Page 77 of His Custody

She stanched his irritation with another kiss before urging him onto his back, unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time, and drew her breasts over his chest, down his torso, kissing his smooth skin in their wake.

When she got to his pants, she unhooked and unzipped them, took his cock in her hand and stroked him. “How about I make you forget instead?”

***

He told himself he was going to have a drink with a friend. He told himself a lot of things these days. Justified things he had no business doing.It’s okay to get plastered on the nights Keyne won’t call. It’s fine to skip the gym when you’re so hungover you feel like you’re closer to dead than alive. It’s completely acceptable to shunt work off onto Deja because you can’t keep your head on straight.

It had been bad before, when she’d left, but after she started dating Tyler and had stopped coming home, it had gotten a million times worse. He’d marshaled his control before, but he’d all but given up now. It was his fault, he’d pushed her away. No matter if she belonged to him in his heart, she belonged to someone else while she walked around every day and whatever kind of fucked-up he was, he wasn’t the kind of guy who ever stole another guy’s girl.

Dated her afterward, sure, but he’d never cheated on his partners who’d asked for fidelity and had never facilitated anyone else’s unfaithfulness. Knowingly at any rate. The point was that he wouldn’t fuck Keyne while she had a boyfriend, nor would he master her. He loved how she made it a verb, like it was something he did to her, as if she were a hobby to be learned, a skill to be perfected. She was so much more than that, but he knew she liked to be objectified. Let her think that way while he knew better.

She was a puzzle he’d never be able to completely put together because she was ever changing, a mystery that always had some loose threads hanging. He wanted to tinker with her for the rest of his life, figure out how all the moving pieces fit together, learn how to repair them when they broke. He’d earn a doctorate in Keyne-ology.

When she came back. If she came back. For now, he was on a self-imposed sabbatical and he fucking hated it. So he met Alice at a bar he used to favor, getting there early to down a drink before she showed up. A vodka tonic so she wouldn’t smell it on his breath.

Alice kissed him on the cheek and set herself down close beside him on the leather couch, placing a hand on his knee that soon slid up his thigh.

She was a beautiful woman and if she had a submissive bone in her body, he was sure they would’ve gotten together at some point. He’d considered letting her top him to see what it would be like to sleep together but something in him had always rebelled. He liked dissecting women like clockwork and he couldn’t do that if he was the one being whaled on while strapped to the Saint Andrew’s cross.

He didn’t move her hand or shrink away, though. No, he let her stroke his leg through his jeans. It felt good. He didn’t have a whole lot of human contact these days. And by not a whole lot, he meant none. They chatted for a while before she brought up the inevitable. “How’s Keyne?”

“She’s at school, doing well in her classes, and she has a boyfriend.”

“Who you hate?”

“With the passion of a thousand burning suns.”

She laughed at him, throwing back her head and exposing her throat. “The two of you are clearly close, and I could tell when you brought her to the gym that you care about her deeply. I can understand why you haven’t come back to the club. It was satisfying, right? Having that much control over someone and that much responsibility?”

He leaned back into the couch, part of his guard let down. He and Alice understood each other. “That and fucking terrifying. I’ve never felt so off balance in my whole life.”

“I think that’s good for you, J,” she said, landing a punch on his arm that made him wince. “Teach you a little humility. I’ve gotta get to the club. You know where to find us if you need some solid ground to stand on. We’ve got a couple new subs you might play well with. Let me know if you want introductions.”

“Will do, Alice. Good to see you.”

Half an hour and two more vodka tonics later, his phone rang. “Ryan, what’s up?”

Ryan was the one who’d been storing his stuff. He’d seen him a few times since then for lunch or a drink when Keyne was out with friends, but not lately.

“Alice said she had a drink with you. Thought you might be up for partying a little harder than that.”

The “no” started to rise to Jasper’s lips but never quite made it out. Why not? Why shouldn’t he get high? It was Friday night, Keyne wouldn’t call until Sunday. He’d have plenty of time to get his head back on straight.

***

It was time for her Sunday night call with Jasper, and for the first time, she wasn’t looking forward to it. Well, she was, because she’d want to talk to Jasper even if he were going to yell at her, which he wouldn’t. He might bite his tongue and look like he wanted to raise his voice, but he always kept his cool with her, always.

And it wasn’t even anything bad. Her grades were good, her roommates were fine, she wasn’t in any trouble to speak of. She’d almost rather she were. Jasper liked to problem-solve, which was maybe part of why he loved her so much. She was a problem that would always need solving.

Her therapist would probably call their relationship co-dependent—had in the past alluded to just that—but the thing was, wasn’t everyone co-dependent? And at least the person she was depending on would never let her down. Which made her all the more uncomfortable as the phone rang. And rang. Where was he?

Finally his voice mail picked up and she was so startled, she hung up, didn’t leave a message. Never had he not answered her calls. Never ever. There was a plummeting sensation in her stomach as she tried again. And again. Seriously, what the hell?

It had been a long time since she’d had a panic attack. The nightmares had never left, but they were almost routine by now; something that happened between when she closed her eyes at night and opened them in the morning. She could tell she was edging into one now because she felt like her body temperature was dropping. Cold started in her chest, and pumped through her body. She should ask one of her chem major friends what compound it was that made a person feel like that. How you could feel like you were freezing from the inside out and not die.

Pacing in her tiny room probably looked ridiculous, but she didn’t care. It was half to keep warm and half so she didn’t have to sit still, because if she sat still she might lose whatever grip on reality she had left, which was ebbing by the second. For the tenth time, she got his voice mail, and finally she spoke.

“Jasper. Where are you? It’s Sunday, and you’re supposed to be there, and you’re not, and I’m...” Her voice cracked on a sob and she hated herself for it. Really? All it took for her to break was someone not answering their phone? But it wasn’tanyone. She wouldn’t have cared if Tyler hadn’t answered his phone, or had taken a while to get back to a text. But this was Jasper, and he’d made her a promise. “Call me. When you get this, please call me.”

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