Chapter 22

Dawn lightened the sky, though given it was overcast, the sun rising meant only a paler shade of gray clouds.

Colette took a careful step, watching the door. She could see a slice of Landon's room, including half the window, through the glass in the connecting door.

Gingerly she lowered her heel, gradually shifting her weight onto her front foot before lifting the back.

The image of a burglar sneaking around on their toes in all black was part of the zeitgeist, but that was a terrible way to walk, especially in an old building. Keeping all the weight on the balls of the feet compacted the pressure. In modern buildings this rarely mattered, but in older buildings walking like that guaranteed squeaky floors.

She took another step, moving slowly, testing each board before committing and shifting her weight. Her goal was the hall door, and though it wasn't far from the bed to the wall, it took her nearly ten minutes.

Carefully, she turned the knob, easing the door open.

She told herself not to look back, but she wasn't strong enough to heed the internal warning.

From her position half out the door, she could see a triangular slice of Landon's bed through the window in the connecting door. He was sprawled under the covers on his stomach, one knee bent.

He'd fallen asleep about an hour ago. She knew because she'd been lying in bed listening to him move around since their fight in the hall. Landon didn't know how to move quietly, or possibly he was just so big that no strategic stepping would keep the floor from creaking under him. The bed too had made noise, groaning and squeaking as he settled in it. He'd tossed and turned for a long time before everything went silent.

Colette slid out the door, pulling it mostly closed, but not latching it behind her.

Everything was quiet, Club Alibi officially closed, no faint thump from the DJ's baseline filtering through. She didn't know if any of the playrooms were occupied by people who elected to spend the night, but for now it felt deserted.

Colette went to the bathroom, wincing when she sat on the toilet. The cool seat felt good against her ass, the pressure of sitting not so much.

She grabbed her toiletries bag, which she'd stashed in a small cabinet, wedging it in between extra rolls of toilet paper, bottles of toy wash, and a cardboard box of alcohol wipes.

She let muscle memory take over as she popped on a headband and worked through her nighttime skin care. Her mind was blessedly blank now. The hours lying and listening had been torture as she'd run through the full gamut of emotions—rage to fear, betrayal to longing, shame to arousal.

The arousal was the hardest to deal with. She was mildly disgusted with herself for still being turned on after everything that had happed. It was understandable given the intense level of sexual frustration, but still...

Colette brushed her teeth and worked her hair into a loose French braid along the back of her head to keep it from getting tangled or frizzy, careful of the smaller, tight braid she always had in her hair at the nape of her neck.

She wasn't ready to go back to her bedroom yet, so once she left the bathroom she turned towards the kitchenette. The floor was cool beneath her feet, and her bare arms and legs pebbled with cold. Taking a risk, she gingerly opened the door to one of the playrooms. There was no one inside, so she grabbed one of the carefully rolled blankets tucked into a trunk by the door. One of her prep assignments for tonight had been gathering every blanket in the club—from both the main area and the play rooms—and washing them. Colette and Kitten had carefully rolled them once they were dry and stocked each room.

She wrapped the soft blanket around her shoulders, holding it closed with one hand. The instant warmth was delicious and she snuggled into it as she kept walking.

"Sub drop?"

Colette froze, a shriek of surprise trapped in her throat, unuttered thanks to years of practice staying quiet while sneaking about.

Andrei was leaning against the wall in the short connecting hallway that led into the main part of the club. Because he was wearing all black, and motionless, Colette hadn't noticed him as she walked past. An amateur mistake.

Unlike Landon, Andrei was silent as he moved towards her. Though that could be attributed to his bare feet, given the way he held himself, she suspected it was deliberate and he could be worryingly quiet when he wanted to be.

Colette tightened her hold on the blanket, which was mounded over her shoulders and fell to her knees.

"Sub what?" she asked.

"Sub drop. When a sub's emotions bottom out after an intense scene."

Ah, yes. She understood what he was talking about though she hadn't heard that term before, or at least didn't remember it. "Are you asking if I'm feeling sad or upset about my scene?"

There was something about Andrei that was dangerous in an entirely different way from Landon. If Landon was a wolf, focused and predatory, Andrei was a jaguar, hiding and waiting high in a tree for the opportunity to pounce.

"Actually, I'm asking if you're depressed, or feel anxious about what happened in your scene." Andrei offered her his arm.

Colette stared at the black sleeve of his dress shirt, the old-fashioned gesture entirely unexpected.

Working a hand out from under the blankets, she rested her fingers on his forearm.

