by Kitty Thomas
“Come here.”
She wanted to resist him. She wanted to lash out again, but he was holding his arms open to her, and it had been so long since any man had done that.
“Don't over think it,” he said.
Shannon got off the stool and in a moment of weakness, she let him hold her. The tears came harder as she laid her head against his warm bare chest. He was too tall for her to reach his shoulder. She tensed when he started rubbing her back, not because he was touching her, but because of the scars—that loud screaming void between them.
He shouldn't get to touch her in any way after that. Even though he saved her. Even though he hadn't directly made them. If he'd never brought her here...
He was old enough to know better. She'd been a silly little twenty-three year old girl. He was a much older man and a psychiatrist, for God's sake. He knew better. And yet he'd brought her here. He'd exposed her to the monster who'd destroyed her and broken all her dreams and fantasies in a single afternoon.
He'd taken any future of any kind she could have ever had. He'd taken her chance at freedom and a normal life in the real world. And he'd taken her chance of love or at the very least a real master. Yes, the house had been explained to her. She'd known—or thought she'd known—what she was signing on for.
There was no guarantee of love in this package. And even so, it wouldn't be the kind the rest of the world fully understood or was used to. Shannon had been fine with that. She didn't do vanilla. She'd had one normal mainstream relationship long before the house. And even though the guy had been hot, she'd been so repulsed by his cloying efforts to please her that she'd ended the relationship before it had really begun.
Even so, kinky relationships weren't cold and sterile. They were a closer bond than most realized. She'd hoped her kink would come packaged with love eventually. Unless the guy was made of stone it had to, right? Now she wasn't getting any of it, except suddenly Lindsay's arms around her, but just because he didn't want her to kill herself.
She didn't want his pity.
The kettle on the stove whistled and Lindsay stepped away to prepare their tea. Shannon sat back down at the bar stool and watched him set out the cups and saucers, the sugar and milk, and the tea. He scooped loose tea leaves into diffusers and set them inside the cups of hot water he'd just poured.
He set the timer on the stove for four minutes and then turned back toward her, his arms crossed over the chest that looked like it belonged to a twenty-five year old underwear model.
How old was he?
“I made Earl Grey. Decaf so you'll be able to sleep,” he said.
Like she'd be able to sleep. No doubt another Brian nightmare would be waiting for her to kickstart this whole horror show all over again the second her head touched the pillow.
“That's fine,” she said. Though she was sure he wasn't really asking her opinion on the matter.
“Do you take milk and sugar?”
“Just milk.”
He spent four agonizing minutes watching her while their tea steeped. She tried to pretend he was wearing a suit like normal. Thinking back to before the house, she remembered sitting in that lavender office of his in the city. Like everyone else, she'd thought Lindsay Smith was a woman. And gentle lavender walls, a fountain, and a row of orchids would seem to confirm that assumption—until he'd walked in and filled the entire room with such raw masculine energy that there could be no doubts.
In that moment, the room had transformed and become utterly unapologetically male. She'd been attracted to him from the start. She'd been seeing him for months in therapy, talking about intimate details of her life, kink information slipping out at times because he was a “kink-friendly therapist” and that, combined with... well everything... it had been impossible to keep that aspect of her life under wraps. It just hadn't occurred to her that she needed to hide it or protect herself from him.
She'd just been unceremoniously dumped by someone she'd been having a 24/7 power exchange relationship with. She'd really thought he was the one, and she hadn't been handling the breakup well at all—or the reintegration into normal life where she was in charge of everything again. She hated that feeling. It was too much to worry about. Life was too busy, too fast. Too stressful. She just wanted a place where she could hide away and not worry about all of it. To not have fifty thousand things on a never ending to-do list and never enough hours in a day to do them all. That would be heaven.
Over months, Lindsay had gained her trust, and then... he'd dropped the bombshell. He could give her what she needed. At first she'd thought he meant he wanted to keep her as his pet. Such a thought had occurred to her during more than one masturbatory session alone in her apartment after one of their increasingly intense appointments.
He'd never touched her in any inappropriate way. He'd never made any innuendo. He'd been perfectly professional. Despite the age difference, she'd been a bit disappointed when he'd explained the house.
So he hadn't meant to keep her for himself.
But then she'd become excited again by all the new possibilities, and she let her attraction to him cloud her vision. The doctor was the worst mistake she'd made in her life.
The timer went off, jerking her back into the reality where she found, much to her dismay, she was still attracted. And even worse, he was even better half naked than he was in a suit. Even her imagination hadn't been able to do the reality of a shirtless Lindsay Smith justice.
And still, the most he'd ever touched her was minutes ago, standing there holding her while the water had boiled. She didn't want to think about that—to think she could want that. Especially not from him. The betrayal was too deep. There was too much bad history. She'd gotten used to seeing him as a hated piece of background furniture in her life. It was the one comforting constant. She needed it to stay that way.
Shannon took a long, slow breath. She just had to get through tonight. Within a day or two he'd forget about her again. They would go back to polite avoidance.
Lindsay brought the tea over and placed one of the cups and saucers in front of her, then he sat across from her again and took a sip of his own tea.
