Chapter Nineteen - Rochelle
I dress in front of the full-length mirror as Adley plays in the new walker Bric bought. Her little socked toes do their best to maneuver the thing, but the hardwood floors are clean and slick. There is a maid, I guess. A team of them who come with the loft. Bric says they’re on salary because he was renting this place out by the night before we moved in together. And he feels bad taking the contract away from them, so they will come twice a week from now on. The floors are spotless.
Bric should be here in a little bit to babysit. Quin said he got stuck doing a conference call at the last minute so won’t be home until seven or so. But I don’t care what time he gets here. I have a whole night of Quin to myself.
I love being with Bric and last night’s lovemaking was exceptional, even for us. But I came home for Quin. I haven’t lost sight of that goal. Not one bit.
Quin sent the dress I’m wearing. This is something both he and Bric have done many times in the past. Especially Bric, who likes to control what I wear to the parties he takes me to. Quin less so, only a few times. But we’ve been apart for a year, so he probably has a fancy restaurant in mind and doesn’t want me showing up for our date underdressed, and in order to avoid an awkward moment at the beginning of the night, he has provided me with his wish.
I am happy to oblige.
The dress is red and long. It has a strapless sweetheart neckline and it’s made of the most luxurious silk my fingertips have ever had the pleasure of caressing. It came with a thin diamond belt to heighten awareness of my waist. I am sure the diamonds are real, as these men do not do fake anything, but they cannot possibly be real.
They’re real.
I had forgotten how much my men like to buy jewelry.
It also came with a platinum choker, diamond earrings set in white gold, and a white gold cuff bracelet.
And the black shoes have red soles.
He also provided me with a black cashmere evening coat with the most beautiful red silk-covered buttons, because it’s snowing again.
Even though it’s Tuesday and we are going nowhere special, I’m ridiculously excited about our date.
The elevator dings and I catch Adley turning her head to see who is here. She’s made her way into the hallway, but I can see her smile in profile as Bric walks up to her and drops to his knees to have a chat.
“What are you doing, pumpkin?”
She giggles.
“We have a date tonight,” Bric coos, lifting her out of the walker. “Your mom thinks I set her up with Quin to make her happy, but I didn’t. I just wanted you all to myself so I can tell you a bedtime story using fake voices and no one will hear me.”
I shake my head at him, laughing. “I have no idea who you are right now.”
Bric whistles low as he looks me over. “Wow. That’s some dress.”
“Zip me, will you? Quin won’t be here for another twenty minutes and I want to be ready.”
He sets Adley back into her walker and her socked feet get busy trying to move again. She gets some purchase and follows him into the bedroom.
I turn my back to him as he walks up behind me, lifts my hair carefully aside, making it drape over my shoulder, and then leans into my neck for a warm kiss. One hand is on my breast, the other flat against my stomach.
I melt backwards, enjoying his touches.
“I’m jealous,” he whispers into the shell of my ear.
“You are not,” I say back, my heart picking up a faster beat. “Elias Bricman doesn’t do jealous.”
“But if he did, he’d be jealous now. You look beautiful. I will have to rethink my choice for tomorrow night. There’s no way I’m letting Quin make you prettier than I will.”
“Men.” I chuckle.
He backs off, slightly, and reaches for the zipper low down on my back. His fingers touch my bare skin for just a moment, and I sigh.
It’s dangerous to love him so much. I know it’s a different kind of love than what I feel for Quin. It’s more like lust. But still, it’s dangerous.
A part of me is wondering if we’ll ever leave this game. A part of me is wondering if I want to. A part of me is terrified about those parts of me.
I am here for Quin. I came back for Quin. I want Quin.
And yet I want this too.
I have become Elias, I think. Addicted to the game. Addicted to the familiarity of the three of us. Addicted to the way they make me feel when we make love together. I’d forgotten that while I was gone. The last year or so of the time I was playing, Bric was emotionally absent. Content to visit me on his days and nights. Content to take me out to parties and events. Content to let Quin have me in a special way. To claim me, to own me, to love me just for me.
But now he seems… invested. I think it’s because of Adley, to be honest. I think he’s bonded with her. Correction, I know he has. Adley has changed the dynamic in ways I hadn’t thought of when I decided to come home. She has changed the way Quin thinks about me, for sure. Adley was the reason he was so angry with me those first few days. Missing out on my pregnancy and her birth was a blow he won’t easily forget. Forgive, yes. Maybe. But forget? Sex is not enough to make him forget.
And now Adley is the reason Bric is invested, I’m sure of it.
What does that mean for the long-term plan? I admit, Quin doesn’t seem to be thinking about me as his sole partner. He is invested too, but in a different way. He’s invested in the us. Even more so than he was last year when I left.
Am I setting myself up for failure? Am I pushing the possibility of me and Quin away, and replacing it with the surety of me, and Quin, and Bric?
Bric finishes the zip, gathers up my hair, and places it down my back just the way he found it.
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.