Decadent Master. Tawny Taylor

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СКАЧАТЬ had a really hard time discussing. “The little things are what get me going. A soft touch on the small of my back. A wicked grin when no one else is looking. A sexy note left in an unexpected place.” She sighed. “I don’t understand. Why would anyone need all that other stuff—whips and chains? It’s just not sexy. Or loving.”

      Her therapist, Susan Smith, took a moment before responding, “How does it make you feel, learning that your fiancé found those things sexy?”

      “How do you think?” Wynne blinked open her eyes for the sole purpose of rolling them. God, this counselor was already starting to sound like the last one, and the one before that. Did they all share the same script or something? Where could a girl go to get some real help? “Confused.”

      “Anything else? How did you feel after learning he was gay, on top of everything else?”

      “I don’t know.” She closed her eyes again and let her mind go back to that awful day, which hadn’t started awful at all. It had been a pretty April day. The air smelled really good, like grass and earth. The sun was warm. They were walking in the park, talking about the last minute details of their wedding plans. The puppy they’d just adopted was scampering around their ankles, nipping at their shoelaces.

      John had been quiet lately, and she had been worried about him. She kept prodding him to tell her what was bothering him, until he’d finally confessed everything, there in the park, next to the jungle gym. He admitted he was having an affair with one of his coworkers—a guy—and had been living a secret life for almost two years.

      Her life didn’t just fall apart. It blew up in her face.

      “I guess I felt empty inside,” she confessed. “Numb, at least for a while.”

      “What about now? Do you still feel empty and numb?”

      “No. Now I’m confused, wondering if I did something wrong…to make him turn to men. I’m hurt that he kept so many secrets from me. Shocked he did so for so long. I didn’t have a clue.” She met Susan’s brown-eyed gaze. “I honestly thought we were happy. How could I not know things were so wrong? Am I that oblivious? That blind?”

      The counselor gave Wynne an encouraging smile. “Of course not. You wanted to believe the best. I think that’s human nature. Your fiancé never gave you any reason to think anything was seriously wrong.”

      “Yes, you’re right. He misled me.” As Wynne bent over and picked up her purse, she felt a new emotion drift to the surface. Her face warmed. Her heart started thumping heavily in her chest. “He lied. For months and months. We had sex. Lots of sex. He acted like he enjoyed it. Pretended it was good.”

      “And that makes you feel…?”

      “Maybe a little mad.”

      “A little?” Susan leaned forward. “Wynne, you don’t need permission to feel any emotion. It’s okay.”

      Wynne nodded, jerking on her purse’s zipper. “Okay, maybe I’m more than a little mad. Maybe I’m very mad, pissed…furious. Absolutely livid. It wasn’t fair for him to let things drag on so long if he wasn’t happy.” Finding a pack of gum, she snatched a piece, unwrapped it, wadded the wrapper up, and stuffed the stick into her mouth. She chewed so hard her jaw snapped. “We were together for three years. We were engaged for one. And none of this came up until a few weeks before our wedding.” She swiped at the hot tears streaming from her eyes, tugging a tissue from the box Susan handed her. “It wasn’t fair to keep such important secrets from me. I mean, maybe John knew I wouldn’t understand that whole whips and chains thing. That could be part of the reason why he kept it quiet. And the gay part…oh God. But still. It’s just wrong, what he did.” She closed her purse and set it on the floor. “Then again, I keep telling myself he probably couldn’t help it. He was probably ashamed. Suffering.”

      “What do you mean, ‘couldn’t help it’?”

      “I’ve been doing some reading about sex addiction. How people get sucked into depravity, needing harder and harder stimulation. It wasn’t John’s fault, I don’t think. He was…sick. Right? That’s what I have to keep telling myself.” Noticing Susan was staring at her hands, she glanced down. She’d torn the tissue to shreds without realizing it. She raked the ripped bits into a pile and balled them up, stuffing them into her pocket. “It’s the only way I can deal with this without going absolutely crazy. I mean, what else could it be? It has to be a sickness, right? An addiction. Normal sex with a woman simply wasn’t enough anymore.”

      Susan didn’t respond for a long time, which drove Wynne absolutely nuts. Finally, she said, “First, from a purely professional standpoint, to say all people who participate in bondage or are gay are ‘sick’ is not a fair—”

      Something hot and furious exploded inside her. “Fair? Who the hell cares about fair?” Wynne pulled another tissue from the box and dabbed at her watery eyes. “John didn’t think about what was fair. And his gay fuck partner didn’t either. If they did, we would be married right now, buying our first house together, planning to start a family. Because he told me that was what was going to happen. He’d promised me. Like you said, any emotion I’m feeling is good. Right? So you can’t fault me for hating the culture or lifestyle or whatever you call it that took my John away. My life. My dreams.”

      Susan seemed to be trying to hide a frown. “I hear a lot of anger in those words.”

      “Yeah, I’m sure you do. I just don’t get it. Why would any man leave a woman who loves him with all her heart for someone who beats him? Why? Why would he suddenly decide sex with me was so bad that he needed to quit having sex with women forever? If he didn’t go homosexual because of an addiction then I turned the man gay. How’d I manage that? Please, please tell me.” She held her breath, waiting, hoping for the words that would make this whole thing make sense. That’s all she wanted, for someone to say the right thing, so that the lightbulb would come on, she would understand, and she’d finally be out of this dark hell.

      “I think we’ve got our work cut out for us. For one thing, you need to understand that you did nothing wrong. John didn’t ‘turn’ gay. He was gay all along. And second, you don’t know what bondage is about. Until you do, you’re not going to put this behind you. Do you agree?” At Wynne’s shrug, the therapist added, “I don’t want you to continue to doubt yourself, your sexuality, your ability to trust, to love. Which is why I want to make a suggestion.”

      Damn, there’d been no lightbulb moment. “What kind of suggestion?”

      “I wonder.” Susan paused for a moment, visibly contemplating something. “Would you consider a little exercise? I think it might help you find the answers you’re looking for.”

      “I guess that depends upon the ‘exercise’ you’re suggesting. If it means I’ll finally get over this crap, so I can find a man who can love me and not scare him away with my paranoia, then maybe I’m desperate enough to try just about anything.”

      “I want you to go to a bondage club.”

      Wynne barked out a laugh. Her stomach almost came out with it. “You’re kidding, right?”

      “No, I’m not.”

      “Then maybe you’re the one who needs a shrink. Not me. Because that’s just…wrong.”

      Susan pursed her lips, shaking her head. “There’s that sarcasm again. Remember, use feeling СКАЧАТЬ