I Married a Master(45)
Author: Melanie Marchande

"All right," I said. "Well, that’s settled, then."

"Good," she said. "Thanks for the clothes."

"They’re all yours," I said. "But I’d suggest leaving some here, for these kinds of occasions."

She nodded. "When did you expect me to move in? I mean, we’re working on a pretty tight timetable here."

"I think it should wait until after the wedding, don’t you? Otherwise it’s an awful lot to worry about, all at once."

"Does anyone get married these days without living together?" Jenna gave me a skeptical look.

"Sure," I said. "I’ll buy a toothbrush, and you can tell people you’re basically living here, if that helps."

"Well. I have an audition today," she said, standing up. "So I’ll talk to you later – all right?"

I didn’t want to let her leave. I wanted to demand an explanation for why she’d so gleefully given me blue balls, just to prove a point to herself. It wasn’t fair. There were about a thousand ways I could’ve proven to her that I was a decent human being, that didn’t involve dangerous priapism.

But that would probably fly in the face of the whole "decent human being" thing.

"All right, break a leg," I told her, as she gathered her things and prepared to walk out of my door one more time.

Why, why, why was she tormenting me with something I couldn’t have?

Maybe it was just her way of seducing me. She wanted a taste – of course she did. I wasn’t being conceited. I knew what I looked like. Back in college, I used to get plenty of offers for modeling underwear, or something equally ridiculous. For a while, when I was obsessed with fitting in, I actually posed nude in the art department. The figure drawing classes loved me. I acted like I needed the money, even though nobody was fooled. I never actually cashed the checks. It was just something to do – and I enjoyed watching the way the students’ eyebrows would raise slightly when I shrugged off my robe.

I always thought that would come back to haunt me someday, but so far it seemed like everyone had forgotten. Everyone except me, at any rate. There was probably some unspoken honor code of posing nude for art classes.

I found it endlessly interesting which students drew me with the tattoos, and which ones left them out. They were only partially done back then, nowhere near as complex or vibrant as they were now.

If Jenna drew me, I had a feeling the tattoos would come first.

She liked bad boys in college. That was one tidbit I’d managed to glean from Maddy, and it certainly rang true so far.

After some thought, I picked up my phone and called Daniel.

"Hmm?" He always answered the phone so professionally when he knew I was calling. I grinned.

"Good morning to you too. Busy?"

"What do you think?" he groused. "If this isn’t about a flood or a wildfire, I’m hanging up."

"I can’t talk about it over text," I said.

"Why?"

"Because you’ll just delete it."

He groaned. "You realize that’s the equivalent of hanging up on you. Which I’m about to do."

"Wait!" I insisted. "Remember the Silo?"

There was a long silence.

"Hanging up now," he said.

"No, no, no. Please. Just hear me out. Jenna’s willing to give it a shot. This is a one-in-a-million thing. She’s not really…kinky. But she wants to try, for me. Do you have any idea how valuable that is?"

"Some," he said, dryly. "But the answer’s no."

"Come on. Dan. I would’ve done it for you. This will be so much easier for her if she’s around at least one friend she can trust." I put on the most sincere tone I could manage. "I really, really like this girl. I think she’s the one, man. I’ve never felt this way about anybody since Daria…I didn’t even feel this way about Daria. It’s real. If she can learn to love this too…"

The line was silent for a while, but he hadn’t hung up. "I never would’ve asked you to do it for me," he said, shortly. "Not if I knew you’d left. We had this discussion, Ben. That’s not who I am anymore."

"But it is," I insisted. "You think Maddy wouldn’t enjoy a little bit of being shown off on your arm?"

"That’s my wife you’re talking about," he growled. "Be careful."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Relax. Will you at least ask her? For me? Make it like it’s all my fault. Like you never enjoyed going there at all. I’m twisting your arm. I bet you’ll be surprised by her reaction."

"You’re on thin ice," he warned.

"God damn, okay!" I raised my palm in a surrendering gesture, as if he could see me. "Forgive me for allowing the possibility that your wife enjoys a bit of the rough. She did marry you."

"What did I just say?"

I was feeling cheeky, but I decided not to push it. "That your wife’s a lovely, understanding woman who will certainly want to help me out with my predicament."

"I really am hanging up now," he said.

"Thank you," I half-shouted, as the line went dead.

Well. It could have gone worse.

Jenna would certainly view the whole thing a lot more sympathetically with her friend by her side. Even though I loved the community at Silo, and trusted most of them, there was no guarantee that everything would go smoothly. If something spooked her, I wanted Maddy to be there to smooth things over. I wasn’t going to risk my whole plan blowing up just because of some stupid hiccup at a fetish club.

I was asking for trouble, suggesting this. I’d known that at the start. But giving Jenna this little initiation into my world gratified something deep inside me, and I couldn’t just pass up this opportunity.

Of course, if she ended up too intrigued, I’d have a whole new set of problems on my hands. But that was a risk I’d just have to take.

Chapter Eighteen

Jenna

I was in way too deep.

My little stunt on the way home from the party was supposed to be a test. I needed to know. Now, I wished I hadn’t found out, because if I thought he was the kind of absolute scumbag who’d take advantage of a very drunk girl – well, that would’ve made it a lot easier to hate him.

Instead, I saw his tender side, his sense of responsibility towards his fellow human beings. The fact that he respected women, respected me. At first, it was fun to watch him squirm, but I quickly found myself wishing I hadn’t been so convincing.

I didn’t know why he’d been so worked up in the first place – maybe his pre-party state stood him up, or something. He was looking at me like he wanted to eat me alive, and I wanted to let him. But that would be irresponsible. Complicated. Messy. Wrong.