Page 21 of Stuck with You

She moved away slowly, giving me a searching look. A look that conveyed an emotion that I wasn’t sure that I was ready for.

“We wouldn’t have a time limit if we went to my place. Or yours,” Aubrey said in a flirting tone. “We could stop for dinner first to get our strength back up before we go another round. Maybe we could spend the night together. I… I really like you.”

That’s when the panic set in.

I wanted to say yes. I swear I did. But there was a weight on my chest and that lizard part of my brain was screaming at me to run. Now.

Before I realized what I was doing I said, “No. I think we’re done for tonight.”

I winced internally at the coldness in my voice. The look of hurt on Aubrey’s face hit me like a punch to the gut, but I wasn’t thinking clearly right now. I was remembering the last two women I loved and how that had turned out. How horrible the break-ups had been. The way those experiences had convinced me that I was fundamentally unlovable. That I was good for a little bit of fun, but not for a lifetime.

I couldn’t take another heartbreak, not from Aubrey, and I knew that made me a coward, but right now I didn’t care. I needed to escape. I knew that I owed her an explanation, any explanation, but the words sat like a lump in my throat.

She gave me a long look before sighing deeply and turning away from me.

“Okay, I’ll get dressed.”

We both pulled on our clothes quickly, and then Aubrey headed for the door. I hurried after her, grabbing her wrist.

“Aubrey, wait.”

She shook her head and blinked away the tears that were pooling in her eyes. My heart pinched in my chest.

“I thought you liked me,” she said quietly. “I thought we had something here. Something good. I was falling in love with you, you know. But I guess this was all a game to you, huh? Or maybe this was all just revenge for getting you arrested?”

“Aubrey, no, that’s not it at all, I just…”

I stood there looking at her like an idiot, still gripping her wrist but unable to explain.

“It’s fine Taylor, you don’t need to explain,” she said with false cheerfulness. “You told me that BDSM wasn’t about romance, but I got mixed up and caught feelings. That was my mistake, I’ll own that. Anyway, thanks for showing me the ropes here, but I don’t think I’ll be back. I think our time together has run its course.”

“Aubrey!”

She pulled away from me and opened the door, almost running over a club monitor who was coming to roust us out the room. Aubrey took off at a run.

“Is everything okay, Mistress Taylor?” the monitor asked, giving me a stern look when I tried to follow Aubrey.

The woman was built like a linebacker. I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to take me down if she thought I was hassling a submissive.

“It’s fine, just a misunderstanding,” I said miserably as I looked down the empty hallway where Aubrey had disappeared. “Thank you.”

I did a quick circuit around the club, hoping Aubrey was hanging around, but of course she was gone. Cursing myself as an idiot, I retrieved my cell phone from the locker and called April.

“Can I come over?” I asked when she answered the phone. “I fucked things up with Aubrey.”

Aubrey

“Idon’t understand.”

Bree handed me the wine and I took a swig out of the bottle, bypassing my glass. My sister grimaced but didn’t say anything.

I’d shown up at her house after leaving the club. It had taken a glass of wine and a handful of Kleenex before I’d stopped crying long enough to tell her what I was upset about.

“You’ve been doing these… scenes for weeks, where she spanks you or ties you up or whatever, then she gives you an orgasm and sends you on your merry way?” Bree recapped what I’d shared in between sobs. “But you never get to touch her? And you otherwise don’t talk during the week? That seems kind of weird to me.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of reading on BDSM and it’s not really that unusual for someone to give pleasure during a scene. In fact there are people called ‘pleasure doms’ who focus on sexual pleasure and orgasm,” I explained. “Often it’s what they call a ‘platonic dominance’ though. There’s no emotion other than the excitement the dominant gets from whatever they do to the submissive.”

I took another swig of the wine. Talking about what happened clinically was not making me feel the slightest bit better.

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