Whipped (Hitched #2)(25)

"Come on, Vi. We need to talk."

"We have talked. Goodbye, Chad."

Before he can protest, she closes the door on him. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. I like it. "So that's your old boyfriend?"

She gulps down her drink. "Yeah. We lived together for a while. It was…You know what, I don't want to talk about it right now." Right. Don't bring up points of contention. Vi takes another sip. "I need a refill."

"I'll join you."

We walk over to the bar, and I order a Buttery Nipple. Yes, it's a drink. Vi orders a Miami Ice. Tate is a speed demon as he mixes the drinks. He passes us the glasses. "Here you go, guys. Sorry, but we're out of ice."

A thought crosses my mind. "I'll run out and get some."

Vi grabs my hand. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll go down to the corner store. I'll be just a minute."

She gives me a kiss. "Thanks."

I run out of the apartment. I pass a red bouquet on the stairs. I see Chad in the lobby and grab his shoulder. "You shouldn't have showed up."

"Get your hands off me, man."

I don't. I squeeze harder. "If Vi wants you to leave her alone, you leave her alone."

"She doesn't know what she wants."

I smirk. "Because she's not with you?"

"Because she's apparently with you, mister tough guy. She doesn't like that. Not really. She needs a sub." He sure looks like a sub. Small and thin. Pale. I imagine snapping him in two.

I lean closer and whisper in his ear. "If she really needed a sub, then she'd still be with you."

"Fuck you." He yanks my hand off and opens the door. He turns back for a moment. "Tell her happy birthday from me." He leaves.

I drive down to the corner store, buy a bag of ice, and return to the party. Tate mixes us more drinks. Vi caresses my face. "You okay? You're shaking?"

"Just tired. Happy birthday, babe."

But I’m not okay. We drink and dance and kiss, and Chad’s words replay in my head. And I wonder if I am what Vi needs.

And if I’m not, if I can change.





CHAPTER 15





VI


The night of my birthday party, Lachlan and I f*cked like we'd never f*cked before. It was as if he had to prove how much he wanted me. I know seeing Chad there probably messed with him a bit. Honestly, it messed with me, too. Not that it made me doubt my feelings for Lach. But it was unsettling to consider how different I am with Lachlan compared to Chad.

Are both of those people me? Can I be just one side of that coin and still be happy?

It's been a lot to think about over the last few months, but it hasn't diminished the pleasure I've experienced being with Lachlan. It hasn't even bothered me that once he and his manager cooled off he was back at work turning women on.

I trust him, though. I know he's just performing. Just like it wasn't sexual with my clients when I was a Dom. I've given some thought to taking on a client or two, but it hasn't felt right. Not with Lach in my life. I understand why he's ready to leave the Aussie Posse. In addition to wanting to build something else with his life, it takes a lot of emotional and sexual energy to give people their fantasy day in and day out. Our jobs aren't so different.

But God, these last few months. I've become one of those people you avoid on Facebook because all my status updates are about how happy I am.

You'd think that after a few months of being with Lachlan every night, waking up to him every morning, f*cking him every day—more than once—that the bloom would fade from the rose. That his tricks would wear thin and his cock would no longer be as satisfying.

You'd be dead wrong.

But.

BUT.

Routines happen, ya know? This is my home. I'm used to living alone. We haven't been a couple that long. And… did I mention I'm used to living alone?

I'm also used to being able to let my shit hang out at home. At work, both at Whipped and when I was a Dom, I have to be neat, orderly, all things in their place and in control. In my abode, I let my hair down and like things… casual.

Lachlan, surprisingly, is not quite as lackadaisical about his environment. Which he's making abundantly clear.

"Vi, babe, seriously? The laundry basket is literally less than a foot from the dirty clothes you dumped in the bathroom. Hon, I adore you to death, but really?"

He stands in the hall holding the wicker basket with a pained expression on his face.

I hold up my laptop as I slouch on the couch. "I'm about to level up on Diablo. I'll tidy up later."

"You always say later and later never happens."

"That's not true," I say as I kick some major spider ass with my badass magical powers. "Later just hasn't arrived yet. You really stress out too much about the little things, my dear. Try to relax."

He drops the basket with so much drama I laugh as he scurries to the kitchen. "Something smells heavenly," I say. "What's for dinner?"

"Chickpea and potato curry with coconut sauce," he says from the other room.

"Oh my God, you are amazing."

He pokes his head out. "That's what she said."