Leather Bound (12 page)

I watched him while he got dressed. He turned away to put his pants on, and I got thinking how weird it is to go from being lovers to people who have sex to … whatever we were now. People who turned away to hide their naked bodies from each other.

I pulled my dress back down over my head. ‘Do you want to talk some more?’ I asked.

‘Not right now,’ he said. ‘I’m kind of all talked out. Besides, you need to get going if you’re going to make the show.’

A quick glance at the bedside clock told me he was right.

‘Shit,’ I said. I’d completely forgotten about the Cat House. It wasn’t like I was going for fun. I needed to be discreet, or at least professional. What I didn’t need was to show up late, looking like I’d just been well fucked. Or maybe that was the perfect way to show up. Who knew?

‘Do you want to come with me?’ I asked. ‘It’s work, but it also might be sexy. We have to hurry, though. I have to stop by Cream on the way.’

‘Well, get dressed then,’ he said.

I jumped out of bed, only remembering the ankle too late to be careful of it, but it didn’t even let out a tiny twang.

I dressed fast. The only difference is that this time I pulled on a pair of boots without heels. They didn’t look quite as good with the dress, but they’d protect my ankle, and that felt more important at the moment.

‘Ready?’ I asked. Kyle was back in his jeans and jacket, his hair only slightly less sexed up than mine. It looked good on him. Sandy-coloured, a little mussed and, as always, falling across his eyes. Fuck, he was hot.

Even as I looked at him, I got an odd feeling in the bottom of my stomach. Something was wrong with me, wasn’t it? That I didn’t just say yes to this beautiful, smart, kind man. That I didn’t want what everyone else in the world seemed to want. That a marriage proposal sent me into dithers instead of making me all warm and fuzzy. Jesus. Was I broken somehow?

‘Ready,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

I opened the door, reflexively looking to make sure there weren’t any more surprises on my doorstep. When I was certain the coast was clear, we stepped out and I locked the door behind us.

We walked fast. Well, as fast as I dared. I didn’t want to tweak my ankle, but the boots I had on seemed to do a great job of keeping everything in place. The sun had set and the tiny streetlights entwined in the trees lit our way.

I was still all tingly from good sex, the insides of me all melty and warm, the outsides buzzing with leftover pleasure and arousal. But that softness was mingled with confusion. Had we made some kind of decision? Were we still together? Was Kyle really as OK with all of this as he said he was?

He walked comfortably beside me, not seeming at all concerned that we hadn’t talked more about the marriage thing, and that made me feel better. I slipped my hand into his and grinned when he squeezed it lightly.

Sometimes life was good enough that you had to bask in it for a little while. Especially at those times when you can hear bad coming around the corner, its little footsteps making their way toward you.

We were almost at Cream when something occurred to me.

‘Wait, Kyle, how did you know we’d be late? Did I tell you what time the show was?’

He didn’t hesitate with his answer and he didn’t falter in his step, but that was a Kyle trait. If you wanted to hear the truth, he told it to you. He wouldn’t tell you things you didn’t want to know. But he’d told me right from the beginning that if I asked something, I should want the truth, because he was going to give it to me. It’s like he had the truth brimming in him all the time, and, if you so much as made a little hole for it to escape, it was likely to explode all over you.

‘Cat House shows are always on the same day of the month and they always start at the same time,’ he said.

Now I was the one to stop walking. ‘How do you know about this place when I don’t? I mean, not that I don’t expect you to know things that I don’t, but I’ve never even heard of it and I’ve lived in this city way longer than you.’

He stopped as I did, still holding my hand. ‘Some of my clients go there.’

There was more. There was always more with Kyle. One of the reasons I liked him so much was that he was complex and deep, always had a million things on his brain, even when he was making me laugh. Or making me dinner. Or making me come.

But just this once I wished I could get him to say everything that was in there, everything that I wanted to know without prompting.

As though he’d read my mind, he nodded. ‘Your eyes are so full of questions they’re about to explode. How about this? I promise I’ll tell you the whole story after the show, OK? Everything I know. And I won’t even make you ask all the questions. Deal?’

I traced the love line in his palm with my thumb, or at least what I thought was the love line, feeling its deep length. Feeling bad, but also hopeful.

