Chapter 95 #13: People Hold Grudges
I stay on the terrace for a long time, trying to steady my heavy breathing. The cool air doesn’t help cool the heat running through me. I press my hands against the railing, as my heartbeat rages in my chest. How fucking dare he rile me up like this and just... leave?
I take a deep breath and go back inside. The ballroom is still full. If anything, it’s louder – more champagne, more laughter. Vincent sees me right away. He watches my face as he walks over with Lucy, who’s holding his hand and a half-eaten cookie.
“There you are,” he says, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Everything okay? You look flushed.”
“Just needed some air,” I say, forcing a smile and messing up Lucy’s hair. “This one’s been enjoying the sweets.”
Lucy grins, crumbs on her chin. “Daddy said I could have two more if I don’t tell you.”
I give Vincent a fake glare. “Traitor.”
He laughs and puts an arm around my waist. “Guilty. But seriously... are you sure you’re okay?
I nod my head and lean into him for a second. “I am. But would you mind terribly if we leave now? I have a splitting headache.”
“Sure thing,” he says, already gathering our things.
By the time we get in the car, Lucy is asleep against Vincent’s shoulder. The drive home is quiet and calm, his hand resting on my thigh.
The next morning, sunlight comes through the curtains while I drink coffee in the kitchen. Lucy talks nonstop about the gala. Vincent flips pancakes. My phone buzzes on the counter. I look, half expecting something from David, but it’s just work. Still, last night left me unsettled.
“Vincent, I’m going to the study for a call,” I say, kissing his cheek. “Client stuff.”
He nods, focused on the stove. “Take your time. Lucy and I have a pancake-eating contest planned.”
I close the study door and call Sel, because if I do not speak to someone who knows me outside this careful performance I call a marriage, I am going to start pacing like a caged animal and Vincent will notice.
She answers on the third ring.
“Nora,” Sel says, warm and amused. “You finally remembered I exist.”
I smile despite myself and sink onto the couch, curling my legs under me. “I remember you exist every time I’m tempted to burn something down and need to remind myself I'm a civilized adult.”
She laughs. “That checks out. Are you calling to confess to a felony or just to hear my voice?”
“Both, potentially,” I say. “How’s Chicago?”
“Cold. Efficient. Annoyingly functional,” she replies. “Marcus loves it, which means I tolerate it.”
“I can picture you already,” I say. “Pretending you’re not thriving. And how’s Marcus? I heard he opened that new bar downtown.”
“We’re good, babe. The place is busy every night with craft cocktails, live jazz, the whole thing. I help manage when I’m not consulting for other clubs. It’s slower than the Red Room, but we like it. How about you? I saw the gala photos online. You three look like the perfect family.”
I smile and trace the edge of my desk. “We do, don’t we? Lucy stole the show. But things are… complicated.”
“I figured.” she responds. “I can hear it in your voice. Spill, baby girl. Who’s got your panties in a bunch?”
I lean my head back against the cushion. “David is back.”
There is a pause on the line. A long one.
“David Reid,” Sel says slowly.
“Yes.”
“Back back?”
“In the flesh,” I confirm. “Suit, arrogance, and perfectly timed entrances.”
“Damn. Talk about panties in a bunch.” Another pause. “And Vincent?”
“Knows,” I say. “Of course he knows.”
Sel exhales. “Jesus, Nora.”
“That was also my reaction,” I say lightly. “Internally. Externally I smiled and went to a gala.”
She snorts. “So what happened?”
“Everything,” I say. “And nothing. David showed up with a fiancée, and made sure I saw.”
“Did it work?”
I close my eyes. “Unfortunately. ”
She shifts on her end. I can hear the faint clink of glass. “Before you deflect again, tell me something. How are you actually holding up?”
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. “I’m... functional.”
“That is not exactly an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
Sel sighs. “Alright. Then let me distract you. Did you hear about the Red Room?”
“What about it?” I ask, keeping my tone even.
“There was an incident,” she says. “About a week ago.”
I sit up. “What kind of incident?”
“Not sure on details. But from what I hear, someone broke in after hours, trashed the place a little, and went through drawers and files. Nothing was taken though, no money, no equipment. It felt more like they were searching for something specific.”
I adjust my legs, frowning. “Probably just kids or an angry ex-client. The security there is good. They wouldn’t have gotten far.”
“Maybe,” Sel says, sounding unsure. “But my source said it was clean – fast in and out, no fingerprints. Why go through files at an old BDSM club? What could they be looking for?”
I shrug, even though she can’t see me. “Who knows? People hold grudges. Talking about it makes me miss those days, though. The Red Room was much simpler. I controlled what I could, let go of what I couldn’t. No boardrooms, no family photos for the press. Just me, the mask, and my clients.”
She laughs quietly. “You were unstoppable in that mask, Mistress. Speaking of unstoppable... how’s the sabotage plan going? You and Vincent still–”
The door opens before she finishes. Vincent steps in, with a soft smile on his face. “Hey, beautiful. Pancakes are ready if you’re hungry.”
I hold up a finger and mouth one minute. “Sel, I have to go. We'll continue this later.”
“Okay, but call me soon. And be careful with David... he always knew how to get under your skin.”
We hang up. I set the phone down as Vincent walks over and leans down to kiss my cheek. His lips are warm. I turn my head to kiss him properly.
“Mmm, you taste like maple syrup,” I murmur.
He laughs, pulls me up from the chair, and wraps his arms around me. “Lucy’s watching cartoons. We’ve got a few minutes.”
His hands slide down my back, cupping my ass as he kisses me harder. I relax into him. Vincent is good at this – gentle, careful, making me feel loved. I love him for it, the steady kind of love that grows over time and keeps our life solid. But as his fingers trace my spine and start unbuttoning my blouse, I feel a deeper craving stir – the need for something rougher, and a little more commanding.
He moves me to the desk, clearing space with one hand while the other opens my shirt, showing my lace bra.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, kissing down my neck to my collarbone.
I arch into him, hands in his hair, but my mind begins to wander into the familiar feeling of David’s firm hands, holding me in place instead of caressing.
Stop it, Nora, I chastise myself.
Vincent’s kisses are soft on my breasts, his tongue circling my nipple through the lace. I gasp, but in my head it’s David’s mouth, demanding, biting just enough to make me whimper.
Dammit
He lifts me onto the desk, pushes my skirt up, hooks his fingers in my panties, and pulls them aside.
“I love how wet you get for me,” he says, voice rough as he kneels between my legs.
I close my eyes and nod, feeling guilty because I know that wetness isn’t for him. The picture in my mind is of David’s dark hair between my thighs, his hands gripping my hips hard as he takes over. Vincent’s tongue moves slowly, building the pleasure gently, and it feels good, but I imagine David’s control, the way he’d hold me down, keeping just at the edge of release until I beg.
My breath catches as Vincent slides two fingers inside me, curling them perfectly, his mouth sucking softly.
“Vincent,” I moan, but in my head it’s David fingers inside of me, his eyes on mine, controlling every sound I make.
The tension builds fast. I grip the edge of the desk as my body begins shaking. Vincent speeds up, his other hand steady on my thigh. But I’m drifting further away now, picturing David’s rougher touch, his voice low and growling my name, as he pushes me over.
The orgasm hits hard and unexpected. Pleasure rushes through me, and I cry out before I can stop myself.
"Fuck, yes David!”
The name slips out loud in the room. Vincent stops completely. I open my eyes, horror hitting me as I realize what I just said.
The room goes utterly and completely still.