Together they walked the few meters to the kitchenette door. Andrei opened it for her, then gallantly gestured her in. The room was small and utilitarian, with no real cooking facilities, but it did have a fridge and microwave. A counter with a sink spanned the wall across from the door. Two kettles, a toaster, and a slow cooker were lined up in a neat row.

The slow cooker had taken her by surprise, until she saw it was used for towels. One of Toy's prep jobs was to roll up clean washcloths, put them in the slow cooker, and add a bit of water. Warm, damp washcloth available on demand for cleanup when a cold baby wipe wouldn't do was a lovely idea.

Colette grabbed the kettle, filling it at the sink.

There was a small two-person table shoved against one wall, the chairs mismatched. Compared to the rest of the club, this room was haphazard, but its size also made it cozy.

While she waited for the water to boil, she collected a mug from the cabinet under the counter, a small spoon, and a box of tea bags.

Andrei took a seat at one of the chairs, his long legs stretched out, his elbow on the table.

"I saw you throw a butt plug at Landon's head."

An unexpected laugh burst out of Colette, and she turned, leaning against the counter to look at Andrei.

"Hearing it aloud, it sounds comical," she said. "Throwing butt plugs."

"I assume he deserved it."

Whatever amusement she felt vanished. "What happened between Landon and me was…" Colette was rarely at a loss for words, but she had no idea how to finish that sentence.

"Was it a mismatch of play styles and needs?" Andrei asked.

The mellow tone, as if the answer didn't matter, made it easier for her to speak.

"No. For kink we're…well matched." It was more than that. Every touch had been electric. Their scene had been slow and methodical yet full of heat, his control over both her body and the situation absolute.

"Then he said something stupid."

Colette raised a brow, blowing across the surface of her tea. "Or I did."

"No, it was him. You—" Andrei waved his hand at her. "—test his control."

"What does that mean?"

"I think you know."

"I assure you I don't."

"It means that Landon is cold when he tops. Not with you. There's no…distance…between you." Andrei hesitated, as if he wasn't sure that was the right word. English was clearly neither of their first languages.

But Colette understood. Andrei wasn't talking about physical distance, but emotional distance.

And he was right. She'd already tagged him as dangerous, but now she added perceptive to that list.

"Sceneing together was a mistake. There's too much history between us."

"From what he said, you barely knew each other," Andrei countered.

"And time guarantees a deeper connection?" she shot back.

Something crossed Andrei's face, a flash of grief and rage that made her fingers tighten around the cup.

"No, it doesn't." Andrei shifted so he sat sideways in the chair, back against the wall and legs outstretched.

She'd have to step over him to get to the door. Was it a deliberate block? She thought it was. Andrei didn't seem like the kind of man to do something like that accidentally.

"Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?" Andrei said.

"Why should I? It has nothing to do with you."

"Because I want to know. Because I think you need to talk. Because you'd be talking to a Dom, not an agent." He raised a brow with that last statement.

Colette sighed and took her tea over to the table, dropping into the other chair. She yelped, half rising as her abused butt made contact with hard wood. Without comment, Andrei went to the refrigerator and pulled a large gel ice pack out of the small freezer.

She tensed as he approached her, but all he did was situate the ice pack on the chair, then hold the back of it for her as if they were at a restaurant.

"Normally I'd wrap it in a towel, but you've got the blanket."

Gingerly Colette sat. The ice pack acted as a cushion, and after a moment the cold penetrated through the blanket and cooled her tender skin. She sighed in relief.

"What did he spank you with?" Andrei asked.

"His hand."

Colette wasn't really sure why she was answering Andrei's questions and telling him personal things. They weren't friends, were barely acquaintances, and every interaction up to now had been combative.

"Do you need more aftercare?" he asked.

"We didn't do any aftercare, for either of us." One thing she'd learned over the years was that Doms too needed aftercare for a scene, but were much less likely to get it or ask for it.

"Colette." There was quiet command in Andrei's voice.

She stiffened, because it felt too intimate, him saying her name.

Andrei twisted his chair so the back was against the wall, then sat, leaned back, and patted his leg. "Come here."

Colette's throat was dry, but she stood. She wasn't even sure why she was obeying. She should smirk and make a dismissive comment, or laugh it off like it was a joke.

She stopped with her bare toes nearly touching the tips of Andrei's.

"Just comfort," he said softly, though there was still something dangerous in his gaze.

Colette straddled his thighs and sank down. It was intensely intimate, to sit on his lap, legs spread like this, but this way her weight was mostly on her inner thighs. Strong arms gently circled her, and she leaned into his chest. She pulled the blanket up under her cheek as she rested her head on his shoulder, face turned away. With her hips back by his knees and her arms tucked between them, the intimacy was minimized.

