“Why don’t you claim him, then?” I asked, frowning, not sure how to handle my loyalty to the man who had loved me for twelve years and my manipulative cousin.
She huffed a snort of laughter. “Because I like to dominate men. Tie them up and inflict the kind of pain that turns me and a submissive on. Daniel wouldn’t let me touch him with a crop let alone my lips.”
The thought of Chantelle strapping Daniel to a cross and hurting him tightened my stomach. “Would you?” I asked. “I mean if he agreed to submit to you?”
“No,” she answered without hesitation. “I prefer blonds with a little less…breadth of chest and shoulder width.”
“I happen to like his size,” I murmured the thought as it flitted through my mind. “He makes me feel safe.”
“He’ll keep you safe if you let him,” Chantelle whispered back with a sure smile.
I studied the mug clasped between my hands. “But what about Stephen?”
“What about him?”
“I’ve spent almost half my life as his girlfriend. Leaving him isn’t…I-I don’t think he would react in a healthy way.”
“He’ll probably throw a major hissy like the little pansy he is, but other than that, starting over would be a breeze. There’s no marriage, so no divorce. It’s simply a matter of packing up your shit and moving out.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. She made it sound so simple, but my life was tied to his. Bound up tight in years of shared history. “He wouldn’t let me go so easily.”
“He wouldn’t have a choice, and if he does come after you, call the cops. File a restraining order. Find yourself a real man who will protect you from him.”
I smiled at her naivety. “That’s a fairytale happily ever after.”
“It’s yours to take.”
She sounded so confident in her statement, but my smile faded as I was too well-acquainted with reality to imagine such an ending for me. “I can’t just give up and walk away on him, Chantelle. All of those years I spent investing in his life, his mental and emotional health…he doesn’t mean to hurt me. It’s just that stress pulls him under. He gets overwhelmed and needs someone to help with the demons haunting his mind.”
“That someone is a goddamned shrink, not you.”
“He needs me,” I reiterated, thinking of Stephen’s tears, and the countless sobs he had released on my shoulders over the years. He’d gotten so sick…
Chantelle stared at me, lips pursed, her gaze full of concern. “You’ve always made excuses for him.”
“They’re not excuses. They’re reasons for our behavior, and we all have them. Don’t pretend you don’t.” I stared her down for a change, hoping she remembered why she’d striven to become a Domme.
She didn’t bat an eyelash. “You’re going to go back to him, aren’t you? Even though he threatened to kill you for your betrayal.”
“I didn’t betray him,” I whispered. “My body did.”
“No.” Chantelle climbed off the bed and glared down at me. “You responded to the gentle touch of a loving man, one who turns you on because you feel a connection to him.”
I opened my mouth to argue I had a connection with Stephen. Our lives were intertwined to the root of us, yes, but did I actually experience more than a nurturing draw toward him? I came up empty and pressed my lips together. Was that why I’d never climaxed with him? Didn’t feel arousal from his touch? Damned tears made my vision watery again. “I-I don’t know what to do.”
Chantelle heaved a sigh. “You’re staying here until you do.”
I glanced down at the wrinkled T-shirt and leggings she’d let me borrow the night before. “I don’t have any of my clothes.”
“Get out of bed,” my cousin ordered. “Shower and ready to take a drive by Stephen’s house. We’ll pick up some of your things and come back here for a little girl time.”
“What if he’s home?”
“This is his weekend to work.”
“What—how do you know that?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
A coy smile lifted her lips. “He forbade you from speaking to me, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been keeping tabs on your life, Becky. Both your lives.”