He placed his hands on her shoulders when she stopped in front of him. “I know you want a relationship like you had before. In a perfect world, you’d have it. But the BDSM lifestyle isn’t a perfect one, and you don’t always get what you want. You of all people should know that.” Wrapping his hands around her arms, he squeezed gently. “You were treated horribly. No sub should ever have to suffer what you did. I wouldn’t ask you to consider Trevor if I didn’t trust him. He expressed an interest in you as soon as David left. If you’d give him the opportunity, I honestly believe he would make you happy. He and Brian are devoted, committed, and can give you what you need. I want you to trust me to take care of this for you.”
“I can’t.”
He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Have you ever considered the possibility that Trevor and Brian are in a committed relationship and have been for years? You’d never have to worry about what happened between you and David with them. There would be three of you—a triple union. You could have the family you’ve always wanted and no matter what, you’d never be left alone.”
When she tried to pull away he tightened his grip and narrowed his eyes. “It’s not a request. As soon as I sort out this mess you’ve created, I’m calling Trevor. You will, at the very least, give yourself the opportunity to see if something’s there.”
A miserable sniff was the only response he received, but it was more than enough. She wasn’t arguing, which meant she was going to allow it—even if she wasn’t entirely happy about it.
He released her and started walking toward the kitchen. “I want you to get your things and go home. I’m not sure what you said to Lacey but I can only imagine how bad this looks.”
“I swear I didn’t say anything to her.” From the nearness of her voice, he knew she was following him.
He stopped, pivoted, and almost bumped into her. He knew he was moments away from losing his temper. He’d found what he wanted only to have it ripped away by a woman who didn’t mean any harm but caused it just the same.
“You didn’t have to say anything.” At Aly’s questioning look he exhaled raggedly. “She’s not into the lifestyle. So just by showing up here, in my home, referring to me as Master…” He drew a deep breath, striving for calm, when he saw Aly’s face pale.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t but that doesn’t make the situation any better. You need to leave. I’ll call you after I’ve spoken to Trevor.”
Drawing her lip between her teeth, Aly nodded as if pained and turned to leave. Michael promptly did the same.
First he had to figure out where in the hell Lacey was, which meant calling the shop. Hopefully she was with Jacob and he would be able to explain. If not, he’d have to do something he was never very good at—groveling.
As he pulled his cell from his pocket, his palms went clammy.
So much for romantic dreams of grandeur.
This had just become a cluster-fuck of epic proportions.
Lacey pounded on Candice’s door, taking out her frustrations on the cheap, unyielding wood.
Getting here had been harder than she thought. Jacob had flat-out refused to take her anywhere until Michael returned, so she’d been forced to present a fake smile as she’d left the shop and started walking in the direction of town.
Thank God for eighty-year-old Mr. Turner and his high-school-sweetheart-turned-wife, Ester.
Their weekly visit to the grocery store saved her from bumping into Michael along the way. Not that they had the good fortune of avoiding him entirely. When they’d hit the highway Mike had sped by with her Toyota on the back of his truck. She’d shrunk into a ball in the backseat, hoping like hell he didn’t take a close look into the car. Despite how shitty the situation was, having a confrontation with Michael in front of an elderly couple who still held hands and kissed like teens would have made things much worse.
“Hang on a minute! I’m coming!” Candice yelled through the door. The metallic snick of the chain lock sliding free echoed in time with the click of the deadbolt turning over. The door cracked open and Candice peered out. “Lacey?” Candice fiddled with the lapels of her robe, her messy blonde hair and puffy eyes a clear indication she’d been sound asleep. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not telling you anything until I have a cup of coffee.”
Lacey stepped past her friend into the apartment, deposited her purse on the couch and stomped toward the kitchen. She’d stayed over after many a night spent out on the town with Candy so she was familiar with the layout of the apartment. She retrieved the canister with the coffee, pulled down a filter and walked to the machine. Candice entered the kitchen and put a hand out to stop her when she reached for the pot handle.
“What’s going on?”
How could she possibly answer that question? Candice had told her this would happen. She’d said entering into a relationship with Michael Gilchrist was just asking for trouble. Damn it, her best friend had repeatedly warned her that all men were exactly the same, over and over again.
Why the hell didn’t she listen?
“I did something really stupid, Candy.” She placed her hands on the counter, lowering her head. “Something really damn stupid.”
“You finally bumped uglies with Scott?” Candice grimaced, her lack of approval apparent. She’d never cared for Scott, finding him too conceited, arrogant and metrosexual for her taste.
Lacey shook her head, eyes downcast, knowing what was coming. “I broke it off when I found out he was boning Karen.”
“Karen!” Candice snapped, placing a hand on each hip. “His secretary?”
“The very same.”
“What a fucking asshole! Did you kill him? Are you here to enlist help in disposing of the body?
Because I know of a place near Sevierville that’s perfect for the rat bastard.”
“As much as I’d have liked to, no, I didn’t kill him.” She closed her eyes, balled her fists and decided it was time to confess. “I slept with Michael last night.”
Candice frowned, her perfectly arched, brushstroke eyebrows creasing. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I could have sworn you just said you slept with Michael.”
Hurt and anger combined, snapping her already teetering control. She should have woken up in Michael’s arms this morning, partaken in a recap of the fantastic sex they’d shared and had the opportunity to enjoy breakfast with him before they thanked each other and ended what never had the chance to start. That’s how one-night stands occurred with people you knew, right? It was only with strangers that you got the hell out of Dodge as soon as you woke up and realized the party was over.
“Damn it, don’t do this right now!” Lacey snagged the coffee pot and turned to the sink. “I know, okay? I get it. I fucked up. He got what he wanted and that’s that. You were right and I was wrong. There. Are you happy?”
“Hold up.” Candice took the pot from her and turned off the water. “Don’t put words into my mouth, and don’t go spouting off. As far as I knew you were dating Scott as of yesterday. Then this morning you bust into my house, demand coffee and tell me you spent the night with Michael. Since there’s only one Michael I can think of who fits the bill, I have a feeling there’s more going on here than a night of great sex.”
The fight left Lacey’s body. Screaming at Candice wasn’t the way to go, and technically she didn’t even have the right to be angry or upset with Michael. It had been a wonderful night but it was never meant to be more than that. He’d never lied to her or made false promises. It had been exactly what it was—two consenting adults sharing an extraordinary night together. She was just too enamored to accept it with dignity and tact, keep her mouth shut like she should have and move on.