Page 26 of Yours Truly

When Deuce said he was opening an Ink Time here, it felt like kismet. Like the gods of fate coming down from the sky to gift me with all the tools I need for a perfect, peaceful life. Now I just have to work to make it happen.

I can’t wait for my first solo session. It’s going to set the tone for my entire career.

“Well, the piece I’m doing is on a female domme. And it’s of her submissive’s chastity cages.” I wrinkle my nose. “Well, a replica of one.”

“So she’s a dominatrix?” Ev asks, sipping her wine, staring at me like I’m about to reveal the world’s biggest secret.

I shake my head. “No, not really. She’s just the dominant in their sexual relationship, as well as their emotional one. I don’t think it’s about heels and corsets as much as it’s about an equal exchange of power, with a reward system, too.”

“Interesting,” Ev says, drawing circles around the top of her wine glass.

“Her partner has his thingy in a cage all the time?” Juni whispers, making Ev and Dolly laugh.

“Yes, Juniper, his penis is in a cage and she takes him out to reward him,” I say, refusing to use the term thingy about male genitalia. “And she wants his cage inked onto her to always remember the dynamic and their experience. For when it ends.”

They sip their drinks in unison, and I sip mine too, all four of us turning our heads and narrowing our eyes to imagine the cage in action.

Trace’s third leg comes to mind, and I get a vision of his lean, toned body covered in art from head to toe. He’s naked, his hair is wet, his feet are bare, and his hands are working to close the cage. It hangs heavily between his thighs as he outstretches his arm, a silver key hanging from a delicate chain. “Take my control,” he rasps as the key rests in my palm.

“To each their own, I guess,” Ev finally says with a sigh as Juni and Dolly move into the kitchen to work on the food.

My lower half surges with heat and desire at the fantasy of Trace naked, in the cage, at my mercy. Ev did say she thinks Trace needs discipline…

“I’ve been using it to sketch. Working on the design.” I take my sketch pad from nearby and slide it along the white marble counter for Ev to flip through.

She’s silent–even at the chastity cage sketches–and takes her time moving through each page as Juniper and Dolly talk about chicken glaze and roasted potatoes.

Finally she turns to me, the wine making her cheeks rosy and her voice soft when she says, “You’re so talented. You remind me so much of the girl who taught Trace.”

My eyes drop to the sketch pad where Trace’s hand is on full display. We both stare at the detailed octopus leg swimming down his pointer finger, curled around a tattoo machine.

I keep the rattle from my voice, despite the way my chest echoes with unanswered questions and frayed nerves. “Who taught Trace?”

“Before his show, he was trying to just work his way up the chain like everyone else,” Ev says as Juniper slides her a plate of food—roasted chicken and potatoes, steamed vegetables and a slab of garlic bread that makes my mouth water. My plate is next. I can’t eat until I know. I can’t do anything but push a potato around with the tines of my fork and scream SPIT IT OUT in my head.

“Anyway,” she says after blowing on a bite of food. “He connected with this artist. She was his age but had already been working for a few years.” She finishes her wine. “They bonded over art and fell in love.”

I knew he had heartbreak in the past, but now I need to know what happened.

“And?” My pulse is echoing in my brain as I stare at stray pepper flakes on my dinner plate.

“She… got him connected to the agent where he got the TV deal.” Ev takes another bite and I swear to Henry Cavill I’m about to take the fork out of her hand, throw it across the room and scream SPIT IT THE FUCK OUT, EVERLY.

But I stay calm because flies with honey, flies with vinegar and all that.

“But she also cheated on him in one of the most horrific ways. She broke his heart and left him right before he was leaving to start the show.” Another bite, only now that I know what happened, I almost need a second to process. Except now she keeps talking as my heart races and my stomach coils with pain.

He was betrayed by the person he loved most, by a person deeply entwined in his art and dreams.

That had to feel awful. Beyond awful.

“Is he in Bluebell to get better?” I question, not even sure what I mean by ‘get better’? Sober? Healthy? Heal his heart? I don’t know. But Ev understands the subtext of the question.

“Deuce wants him to stay. Now that Trace is out of contract with the network, he wants Trace to lay down roots here in Bluebell and live the life he dreamed of before his TV deal.”

“What kind of life is that?” I ask, afraid to know the answer. Selfishly afraid it won’t fit into my dream.

“Small town, family he loves, wife he adores, doing the work he was born to do.”

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