I’m not being supportive? I just didn’t know it was something you still were interested in. I didn’t discourage you. If it’s something you want to do, by all means, do it.” He smiled, gazing at her with love and support.

  Resting her forehead on his chest, she tried explaining something she, herself, didn’t understand. “I’m not really. It just presented itself, and I do want to do it.”

  Kissing the top of her head, he eased her mind. “Then you will. As long as you come back to me.”

  She nodded into his warm, bare chest – he wore only a pair of flannel pants that sat low on his hips. She ran her fingers in between the waistband and his skin. “Of course. I leave Sunday. It runs all next week, starting Tuesday. I’ll be back the following Sunday, Christmas Eve.”

  The coffee maker beeped. “Why don’t you pour us some coffee then come sit and talk with me? I’m going to take Josie her cereal.” Leaning back, he lowered his head and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

  Her knees weakened, recalling how he’d handled her the previous night. She wanted him to dominate her. She wanted him to acknowledge her as a professional and an independent woman. He did. So, what continued troubling her? She wanted it both ways, she had it, but didn’t trust it could continue?

  “Sure, but I have to leave soon and stop and see the dogs before work,” she advised.

  “Jana.” His hands went to her neck removing the collar she forgot she wore. Placing a finger under her chin he guided her eyes to his. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out what you needed, what we needed. I thought me backing off was what you wanted and needed. I know that I feel like we are back on track again. And from your response last night, you agree. The collar is ours to use behind closed doors when we want to. It’s for us, about us, and between us.”

  He appeared so much more relaxed than he had in months. His eyes were clear, the bright blue of them gleaming at her.

  “Yup. Me too.” But did she? Did men marry women that behaved the way and craved the things she did? He told her he loved her, but did he want a true commitment?

  Having a show on Friday night, she left Matt’s place that morning telling him she would stay at her house after and pack to leave from his place on Sunday. She had lots of preparations to make – arranging a dog sitter for one, although Matt asked her to let him keep them. After considering it, she thought it best to let her trusted neighbor do it. No need to put that added responsibility on Danielle and Matt. She assured him she didn’t want to burden anyone, no other reason.

  She did some Christmas shopping Saturday, intending to meet him after his shift and spend Sunday with him and Josie before her flight. After enduring hours of browsing aisles and aisles of toys for Josie, racks and shelves for gifts for her family, waiting in traffic, and dodging puddles as she ran in and out of stores, she drove onto the interstate heading towards Matt’s.

  Last year at about the same time, she’d gone to the adult club, Pillow Talk. She’d run into Matt there, he had taken a part-time security position over the holidays, and he administered her first spanking with a belt. She did love that belt. The two of them never went back to the club. They’d talked about it, but life got busy.

  Without thinking about it, she exited the interstate and drove to the inconspicuous establishment. It didn’t display a flashing neon sign. You had to be standing at the tinted glass doors to find the only indication displayed. In small white lettering, it read “Private Club. No one without a membership and no one under twenty-one years of age can enter Pillow Talk.” You couldn’t tell from the outside what went on inside. Upon entering, you encountered a stylish, tall, circular counter. You surrendered your license, keyed in your information at a computer at one of the side alcoves, accepting waivers, and paid. They gave you a membership card and buzzed you in.

  Her stomach fluttered like it did the first and only time she’d gone in. Sitting there and reminiscing, she decided to ask Matt to take her there when she returned. Matt had tapped into a part of her inclinations that she had never predicted. Back then they were still new and learning each other. Adding in the whole spanking, dom/sub aspect, it became too much for her. He sensed it, and he ceased introducing it.

  The girls’ weekend trip she had taken Memorial Day weekend had made matters worse. The women had ridiculed and demeaned the very idea of a woman engaging in those behaviors. Of course, they didn’t know Matt and Jana dabbled in it, but Jana became anxious and ashamed.

  Watching a few couples enter, she glanced at the digital clock on her dash. It showed nine-fifty. She wanted to be home when Matt got there, although he’d said he might be late tonight. Putting her foot on the brake, she put the car in park. Looking out over the steering wheel, her heart skipped a beat. She saw Matt strolling under the awning with a woman. Opening the entry door, he let the woman go in ahead of him. Jana squeezed the steering wheel until her fingers went numb. Her heart beat faster, then it missed a few. Why? How long? Her head pounded with her pulse, when she thought she had one again. Her chest and throat constricted until all she could manage was a howl. Wails erupted from her aching lungs.

  What did she do? Should she confront him? Did he think so little of her that he went behind her back? Did he need that dynamic in his life? Did he lie to her about everything?

  Grabbing her purse, she headed into the club. She had herself believing he didn’t want to marry her because she’d become disinterested in being his submissive, or maybe he knew how much she liked it and couldn’t imagine making that kind of woman his wife and a stepmother to Josie. Maybe she could find truth in some of that, even all of that, she didn’t know. He claimed to be good with it either way. Was it something he needed? She needed to know.