‘Deal,’ I said. ‘And I really am sorry.’

‘I know,’ he said.

His kindness was breaking my heart into little bits.

‘Why do you have to be so nice about it? Why can’t you just be a big fat jerk so I can hate you?’

For once, he didn’t answer. He just kissed my forehead.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let’s go find us a Kitty.’

He lifted his eyebrows at that, about a second before he burst into laughter.

‘You don’t have any idea what we’re about to experience, do you?’ he asked.

‘Purr?’ I responded.

‘Yeah, we’re in so much trouble,’ he said.

From the outside, Cream was the kind of place that looked like any other coffee shop. Almost. If you didn’t notice that, on the sign over the door, the font of the word CREAM was made up of naked people curved into letters.

Or if you didn’t look through the windows and see the erotic art that lined all the walls.

‘I’ll be fast,’ I said. ‘Want coffee?’

Kyle shook his head. He still looked a little dazed about everything, as though he was a man who’d expected a punch in the jaw and then got a kiss instead. Which, now that I thought about it, was pretty close to what had actually happened. But he was clearly still waiting for the other punch. So, it seemed, was I.

‘I’ll wait here,’ he said. ‘It’s nice out.’

‘Back in two shakes,’ I said.

I stepped inside the shop and was instantly inundated with the scent of fresh baked goods and well-made coffee. Almost as good as the smell of paper and leather.

Cream was tiny, just room for a couple of tables up front and the long counter behind which two of Stefan’s baristas worked. A new art show featured black and white photos of body parts. Nipples tightened between clamps. The corner of an eye with long false eyelashes. The very tip of someone’s erect cock. The natural wood floors and walls, combined with the beautiful, sexual artwork, did a lot for the place.

The tables were always filled with couples and singles. Every table had a sugar bowl, a napkin dispenser and a coffee cup filled with free condoms. Off to the left, a library shelf was lined with sex books, some of which I knew they’d picked up at Leather Bound. Another shelf offered more books, these for sale, along with a glass case filled with leather whips, blindfolds and other sex toys.

You could always tell who was coming to check it out; they were the giggly ones. Tonight, two young women sat at the farthest table, their mouths open just a little, watching everything. Their gazes followed me as I made my way to the counter. The table in the corner was full of the local cops, as it always was. A couple of them gave me a nod as I went by.

Behind the counter, two women worked to the sound of steam and espresso. A huge blackboard was handwritten with drinks and prices, mostly offerings with a sexual slant. Asking for a Red Hot got you a cinnamon mocha and a kiss from the barista if she was wearing red. Their drinking chocolate came in matching nipple cups. Here, even a vanilla latte had double meaning.

I didn’t recognise the woman working the register. She was young, bleach-blonde in a way that made her look punk and tough, with hoop piercings in both eyebrows. Sexy in a very ass-kicking kind of way.

‘Welcome to Cream,’ she said. ‘What’s your dream?’

Before I could respond, she pursed her lips. ‘Hm. I was trying that out, but I think it’s a flop. What do you think?’

‘The guys will like it,’ I said.

‘Yeah, girls are harder. Ain’t that the truth?’ She shook her head, laughing. ‘What can I get for you?’

Stefan came around the corner from the back at just that moment.

‘I’ll have one of him,’ I said. ‘And a cup of coffee to go.’

‘Everyone always asks for the exact same thing,’ she said, shooting me a smile. I do like people with a quick wit.

‘Sugar,’ Stefan said.

He was one of the few people in the world who could get away with calling me that. I think it’s because he gives the impression that you’re the only person he’s ever called by that nickname, as though he’d just tweaked your given name slightly into this new form.

He came around the counter and gave me a hug. He was at least six inches taller than me and at least that many inches wider. Getting inside his hug was like being enveloped in a coffee- and sugar-scented blanket. A very strong, very masculine blanket.

‘Her coffee’s on me,’ he said.

‘Thanks, Stefan.’ Normally I pay. And I tip. Which means that on the rare times I do run into Stefan and he offers to pay for me, I don’t feel bad about it. I stuffed a couple of dollars in the tip jar and gave the bleach-blonde a nod of thanks when she proffered my coffee.

