He’s so tender. I wonder if anybody else in the world knows just how tender Elias Bricman can be?
I don’t know first-hand how he likes to fuck women down in the basement of the Club. But I have an idea. He’s warned me before. I have asked him for certain things during sex. I have moaned out phrases like, “Choke me” and “Fuck me harder” and “Slap my ass”. And sometimes I wanted it harder than he delivered, and would beg for more.
He would always put me back in my place with a firm, “No, Rochelle. You don’t understand how much farther I can go.” One time he even confessed that he was dangerous. We weren’t fucking at the time. Just talking. And I said I liked being choked. And I do. I don’t want to be suffocated, for fuck’s sake. But I crave his unpredictable dominance when I’m about to come.
So I said that. And he replied, “I will hurt you. I will enjoy hurting you. I am dangerous. So don’t ask me to do that in the middle of things, Rochelle. Don’t ever ask me to do that when we’re wild.”
I believed him. And I never asked again. There was a dark look in his eyes. A raw blaze of rage that scared me a little. But it went away and I forgot about it. Until now.
I won’t ask. I believe there are a lot of things locked deep inside Elias Bricman’s head. And I know for certain that no woman he’s ever fucked down in that Club has ever had the pleasure of him zipping up her dress and whispering his quiet jealousy in her ear.
I am special.
Chapter Twenty - Quin
I catch them in a quiet moment. I came up the stairs, the elevator being used or broken. But either way, I was impatient to get home so I took the stairs, and I catch them.
Adley is wandering down the hallway in a baby walker, a bright red plastic block in her mouth, drool running down her chin. I stoop to look her in the eyes—those blue, blue eyes—and she smiles at me. I’m just about to pick her up and hold her close, really feel the connection, when I hear whispers coming from the bedroom.
“Be right back,” I whisper down to Adley. When I get to the door Rochelle is standing in front of a massive framed, full-length mirror propped against the wall. Bric is standing behind her, almost possessively, as he adjusts her hair. I think he was just zipping up her dress. He leans down into her neck and whispers something I don’t catch. Rochelle laughs, closing her eyes like she’s enjoying the moment.
They are beautiful people.
“That dress,” I say, walking into the bedroom. “I almost want to rip it off you.”
“Do it,” Bric growls.
It comes out way too serious to be a joke, and both Rochelle and I laugh. “Do not touch this dress until after dinner, Mr. Foster. I like it way too much to take it off now.”
I come up next to them, put my arm around Rochelle’s waist, and pull her close to me. Bric reciprocates, his arm sliding past mine, and pulls us both close to him.
We stare at each other in the mirror.
We are beautiful people.
I reach into my coat pocket and pull out my phone. “Hold still a sec,” I say, bringing up the camera. There is no flash and no shutter click as I take the picture. But we all feel the way the moment was just captured.
“We make a nice… thriple.” Rochelle chuckles. “That’s a real word, by the way. I saw it on a Showtime series last year.”
“They have a thriple on Showtime?” Bric asks.
“Mmm-hmm,” Rochelle says. “But it’s not nearly as hot as the one in this room.”
“Stay home and let me fuck you,” Bric moans.
“Later,” I say. “We need this night.”
He knows it’s true. I have a lot of things to say to Rochelle and I need to do that away from Adley and away from Bric. Away from this house. This family, I guess. It’s something between us, and only us.
“Are you ready?” I ask Rochelle. Bric backs away, shaking his head like it’s a damn shame. It probably is. But we’ll be back, and he knows that.
He leaves Rochelle and I alone and a few seconds later we hear Adley squeal as Bric greets her in the hallway.
“Should I be nervous?” Rochelle asks me in the mirror.
I turn, get her coat off the bed, and then hold it open so she can slip her arms inside.
I lean into her ear, the same way Bric was just a few moments ago, and whisper, “No.”
This settles her.
She knows I have something to say, but she also knows I won’t lie to her. Would never lie to her. So she trusts me.
That’s all I’m hoping for at the end of this night. Just a little more trust. On my part, not hers.
We need this night.
I take one more look at us in the mirror, decide this requires another picture, and pull my phone out again. I want to look at both those pictures right now. Compare them. Weigh the merits and pitfalls of each scenario in my head. But it’s premature and we have a night planned anyway, so instead I say, “Ready?”
Bric is sitting on the couch holding Adley in his arms. She’s slapping his cheeks as he makes funny faces. “She’s got bottles in the fridge, Bric,” Rochelle says, slipping into mom mode. “She should only want one, but we might be late. Feed her, give her a bath, and then put her down in about an hour. There’s a jar of baby food on the counter if you want to give that a try.” She laughs, picturing it, I think. “But it’s not necessary. She likes the bottle at night. Call me if you have any questions.”
“I got this,” Bric says through lips being pinched together by Adley’s little fingers. “Go away now. We’re having fun without you already.”
Rochelle lets out a long sigh as I call for the elevator. Whatever was holding it up a few minutes ago has passed, because it comes immediately. We step in and watch the doors close.
Bric and Adley disappear.
“This is the first time, isn’t it?” I ask.
Rochelle nods. “First time leaving her behind. I have a little pain in my heart, Quin. Hold my hand.”
I smile, but take her hand. When the doors open, I lead her to the Suburban and open her door. It’s not classy, and she practically has to climb into it, it’s so high off the ground, but it’s me. It’s us. We’ve done so many fun things with this fucking truck.
I go around to my side, get in, and start it up. Rochelle is biting her finger, like leaving Adley behind really is causing her pain.
“Are you OK?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “I’m not worried about Bric. It just… it feels weird leaving her behind. She’s been my little sidekick for six months, you know?”
“We’re coming back, Rochelle. We can even come back early if you like. But I do have something special planned for after dinner.”
“What?” she asks.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Give me a hint,” she begs.
There is a recognizable brightness in her hazel eyes. Something that has been mostly missing since she came back. Something I’ve missed as well.