Page 59 of The Shame Game

“Look, humiliation play is tricky. You knew that going in. That’s why you set up these scenes, to see how they worked for you both. Right?”

“Right,” James agreed slowly.

“And you figured out that objectifying your wife to this degree, in this way, doesn’t work for you. So, you won’t do it again.”

James waited, but Jack just sat back in his chair, his tattoo peeking out from under the open cuff of his shirt, looking like a dark, brooding angel. “That’s your advice? Don’t do it again?”

“That’s my advice.” Jack sipped his drink, his eyes steady over the rim. “I do have one question.”

“What?”

“Was the fuck toy thing hot?”

“Yeah.” James blew out a breath. “Yeah. That part worked, for both of us.”

“Then you just need to modify it a little. Go with beloved, cherished fuck toy rather than disposable, replaceable one.”

James considered that. “As advice goes, it’s not bad.”

“I aim to please.”

James ran a hand over his hair, exhausted by the emotional turmoil. “I hate fucking up.”

“It happens to us humans.” Jack tipped his glass back to drain it and stood to pour himself another. “Are you going to forgive yourself for it?”

James found himself smiling at the blunt question. “Eventually. First I have to ask for Amanda’s forgiveness.”

“If you need it, she’ll give it,” Jack predicted. He held up the bottle. “Another?”

James shook his head, setting his glass aside. “I have to get going. I want to be there when Amanda gets home from work. Thanks, Jack. For the drink and the time.”

“I’ve got plenty of both,” Jack replied, and lifted his glass in a toast. “Good luck.”

* * * *

Amanda walked into the house and sniffed the air. The scent of grilling meat hit her nose and made her stomach rumble, reminding her that she’d missed lunch. She slipped out of her jacket and boots, tucked both away in the closet, then padded on stockinged feet to the kitchen.

“I smell meat,” she announced, and James turned from the stove.

“I wanted steak,” he said simply. “Hungry?”

“Starved,” she admitted, coming around the island to kiss him. “I didn’t get to eat lunch.”

He frowned at that, like she’d known he would, and jerked his chin at the counter behind her. “Start on that. This’ll be a few minutes yet.”

She turned to find a tray of cheese and crackers laid out, and two glasses of wine. She helped herself to a slice of cheddar, savoring the sharp flavor, then picked up one of the glasses.

“Are you ready to talk about it, or should we wait until after dinner?”

“You mean the scene? Sure, we can talk it out. I liked it.”

James flipped the steaks on the range top grill, then turned to face her. “You did?”

“Well, some parts better than others.” She set her wine carefully aside. He looked grim. Something was brewing under the surface, and she wasn’t quite sure of her footing. “My jaw is pretty sore today from the ball gag, so I don’t know if I want to do that again. Maybe we can stick to the bit gag from now on, that one’s not so rough.”

“All right. What else?”

She frowned in thought. “I liked being manhandled, and I liked not being able to talk. The way you were talking to me was…”

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