One hand moved soothingly over her back. She tensed, but only for a moment. There was comfort in his touch, nothing more. A Dom who saw a sub in need.

Colette's throat went tight with emotion. She cleared it, several times, then took a deep breath.

"Tell me." Andrei's words puffed against her hair.

"He questioned me."

"Questioned?"

"He wasn't my…" She'd almost said "master." Merde. "Wasn't my Dom. He switched to being Agent Malik. In the middle of our scene."

Andrei's hand moved from the base of her spine to her shoulders and back down.

"He waited until I was very submissive, then he asked me where I got the diamond."

Andrei laughed softly.

Colette narrowed her eyes. "I'm glad you find this amusing."

"It's funny," he protested. "How stupid it was."

Oddly, that made her feel better.

"To use a scene to try and question an uncooperative informant…" Andrei shook his head. "I thought he was smarter than that."

Not better, not more principled. Smarter.

"So did I." More than that, she thought he respected her enough not to use her submission against her.

"Like I said, you rattle him." Andrei gripped her arms and gently helped her sit up so they faced one another. "It's because he's halfway in love with you."

Colette stared at Andrei, shocked.

He raised a brow. "You're not surprised. You're smarter than that."

Colette pushed off his lap and returned to her chair, the ice pack once more a sweet relief. She looked down at her tea. The comforting touch, brief as it was, had done its job. She felt centered and clear-headed.

Andrei was right. Her shock wasn't so much at his words, but the fact that he'd said them.

There was no denying that she and Landon had an emotional connection. A messy, complicated connection, and she hadn't allowed herself to define it.

"I could fall in love with him," she said softly, needing to confess. "I might already be in love with him."

"Even after he was a fool and fucked up?"

"Yes, because part of me thinks he only did it because he's worried about me. Because he wants to protect me." She grimaced. "And I'm the fool, because protecting me is his job, nothing more."

"Protecting you just means keeping you in the club where no one can get to you. Collaring you, sceneing with you, fighting with you…those aren't necessary to protect you. That's because he wants you, because he needs to touch you, and most of all because he knows you needed to submit."

"If he cares for me, even a little, then it's worse that he betrayed my trust."

"But you said yourself, you think he did it out of fear for you. And maybe frustration." Andrei rubbed his lips with two fingers. "You frustrate him."

Colette took a sip of her tea, trying to sort through her feelings. The anger and hurt from earlier had faded. While lying in bed, what she focused on from their scene wasn't the moment when he asked about the diamond, but the feel of his hand on her back and neck, holding her in place as he spanked her.

It was that connection that fed her soul, while the kink quieted her mind and satisfied her physical cravings.

"I could fall in love with him," she said again. "A man who will probably try and arrest me at the end of this."

"Only try?"

Colette raised her cup, looking at Andrei over the rim. "None of you are good enough to catch me."

Andrei laughed, a warm deep sound that sent a little thrill through her. If things were different, she'd ask him to scene with her. It would be intense and kinky, but not earth-shatteringly emotional.

Maybe that was what she needed. The emotional release of BDSM, without the emotional weight associated with Landon.

She tried to form the words, to ask Andrei to be her Dom tomorrow night. That would satisfy the arousal that still thrummed through her. She'd gotten a spanking and some anal play, but no orgasms, and she longed for that ultimate form of release.

Submitting to Andrei made sense…and the idea repulsed her. She'd taken his comfort, but there had been no skin to skin contact between them.

She didn't want anyone but Landon to touch her intimately.

"Is BDSM sexual for you?" Andrei asked. "Or just power and bondage?"

"Sexual."

"Did Landon let you come?"

Colette grimaced. "We didn't get that far."

"Climb on my lap with those legs spread and I'll take care of you." Andrei held up one hand, wiggling his fingers.

It was tempting, but the only fingers she wanted playing in her pussy were Landon's. Colette shook her head.

Andrei tapped his palm against the table a few times, clearly thinking. "Then you need to fuck him," he said.

Colette sat back, mock gasping. "I never thought of that."

"I mean right now. You need to fuck him quick and simple."

There were a thousand reasons she couldn't. Shouldn't. And yet…

"I told him to never touch me again," she said slowly.

"Then you touch him."

Colette looked and Andrei, who smiled a wicked grin. The devil prompting her to abandon sense and do the depraved, audacious thing.

"I'll need cuffs and straps," she said slowly.

Andrei stood. "Come with me."