‘Tell me all,’ I said, once we’d grabbed ourselves a small table in the corner.

‘First, I don’t know how you found out about the Cat House, but watch yourself.’

OK, if he was playing assistant to my Girl Friday again, I could play that. I leaned in conspiratorially, lowering my voice. ‘Right, because the book buyers are dangerous.’ I looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening to me or watching our conversation. ‘And they might –’

‘No, I’m serious, Janine.’

I’d never heard Stefan use my given name in my whole life. It brought me to a complete stop, my coffee cup halfway to my mouth.

‘Wait. What? Are you being serious?’

‘Did I not just use the word “serious” in the previous sentence?’

‘Yes, but …’ I started.

Then I sat back and rephrased my question. ‘What do you mean? What do you know? Why am I the last one to know about everything?’

Everything at this particular moment being Kyle’s desire to get married to me and this whole Cat House thing. And possibly something about Lily and something about Davian and what the hell was up with our rent being raised anyway. So, yeah, turned out I really was the last to know about everything.

‘I don’t know very much, to be honest,’ Stefan said. ‘As long as I’ve owned Cream, I’ve never gone. Too cult-like for my taste.’

‘Cult-like?’ I echoed.

He nodded. ‘Sure, they have a leader who makes all the decisions. Some kind of initiation ceremony. Secret sex stuff that happens underground and that you can’t talk about.’

‘Are you pulling my leg, Stefan? Because I really need to know this stuff.’

‘Sugar, I never kid about sex.’

He must have seen my look because he took my hands in his. He had featherlight hands, his skin far softer than it had any right to be.

‘Look,’ he said. ‘It’s not dangerous to your life or anything. It’s just very underground. And there is sometimes talk of people getting sucked in.’

‘Sucked in? Sucked into what?’

He waved a hand over my coffee as if to cool it.

‘You’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘You’re smart and strong, Sugar. And you don’t have a crazy libido, do you?’

I felt my eyes go wide.

‘OK, scratch that. Try to keep that sex lust of yours in check and you’ll be just fine,’ he said. ‘Do you have someone to go with you?’

I pointed out through the window to where Kyle stood on the sidewalk, talking into his cell phone.

‘Right, of course,’ Stefan said. ‘Your cute blond boy. And you trust him?’

‘What?’ I said.

He shrugged. ‘I’m just making sure. I don’t want you to wander off and get mugged by some invisible Cult of the Nine Nipples or something. Also, don’t drink the Kool-Aid.’

I nearly snorted coffee out my nose. Unpleasant, but totally worth it for the laugh.

‘I’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘How do I find this door?’

‘Go around the back.’

‘The back of what?’

He made a gesture towards the back of the building we were sitting in.

‘You’re saying this place is at the back of this building, the building that houses your own shop?’

He nodded.

‘And you’ve never seen it?’

‘Sugar,’ he said, ‘I’ve seen the door. And that is enough for me.’

I looked at Stefan for more answers.

‘That’s all I know, Sugar,’ he said. ‘But come back safely to me and tell me everything you can.’ He made his eyes big at me. ‘I mean all the dirty nasty fun bits, of course. Even an old settled guy like me can dream.’

Then he hugged me like I was going off into the wilds of the African jungle, never to be heard from again.

When I walked back outside, the world kind of returned to normal. Kyle finished his call and gave me a smile. People were strolling back and forth on the sidewalk. Everything was as it should be.

Except that nothing was. And one of my favourite people in the world had just bolted like a scared rabbit and warned me against a place named after a pet shelter. Or a bathroom. Or a wine room. Whatever.

All I had to say to that was: What. The. Hell?

* * *

The door was surprisingly easy to find. It really was at the back of the building as Stefan had said, and it was clearly marked THE CAT HOUSE. Despite the obvious, I’d certainly never noticed it.

The truth of all truly hidden things: they were right in front of your face all along.

A tug on the door handle revealed that it was locked.

‘How do we get in?’ I asked.

‘I haven’t a clue,’ Kyle said.

‘I thought you knew all about this?’ I said.

He cracked me a grin. ‘I know about it. But I’ve never been here.’