He stared down into his glass. “In retrospect, I was using the club, and the submissives I scened with, as a way to stay numb. But I couldn’t seem to maintain that with Cleo. Something was happening between us that went beyond what the three of us had shared when Annette was alive. That freaked me out. Like I was cheating on Annette, which of course is nuts, but…”
He shrugged helplessly. “Before I could get my head on straight, Cleo had up and vanished without a word to me. I had to dig around just to find out where the hell she’d gone.”
“Hey,” Hayden said, placing a hand lightly on Jack’s arm. “We’ve been over this. And like I told you at dinner, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’d lost your wife only six months before. It’s not like there’s some kind of time limit on grieving. It’s different for everyone. And sometimes, being numb is the safest way to be, until you’re strong enough to work through the grief. It’s natural you would gravitate toward Cleo once you started to get back into the swing of things. And just as natural that, precisely because of your shared past, you weren’t ready for a new kind of intimacy. By definition, it was different from what the three of you had shared as scene partners.”
“I guess,” Jack said glumly. “I was so self-absorbed with my own pain. I hate to think I hurt Cleo in the process.”
“I’m sure she understood you were grieving, Jack.” He brightened. “And look at you now. Back in the game, ready to live again. You’re still a young guy, and you’re doing great. I’m proud of how you’ve managed to get yourself back together, and to think about possibilities again. Cleo’s a terrific woman. Between you and me, she’s wasted as Dominique and Grayson’s service slave.”
“I agree entirely,” Jack said emphatically. “If only she’d stayed in London…” He shook his head darkly. “I still can’t believe she did that, taking off without a word to me.”
Hayden shook his head, offering a rueful smile. “Definitely a case of bad timing.” He shrugged. “But you’re here now. You just had an awesome scene, and the night is still young. In fact”—Hayden reached in his pants pocket and retrieved his phone. He tapped at the screen, nodded and looked up again. “I just checked the events app for tonight, and our timing is perfect. In twenty minutes, Cleo is scheduled to serve as Grayson’s demo partner for the new suspension rig we’ve recently hooked up over the submersion tub. Let me shoot him a quick text and see if we can’t do a little meddling here to make sure you’re in on the scene.”
“Wait a second,” Jack said, holding up his hand. “I don’t want to force her into something she’s not ready for.”
Hayden made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Don’t be an idiot, Jack. Don’t forget, Cleo’s no longer just a pleasure sub. She’s a trained slave. She scenes with who she’s told to scene with and gives it her all, regardless of how she might feel about that guy.”
“Ouch,” Jack said, wincing.
Hayden shrugged. “Gotta face the facts, whatever they might be. It’s better to know where you stand so you can decide your plan of attack. You flew halfway around the world to figure this out. Now isn’t the time to back down.”
Jack set down his glass, renewed determination driving him to his feet. “You’re right. Send that text. I’m not going down without a fight.”
Chapter 3
In a flurry of texts, Grayson readily agreed to choose Jack as his volunteer. Twenty minutes later, Jack stood at the back of a small crowd that had gathered around the submersion tank to watch the demonstration.
The new suspension rig consisted of a metal beam suspended by thick, sturdy chains from the ceiling, body harness and wrist cuffs attached. A pulley system allowed the harness to be lowered and adjusted so the subject could be properly and safely secured while standing against the apparatus. Then, by use of an electric winch, she would be lifted into the air and positioned either horizontally or vertically over the tank. A large clock had been mounted on the wall near the tub, the red second hand slowly sweeping its circumference.
Cleo, her long, shiny brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail, stood patiently beside the tank, her back against the rig as Grayson and his slave boy, Brandon, secured and cuffed the naked girl into place. As Brandon looped her ponytail in a loose knot on the top of her head, he leaned close to her ear, whispering something that briefly made her smile. The pretty marks from Jack’s single tail were still visible on her full breasts in a crisscross of pink lines.