“Tell me what you need, Shannon.”
Her mouth set stubbornly in a firm line. She wasn't going back to that doctor/patient place with him. She'd trusted him once all those years ago in his office. She could never be such a fool twice. She took a sip of her tea, placed the cup back on the saucer, and stared at the steam rising up off the cup.
“I could beat it out of you.” The suggestion sounded almost casual.
Her gaze snapped up to his. “I don't believe you. You feel too much guilt to ever lay a hand on me.”
All at once his stubbornness seemed to mirror her own as he held her gaze trapped in his. “I'll work through it.”
Another flutter. That deep gravel voice.
She ignored it and drank her tea.
“Why did you take the pills?”
She shrugged.
“We could go back to talking about your needs or we can talk about why you took the pills.”
“Why the fuck do you think I took them? I have nothing. You know I have nothing. You robbed me of a life. You lied to me and...”
He held up a hand. “Stop. I did not lie to you. Everything we promised you was on the menu. And it would have happened.”
“But you knew about Brian!”
This time it was Lindsay who looked away. “Yes. I've treated him. I knew about him. But it was the drugs he was on. Otherwise I don't think...”
“The drugs you gave him. This just keeps being more and more your fault. And you have the nerve to try to bring me back to this world to try to appease your own sense of guilt? You should feel guilty every day for the rest of your life for this. You destroyed me, and now you think you can make it all better? You think you can save me and I'll be oh so grateful? You can fucking forget it. You stay the hell away from me.”
Shannon got up off the stool and started to leave.
&
nbsp; But Lindsay was too fast for her, moving around the counter and to the door far more quickly than she could get there. His large frame blocked her exit. “Where do you think you're going?”
“To my room. To bed.”
“No,” he said slowly. “You are going to my room. To bed.”
“I'm not fucking you.”
“Not tonight you aren't.”
“Not ever.”
“We'll see.”
He stared her down, and she stared back. “This house is full of twenty-year-olds,” Shannon said. “I'm thirty-one. Past my sell-by date. Pick a fresher product.”
A shocked expression crossed the doctor's face. “Are you kidding me? I'm forty-nine. You're already too young for me!”
“Bullshit. I'm sure you were that age when we met. Or older. Are you a vampire?”
“Don't be absurd. I started going gray prematurely. It runs in my family. Everybody thinks I'm older than I am. It's been a boon in my profession but annoying everywhere else. Do you need to see a copy of my birth certificate?”
Shannon rolled her eyes. So she'd thought he was a lot older. Still. His age wasn't why she wasn't going there with him.
“Okay so big deal. Men get distinguished. Women just get old. Just focus on the new girls and leave me alone.”
He gave her a long hard look. Finally he spoke, slowly and calmly. “I'm going to clean up the kitchen. When I get finished I expect to find you in my room, in my bed. If you are anywhere else, you're going to force me to have to take you downstairs to the dungeon and work past my guilt. Is that what you want?”
Shannon looked down. “No.”
“No, Sir. Say it.”
She shook her head.
“Is this really the hill you want to die on, Shannon?”
“No. But you decided to rescue me from the hill I wanted to die on.”
“You aren't leaving this kitchen until you say it. We can stand here all night.”
“Fine. No, Sir. Was that everything you'd hoped it would be?”
“We never should have let your training slip. Go upstairs.”
Lindsay watched her leave. He wasn't sure he should leave her alone even for five minutes right now, but he was certain she wouldn't try anything again tonight. And she didn't have access to pills right now. He doubted she'd attempt anything involving knives. And there were no other ready methods.
Besides, despite her bravado, she was shaken. She probably wouldn't try it again for a while. He'd been watching her carefully since she'd regained consciousness.
Most of the pills had come up fully intact. Most of them hadn't had time to break down. A few of them were probably expired and inert. Lucky.
Still it had been a very close call, but she seemed fine. Physically at least.
Lindsay thought back to that day. He'd been sitting in the conference room with the other three owners, Anton, Gabe, and Brian—deciding Shannon's fate.
“I say we kill her,” Brian said as nonchalantly as if they were discussing some mundane thing like weather.
“No,” Gabe said. He didn't shout or make a scene. It was just a quiet, firm vote against taking her life.
“I already told her we wouldn't kill her,” Anton said. “And she has spa experience. We could use her for waxing the girls.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Please. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to wax a pussy. We can teach the girls how to wax each other. We don't need Shannon. She's a liability.”
“I thought you said you went too far. You said it was the drugs,” Anton said. “Now you want to kill her?”
“I'm not an idiot. I realize nearly killing her over a stupid argument was too much, but I still think it's better to get rid of her and start fresh,” Brian said, seeming more collected and rational but no less sociopathic than normal. “You all know this is the smartest decision. I'm just the only one with the balls to say it out loud.”
When no one jumped in to reaffirm him, Brian sighed and said, “Look we don't have to tell her it's coming, just dose her with a sedative, and I'll take her out clean. Otherwise she's going to scar up bad. If we keep her, it'll cause problems with the other girls. You know I'm right.”
