I had done way, way too much for him the other night, not that I admitted that to my friend.
We turned our attention back to the lock’s pieces, and my metal design background eventually helped me figure out how it went together. My sweet but useless sidekick kept me company while I took out the old lock and installed the new one.
“Here’s the thing,” Andrew said, holding the lock while I went at the door with a screwdriver. “Mr. Recaro—”
“Why do you always call him Mr. Recaro? Two weeks in Vail, and you’re not on a first name basis?”
“His first name is Maximo, but he only lets me call him Mr. Recaro, or Sir.”
The “Sir” sounded familiar. I sucked in a breath. “How kinky.”
“Girl, you don’t even know. It’s so sexy, how he knows what he wants, how he demands and takes and uses me for his own fulfillment. It’s the submissive thing. When I’m with him, I feel so grateful to be able to serve him.”
“You’re a natural submissive. I’m sure he realizes that, and values it.”
A tinge of pink colored Andrew’s cheeks. “It makes me feel special to serve him. He made me feel special, even though I was the one at his beck and call. Does that make any sense? Why do I enjoy giving myself up completely to someone else? What does that say about me?”
The lock was in. I clicked the bolt back and forth. “Maybe it’s a thrill-seeking thing,” I said. “Or a way of coping. Sometimes it’s nice to not have to be in charge.”
“I don’t know.” He watched as I tested the key. “I guess it’s not crucial to understand the reasons. I just know it turns me on. God, it makes me feel high, to be under someone’s control, and to please that person. Is that weird? It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“No, you’re just kinky. It is what it is.”
Andrew pushed his curls back, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “The way he looked at me after our scenes… I can’t even describe it. The way he kissed me… Pleasing him makes me feel like I’m high on drugs or something. I’m not falling in love,” he said at my exasperated look. “I’m not. But I really respect him. He was good to me and I was good to him. I hope we’ll keep seeing each other.”
“I’m sure you will. I’m glad you had fun.”
His smile turned wistful. “I know he’s just a client, and that this is just for now, but I hope I meet someone like Maximo someday and have a real relationship. A real Dom/sub relationship that goes on all the time.”
“You’ll find your match,” I said, trying to sound like I knew what the fuck I was talking about. “You’re too kind and generous to spend your life alone. Someone is going to appreciate you one day, and give you everything you need, and you’ll live happily ever after.”
“You think so?”
“I hope so,” I said, even though I didn’t believe in happily ever after. Now that the lock was in, I took the spare key and handed it to Andrew. “I want you to have this. You’re my best friend in New York. Maybe my best friend anywhere. I’ve always wanted someone to give a spare key to.”
“Oh gawd.” His smile widened as he took it. “I’ll treasure it forever.”
I rolled my eyes. “You want something to drink?”
We sprawled on my couch with a couple of sloppy cocktails. Andrew launched into more Vail stories, apologizing for all the details. I didn’t mind as much as he thought I did. The escorting was obviously working for him right now, and if he was going to be a good friend to me, I had to be a good friend in return. I had to support him to the best of my ability, and keep an eye on him in case things started to go wrong.
Keep an eye on him, like Price kept an eye on you?
I frowned and shook my head. Not the same. Andrew’s voice drifted off mid-story as he realized I wasn’t listening. He was so sensitive to my mood swings. If he wasn’t gay, he’d be the perfect boyfriend.
“Still thinking about him?” he asked in a hopelessly gentle voice. “You were right to tell him to fuck off. But it must have been hard.”
“Honestly, it wasn’t that hard. He acted like an overbearing, obnoxious prick. I don’t know what I ever saw in him, how I got so emotionally attached. I feel so stupid now.” I leaned back against the cushions and put up my feet. “I romanticized him. It was the poetry, maybe. It made everything seem more romantic and beautiful than it was.”
“You were a different person back then, weathering a difficult time in your life. Don’t beat yourself up. Hey, at least you know his name now.”