“But it’s a really big pleasant surprise, isn’t it?”
“Pleasant? That might not be a strong enough word.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “My sugar mama has finally arrived.”
Molly sobered and looked down at the cover of her book. “I won’t demand any young lovin’ in return. Not that I didn’t—” God, why did she bring that up? “I feel like I have to explain—”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“No, I have to.”
“No.” He took a deep breath. “I know what Club Mephisto is. That place I followed you to. I asked around. You own it?”
Molly felt a wild urge to laugh at that idea, but the moment wasn’t that funny. “I don’t own it. I’m in a relationship with the owner.”
“A relationship.” She could see the veiled distaste, hear the disapproval in his tone. “It’s an S&M place, right? So I guess you’re his, what, slave or whatever?”
“That’s kind of private.”
“But that’s what they do there, isn’t it? He beats on you? Chains you to the wall? That kind of thing?”
“Uh, not exactly.” Of course Eliot wouldn’t know. Of course he’d have misconceptions. She understood it, but it still annoyed her.
“How long have you known this guy?” Eliot’s voice sounded tight. “He’s a guy, I assume? The owner?”
“I’ve known him almost ten years.”
That seemed to take a bit of the bluster out of him. “He knows you’re giving me this money?”
“It’s not his money. But yes, he knows. He encouraged me to.”
“Is he in charge of your money? Don’t give him control of your money, Molly.”
Her lips curved slightly at the urgency in his tone. Eliot was determined to be kind and protective, even now. “Don’t give him my money? Is that the advice of counsel?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry. My husband pretty much fixed it so no one can get at the money but me.”
“Was your husband... Did he know you and this club owner...?”
“Mephisto. His name is Mephisto. Yes, my husband knew him well. Mephisto introduced us.”
“Oh.”
Molly stabbed at her untouched piece of pie. “It’s complicated. It would be hard to explain the whole story.”
“You don’t have to. But if you were with him, why did you date me?”
“I wasn’t with him when I met you.” She screwed her eyes shut. “No, that’s a lie. He was always there, but I wanted to be sure he was what I wanted. Or maybe...I hoped you would prove to me that I didn’t want to be with him.”
Eliot looked as puzzled as she felt when it came to Mephisto. “If you don’t want to be with him, why are you with him now?”
“Because I have to be.” Eliot’s face went hard at that answer. Molly backtracked, holding up a hand. “No. Okay. A better way to say it is that I have to be with him because he’s one of the few people who gets me.”
“If you gave me more time, maybe I could have gotten you too,” he said with a touch of reproach.
“Oh, Eliot. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like... you meet a lot of people in life but there are people you meet who don’t just become friends or lovers. They become this deeper, more mysterious thing. There’s something about them you can’t forget, can’t let go of. This almost painful connection. That’s how it is with him and me.”
Eliot traced over the edge of the check she’d given him, over her scrawled note. “I thought we had a connection like that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forget you.”
“You will. You’ll be studying. Meeting smart, well-adjusted law school girls.”
He made a face. “Is that what a ‘nice’ guy like me ends up with? A well-adjusted girl?”
Molly cut her eyes at him. “If you’re lucky. Crazy sugar mamas like me are overrated. Be glad you’ll never have to learn that firsthand.”
Eliot looked at his watch, then back at her. It was time for him to go, time for this strange, affecting interlude to be over.
“I’m so glad I met you,” she said. “I won’t forget you. And I wish you all the best.”
Eliot reached across the table and clasped her hand in a warm grip. “If you ever need anything... If that man doesn’t treat you right...”
Molly shook her head. “He’s a good person. Don’t worry.”
“His name is Mephisto,” he pointed out. “He’s named after the devil incarnate. The Dark Lord.”
“Ha,” said Molly. “His real name is Jay. Or Jason. Something like that. Wait. I think it’s Jayden.”
“You’ve known him for ten years and you don’t know his real name?” Eliot shook his head. “You will need a good lawyer someday. I have a mission now. I’m going to work real hard to hone my skills.”
It felt right to end with mirth and teasing. Someday some lucky woman would fall in love with Eliot, and Molly wouldn’t begrudge her his sweetness, his smile. Molly needed a different kind of sweetness, a fact she’d finally come to terms with.
She would miss Eliot, but she understood now they were never meant to be.
*** *** ***
Ah. God. Where was she?
Stupidly, Mephisto had warned Molly to take things slow, never considering how difficult it would be for him to follow his own advice.
Not that they weren’t growing closer, finding intimacy. He played with her every day, after breakfast, or when she got home from her volunteer jobs or the violin lessons she’d begun again. He tied her up, toyed with her, gave her cage time and then took her out and fucked her into a puddle. But that was all it was between them for now, playing. Carefully choreographed scenes for feeling out boundaries and becoming familiar again. He was going slow for her, to make the transition smoother and kinder. She was fun to play with, to control, not that he ever did anything malicious to her. No, everything he did—even the cruelest things—came from his heart, the heart she’d taken over, moved into, and claimed as her own.
All he could think about was pulling her deeper and deeper into submission to him.
He wasn’t going to force her into anything more encompassing, though, until she was ready. He was determined not to give her any ammunition to throw in his face later. He was giving her the time and space she needed, and he didn’t mind because he knew she was steadily working her way to him. She was squaring things away with lawyers, with family. She was reading and sitting for long hours thinking and writing in a journal.
She was getting her ducks in a row. They both were. Mephisto had released his other play-slaves, and told his casual partners that he was experimenting with monogamy for now. That wasn’t to say he’d never share Molly once she was his, or bring other partners into their dynamic, but now, at the beginning of what might be forever, they both had to be unfettered and available to one another one hundred percent.
Unfortunately that involved Mephisto staying back and letting Molly work out her relationships too, like smoothing the rough edges she’d left with Eliot. Every Friday she set out to find him, and Mephisto had to force himself to let her go. He’d busy himself with club work, invoices, promotion. Today he was party planning, sending emails and making calls about a shibari-themed play night coming up in a couple months. It wasn’t like the vanilla guy was going to win her back somehow. Mephisto told himself that—repeatedly—but there was still the worry she wouldn’t return to him. That she’d call Mephisto and say, “I made a mistake. We’re compatible after all. Can you send over my stuff?”
From what Mephisto knew, Eliot was a stand up guy, which was the worst part of all of it. If Molly wanted him, Mephisto would have to usher her into the man’s arms and smile the whole time he was doing it. Jesus Christ, it would suck.
“Mephisto.”
He was startled out of his fretful thoughts by her voice. He looked up to find her walking through the play space toward him. He searched her expression and found some new softness there, some relief. She’d seen Eliot...and she?
??d come back to him. He held out his hand and pulled her close when she came near. He settled her in his lap and tilted her head back, threading his fingers in her soft dark hair. “Little Molly,” he breathed against her lips.
He squeezed her breasts as she huddled against him, worked a hand down her front to grope her pussy through her jeans. When she was his, really his, her clothes would come off when they were alone together, when they were at home. He didn’t like them coming between him and Molly’s hot, wet pussy, her hard, thrusting nipples. He pushed her up off his lap with a grunt.
“Undress.”
He stood at the same time to take off his shirt and kick off his jeans. “Did you see him?”