  It concerned her that she remembered Saturday nights as couples’ night. Reading the rules under the glass on the counter, she saw it stated specific days for single men. Women could attend any day. Jana tossed her card on the counter and the drop dead gorgeous redhead picked it up to scan. “You have three days before your membership expires. Would you like to renew—”

  “No, I don’t,” snapped Jana.

  The girl’s red lipsticked mouth puckered before she pressed the buzzer and Jana marched through. Viewing the various stages of dress and undress around the room, she glanced down at her own attire. Grey leggings, a peach peasant shirt, and flat ankle boots actually gave her the courage to persevere. It was her, who she was. Sure, she liked it a little rough in the bedroom, and delicious spankings, but not everyone needed to know that. She had found the only person she wanted to know that, and now she wanted answers.

  Stopping her as she started to enter the back rooms, the large, attractive man advised her she couldn’t be in that section dressed. He steered her to the locker room and pointed out the towels.

  She threw her items in a locker, slamming it shut. A couple watched her with puzzled stares until she jerked up a towel and wrapped it around her body.

  Jana sneered. “What?”

  They looked away.

  Grabbing her purse, she heard them say something about her having a problem and laughing.

  She wandered through the back area, at times allowing her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but with it being early, the club didn’t have
a large amount of patrons. She didn’t find him. Taking a seat in the area outside the private rooms, she waited to see if he came out. Only two doors were shut, and she hoped she didn’t sit there too long. Her stomach cramped, and she prayed she didn’t puke. She needed a drink. Damn. With it being a BYOB club that wouldn’t happen. The couple she saw in the locker room swayed by. The woman buckled over giggling as the man swatted her ass.

  Jana stood and approached them. She held out a twenty dollar bill. “I forgot the whole BYOB thing. Please let me buy a drink from you. I don’t care what it is.”

  The girl, close to Jana’s age, eyed her from head to toe. “We’re not looking to add another person.”

  It took a couple of seconds for it to register, but Jana stepped back, waving and crossing her hands in front of her. “Oh, no. No. I’m sorry. I’m only interested in a drink.”

  The woman looked to her guy and nodded.

  He offered, “We have some Wild Turkey. Be glad to give you a healthy shot.” He reached out for the cash.

  She happily gave it to him. Lucky for her, the bar adjoined the private room area, so she kept watch on the two occupied rooms. One couple emerged, but not Matt.

  “Hey, let’s all have a shot together first,” the man announced handing her a glass. The three of them toasted and threw back the warm, potent liquid. Jana didn’t drink often, and she never chose hard liquor. It burned and heated her from her throat to her stomach. A shiver started in her abdomen and ended in a solid shoulder shake. It gave her an instant rush of confidence.

  “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” She thanked the couple and took the tall, half-filled glass of the effective fluid with her. Moving back to sit and wait, her legs wobbled. The door opened before she got comfortable. Not Matt. Did she overlook him? Taking another gulp of her drink, she strolled through the back area and the front, dance area again. She didn’t see him anywhere. Then she remembered the club had a more elite, much more expensive side. She couldn’t imagine he’d paid for that membership, but he must have. Locating one of the several stunning hostesses, Jana inquired about the exclusive area, and luckily, the woman offered to give her a tour.

  Swiping her keycard, the long-legged lady led her into a plush entrance, impeccably decorated that opened up into several seating areas containing red velvet furniture and crystal chandeliers. An intricately carved bar ran the length of the whole right wall. Several men in suits sat on barstools smoking cigars and having a drink. Following along behind the guide, Jana saw open doors to rooms comparable to what small, comfortable hotels would offer with a large bed and a couple of armless occasional chairs. Curving to the right they walked into some smaller, more intimate seating areas. Hearing people talking, Jana recognized Matt’s throaty laugh. She stopped, wanting to charge over to him, but afraid of what she might find.

  The hostess, who had blabbered on about the amenities during the entire tour – Jana hadn’t heard a word she said – approached her. She had continued walking until she realized Jana stopped. “What do you think? It’s really a nice setup. The customers who bought the gold memberships can’t stop expressing their appreciation for the atmosphere, the privacy and accommodations.”

  A man and woman sat on a loveseat facing her. Opposite them, she saw the back of Matt’s head. His arm rested along the top of the sofa behind the head of the lady he had come in with. Throwing back almost all of what whisky she had left and relishing the burn, Jana marched into the space, turning around to face him.

  Matt jerked upright, jumping to his feet. His face clearly reflected the shock of being caught.

  Turning her attention to the woman, Jana’s chest hurt. The woman looked like Macy. Long, straight, blonde hair fell over her bare shoulders and she wore some slinky little sexy number. Experiencing a slight dry-heave, the whisky she’d just downed, burned Jana’s throat again.

  “Excuse me,” Matt thundered, drawing her focus back on him. He no longer had a wary look about him, but now exhibited a threatening, fuming man. Clamping his fingers around her wrist, he attempted to haul her away.

