Page 29 of Disgrace

“But Jason would?” he nudges.

“Yeah.” My voice catches.

“And that’s a problem because?”

“It can’t go anywhere, Leon. We can’t be more than this, so what’s the point?” I can feel a tight pinch behind my nose and I blink the first sign of tears away.

“And why is that?” He won’t give up. He’s relentless.

“Um, he owns a sex club, Leon. How long do you think he will be happy with one woman?” I snap.

“He bought the club for you remember? To keep you safe. Sounds likemoreto me.”

“He was aregularlong before that, Leon,” I add like that is its own justification.

“And you’re a professional Domme. You’re hardly the poster child for vanilla,” he counters.

“My job, my fantasies, are very different from my reality, Leon. I want a normal relationship.” My exasperation is wasted on him.

“Normal?”

“Well, no, notthatnormal.” I grin and he chuckles before his expression is again all serious.

“You could have that with Jason, but you need to tell him the truth.” His tone is stern, his argument compelling. “You threw a shit fit when he lied to you. Look, I know fuck all about relationships, and he doesn’t even like me, but doesn’t he deserve the same courtesy?” He sits back and crosses his arms, resting his defence.

“I guess.” I won’t meet his gaze. I hate that he’s always right.

“No Sam, you don’t guess. You fucking know! Now stop being such a pussy.” His eyes narrow, but they gleam and spark with a thrill that is indisputable.

“Oh, you didnotjust call me that.” The cab pulls to a smooth halt in front of the canopied entrance to the club. He remains definitely tight lipped. “You will so pay for that,” I murmur. He pushes a twenty through the Plexiglas and opens the door for me.

“I was counting on it.”

“I think you like this bit more than the bullwhip.” I finish smoothing the arnica cream along his broad shoulders and help him slip his t-shirt back over his head. His eyes are soft and dreamy. His body moves with the slightest touch from me, and his lazy smile is adorable. I take his hand and lead him to the sofa in the corner of my favourite playroom. The dark walls are covered in a rich red velour paper, which is enticingly tactile. The wall lights are soft flames, and there is a very comfortable chaise for some relaxing aftercare. The St Andrew’s Cross dominates the room, but most of the playrooms have one. This room, however, has no peephole, no windows, and no way of gaining entry once inside. It is completely private and only available to very few members. Leon lays his head in my lap, and I stroke his long hair, threading it through my fingers, my nails lightly scraping his scalp. He shivers with pleasure and sighs. His eyelids drift closed, and his weight noticeably increases as he falls into a deep sleep.

We never enter the room or leave together. Afterward, we meet at the bar, and Leon has my drink waiting. He still has this gorgeous afterglow, which warms me. Even if I do wish he could find someone else to trust enough, I am happy that I can help him in this way.

“So where’s lover boy tonight?” he teases.

“He had some international conference call or something, but my phone’s been playing up, so I actually have no idea what time he’s finishing. He always texts or calls, but I haven’t been able to switch the damn thing on all day. I left it at the flat. Useless piece of crap,” I moan.

“Tell me about it.” Marco appears at the end of the bar where Leon and I are perched. Sofia’s twin brother took over as assistant manager only a few months back. He fancied a break from the family restaurant business and jumped at the chance when I mentioned the vacancy at the summer barbecue at Daniel and Bethany’s family home. “The refurbishment next door cut through our data cables. Our computers have been down all day. It’s like living in the Stone Age having to take down everything manually. Luckily Gus pretty much knows everyone so the door hasn’t been too much of an issue. But checking guest applications has been a nightmare.” He drags his hand through his elegant, styled, short hair and flopping fringe.

Leon’s phone buzzes in his back pocket and he grimaces when Marco scowls. Its club policy that all phones are surrendered at the check-in.

“Sorry Marco, I didn’t realise I still had it. I must have been distracted when we came in.” He winks at me and steps around the back of the bar into the darkness to answer the call. But I can still hear the one sided conversation.

“Jason?” he queries and now I pay a little more attention.

“It’s busted, not worked all day. She’s with me though so if…At the club why? Who?”

I have just held my drink up toward a frazzled looking Marco. “I think you need this.”

“Richard who?” I hear Leon’s concern as the drink I am offering up slips from my fingers and crashes onto the glass top surface of the bar. Smashing spectacularly into a million pieces. Despite the mess and noise I freeze, my eyes are as wide as Leon’s, who still has his phone at his ear.

“Not that I can see but…Look, we’ll leave now.” He swipes to end the call and steps back to me.

“Sam, are you okay?” He cups my cheek, but I barely feel his touch, I just feel icy cold. I have avoided him for years when I learned who Master Alpha really was, because I honestly had no idea how I would react. I know now. Why wasn’t I told? The admin team here are excellent. Why wouldn’t they let me know? Oh, the computers. I nod numbly at my own answered question but reach for the whip I had placed on the stool beside me. I need to leave before—

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