Anton ran a hand through his hair. It seemed he was actually considering this. Finally he said, “Maybe we should kill her. This is a new operation. After Annette acting out today and the others starting a riot, Shannon's damage could be too much for them to handle. We can't afford this first batch of sales to go badly. We don't want to gain a reputation for moving poorly trained merchandise.”
The three of them looked to Lindsay, the only one who hadn't weighed in. He'd remained silent, calculating, observing the rest of the room to decide how best to handle them.
“And you think they would be less upset by us killing her?” Lindsay asked, calmly, betraying nothing.
“Well, we'd fucking lie about it,” Brian said. “Not like we're gonna put out a newsletter announcing her untimely demise.”
“No one is killing anyone,” Lindsay said. He was a few years older than the rest of them, and he used the seniority to his advantage, commanding the room. “I brought her to the house, so I'm responsible for her. And I say no. Killing the girls was never part of this arrangement. If Brian starts killing them, I'm out.”
“Then you'd be the liability, Doc,” Brian said, an evil glint coming to his eyes.
“No one is killing her,” Lindsay said with a growl, rising from his chair and staring Brian down. Then he turned to Anton and Gabe. His voice was hard when he spoke again. “Agreed?”
Gabe nodded, already on board. Anton took a second, but he nodded his agreement as well.
“Brian?” Lindsay prodded. Ultimately they could vote all they wanted but Brian was the dangerous one. He had to be on board or else he might just go rogue and kill her no matter what the others wanted. And they needed his particular skill set to eliminate true threats to the house.
“Oh, all right. Fine. I won't kill her. Maybe it'll work in our favor. She can serve as a cautionary tale of what happens when someone smarts off to me. I do so enjoy being feared.”
Soon after the incident with Brian, Lindsay had tried to treat her, but he hadn't been able to deal with the hatred she sent his way. He perhaps could have if he hadn't deserved every bit of her disgust. He'd convinced himself she was okay, that his presence would make her worse, not better. And then he'd faded out of her life, too cowardly to clean up his own mess.
He'd given her sedatives for years whenever she'd asked, too guilt-ridden to think the logical thought... that maybe they weren't for insomnia. He wondered if this was the first time she'd built up a stash for this method. Had she built up others, but lost her nerve? Or had they expired before she worked up the nerve?
He took the cups and saucers to the sink and rinsed them out. Then he put away all the tea things.
He shouldn't be so fucking attracted to her. It was wrong. She'd been through too much. She was too traumatized.
The first time she'd walked into his office in the city, he'd sat behind his desk and avoided coming out to cover the erection. Few women had such a potent effect on him. And if he wasn't so pissed with Shannon right now, he was sure it would have happened again tonight. Despite everything.
She was beautiful, of course, but it was the way she thought that truly undid him. The way she talked. It was her mind. He'd made excuses for years about why he didn't have a pet of his own—particularly when all the other partners, even Brian of all people, had coupled up. He claimed he didn't have time for one. A lie. He'd said he didn't have the interest in having one. Another lie.
What he didn't have was the patience to deal with a foolish little twit—especially one far too young and too inexperienced at life to ever understand him.
Shannon had been too young from the start, but she was smart. She was so smart, in fact, that he couldn't understand why she hadn't used her mind for a more challenging profession. She could have been a doctor or a lawyer with that mind
. Hell, she could have been a scientist. She was nothing but potential as far as he was concerned.
But still, she'd been too young.
She was one of the first women he'd brought to the house to be trained and sold. But he'd brought her there for himself. He hadn't been able to admit the truth until he'd almost lost her. And then it was too late for honesty because she wouldn't stop looking at him with that raw unfettered revulsion and blame.
But leaving her alone obviously hadn't done her any good. He hadn't stopped to think about the fact that much of her pain now was from loneliness. It was a pain he could have spared her much sooner if he'd been able to work through his own guilt.
He'd been shocked she was so worried about her age.
She was young. Why would she worry about her age? But there was a kernel of truth in it. Every year he was sure the girls they brought in to train looked younger and younger to her. They seemed younger and younger to Lindsay. Getting older would do that to you.
It must be a constant reminder that she'd missed her opportunity.
But she hadn't missed it. He could no longer deny how much he wanted her to be his. He just didn't know if it was possible for her to stop hating him long enough to see that. Or if she even cared. Then again, the way she'd looked at him when she'd come out of the bathroom had given him enough hope and resolve to do the incredibly stupid thing he planned to do next.
When everything was cleaned up, Lindsay folded the dish rag and draped it over the sink and went upstairs to his suite. He had no idea what he was going to do with her.
Actually he had plenty of ideas. The problem was, he didn't know what he could do with her. If all he cared about was what he wanted, he wouldn't have to struggle. He'd go up there and he'd take her. Right now. He'd take her until she begged him never to leave her body empty of him again. He'd make her drunk on him. He'd addict her to the feel of his hands on her flesh... controlling her. Consuming her.
But such an outcome was unlikely. Especially tonight. He'd almost lost her tonight. Again.
It was too quiet when he reached the bedroom. “Shannon?”
“You're a very dirty girl. Do you know what I want to do with this body?” the bird squawked.