  Yanking free, she stumbled and glared at Macy’s clone. “You need to go find your own man,” she hissed. “This one is taken whether he realizes it or not.”

  The woman shrunk into the couch. Her face stoic, but something in her huge blue eyes reflected regret or empathy.

  Matt’s fingers clamped around her neck, squeezing tight. He hauled her backwards into his side, thrusting her from the room. He growled into her ear. “Are you drunk?”

  “Thanks for reminding me,” she slurred, finishing the last of her drink.

  Jerking the glass out of her hands, he slammed it on a table as he forced her into one of the private bedrooms. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he roared.

  Wrenching free of him, she circled and challenged him. “I’m the one asking the questions here.” Her words came out garbled. She concentrated before continuing. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “My damn job, Jana. I hope to hell you didn’t just blow my damn cover.”

  Attempting to cross her arms over her chest, her wrists smacked together, and she tried again. “Oh yeah. That’s a likely explanation.”

  “It’s the truth. I told you I was working a big case. It just happens to involve Pillow Talk. I can’t give you any more details.”

  Her head swam. Jutting out her hip, she tapped her foot to give the appearance that she maintained some semblance of body control, because she didn’t. Her limbs felt lax and sluggish. “Oh, you can’t tell me, but you can bring along your little Barbie doll girlfriend.”

  “She’s a cop, Jana. Vice recruited her for this case. Why do you assume the worse? Why would I do that to you, to us? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you even the things I could about it.”

  Hearing that hurt her more than anything else had up until then. She raised her hand and struck him across the face. A throbbing started in her hand and travelled up her arm. He didn’t move. He remained immobile and her pulse raced. She watched his lips turn up into a scathing smile.

  “This takes me back. Back to when you were all hoity-toity believing I was a piece of shit. Seems you still feel that way. Don’t worry, I’m so disappointed and offended right now I can’t even summon an urge to spank your mistrusting and oblivious ass as I did the first time you slapped me.” Moving his gaze to the floor, his head lowered and he ran his hand through his hair holding it to his scalp. “Unfuckingbelievable. And you’re drunk. Damn it, Jana.”

  She flinched as he flung his arm downward.

  He halted for a second, glaring at her before he pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. “I told you I have no desire to get hold of you right now, believe me. I wouldn’t trust myself to not bring you to your safe word within the first few licks.” Opening his wallet, he shoved some cash at her. “Get out of here. Go to your apartment. Have reception call you a cab. If I don’t find your car in the parking lot when I walk outside and make certain it’s still there, I’ll call you in as driving under the influence.” Opening the door, he stood waiting for her to go through first. “Don’t forget to go put your fucking clothes back on.”

  Raising her head, she shivered, observing the emotion in his eyes. She witnessed so many different ones. Not a single one positive, and it crushed her. The agony in her chest swelled until she worried every rib had disintegrated, leaving her heart defenseless and apt to fatality. She’d fucked up. She’d fucked up bad.

  Chapter 3

  Somehow, she made it home Saturday night. The cabdriver asked her more than once if she needed to go to the hospital. She regretted that she’d probably scared the guy. She broke into tears before her butt hit the seat, and it only got worse from there. At one point she doubted she would make it into her apartment. Sobs quaked through her with such force that she knelt several times, keeping her head low, gasping to draw air into her hurting lungs.

  She cried until she couldn’t anymore. Then she stared int
o the darkness until the tears returned. She prayed for a text from Matt. She considered texting him. But what would she write? What could she say? She’d hurt him. She’d jeopardized an ongoing investigation. She’d doubted him. All because she was afraid to be happy. She had it all, more than she’d ever expected, and she’d destroyed it.

  The sun came up Sunday morning and she remained under a blanket curled up at the foot of her bed. Mame and Vera had been whining for hours for her to pick them up and put them on the bed with her, but she couldn’t. The pain morphed into numbness. She had things to do. She didn’t care. Somehow, she needed to get to her car. Her suitcases were in the trunk and she had a flight at four that afternoon. She hoped they didn’t tow her car. Pillow Talk didn’t close until four in the morning, so she doubted they would call for a wrecker unless it stayed in their parking lot at least until the following morning.

  Thank goodness she didn’t have to see anyone she knew that day. Albert had sent her the script and she had a photographic memory, so memorizing lines always came easy for her. She had a rehearsal first thing Monday morning. Waiting until one in the afternoon, she forced herself out of bed.

  She had a doggy door, so she hadn’t neglected the dogs’ bladders. Dumping some food in their bowls, she washed her face and brushed her hair. Still dressed in the previous night’s clothes, she slipped on her boots and left.

  After leaving her building, it dawned on her when she stepped out into the rain that she hadn’t called a cab. That made her start crying again. She managed to relay her address to the dispatcher in between sobs. The cool rain fell on her head, running down her forehead combining with her tears. She could move back inside the door and wait, but she shivered from the dampness and cooler temps. It reminded her that she still lived and breathed. Every part of her, mind and body, fluctuated between extreme agony and absolute detachment.