No Reservations (8 page)

Leah's brows rose.

They had a cancel ation he said. I got him out of big trouble two years ago so we won't be paying ful price. Let me regale you with tales of Pickles on the way over. We can rip her to shreds and you can tel me about Bingo's family when you're ready. We have late dinner reservations.'

'Awesome.'

'My friend at the hotel said in the message that there was some sort of convention going on here in Vegas, but didn't say what. We can flirt with dentists or architects or whoever has freaking conventions in Vegas right after Christmas.' And just not think about ex-wives and moving in together or anything else life altering. No, it was time for shopping, drinking, eating and some pampering. She'd deal with her life on the plane ride back home.

Brandon didn't realise how much he'd hoped Leah would be at home until he walked into the house and found it disappointingly dark and cold. He flipped the switch and lit the kitchen in the harsh blue-white light from the old, sputtering fluorescent fixture he kept meaning to fix. He paused, listening for a tel tale footstep from upstairs, but only silence answered him. Shit.

He climbed the stairs two at a time anyway, but the bedroom was as dark and cold and unwelcoming as the kitchen had been. Brandon leant in the doorway and let the breath whoosh out of him in a sigh. He went to the bed and fel onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

He closed his eyes, exhausted. It had only been a day since Leah had left his parents' house. He hadn't slept much since then, not even on the flight home, and normal y flying knocked him out like a right hook from a prize-fighter. 'I have to go,' she'd said, and he'd seen right away she meant it.

He hadn't tried to stop her. Not when she refused to look at the ring he'd bought, or when she packed her things and apologised to his parents for having to cut her visit short. True to her personality, Leah hadn't offered an explanation, just a simple, straightforward statement that she'd had a lovely time, but she needed to go.

He hadn't tried to stop her when she got out of the car at the airport, either, and, though it had just about kil ed him to watch her walk away and disappear into the crowd, he hadn't fol owed. She'd told him not to, and Brandon veiy much wanted Leah to understand he would always do his best to do what she wanted.

After al , it wasn't as though he didn't understand why she wanted it.

Brandon sighed again and turned his head to look at the closet doors, hanging open. Inside were Leah's clothes, rows of skirts and blouses, colour-coordinated. She didn't like dry-clean-only fabrics and she also hated laundry, so he'd taken over the chore. Even now, alone and knowing she'd walked out on him, thinking about pul ing the clothes warm from the dryer, folding and hanging them, al while knowing Leah was due home shortly and would be happy to reward him for his efforts . . .

'Fuck,' Brandon groaned as his dick stirred.

Now wasn't the time for this but he unzipped anyway.

Pul ed out his cock and stroked it to ful hardness with Leah's goodbye ringing in his mind.

'Don't come after me,' she'd said seriously from her place in the passenger seat. She'd been staring straight ahead to the traffic merging into the airport parking lot. 'I need some time to think. Wil you think about me when I'm gone?'

'You know I wil .'

She'd looked at him then, her smile a little sad but her eyes glinting with familiar desire. And what wil you do when you think about me, Brandon?'

The game was familiar; his response not so much.

'Wishing you'd come home.'

Her smile faltered and her gaze had fal en to his lap. 'I'd rather have you fuck your fist and pretend it's me.' 'I can do that, too.'

She'd touched his cheek. Looked into his eyes. 'Then do it.'

Then she'd left the car, and here he was, prick in his palm just the way she'd said it. He pushed his hips upwards, feeling the bed sink beneath him. In another minute he was close, just from thinking of her smel and the way she felt around him when she came. Brandon slowed, stroking, eyes closed as pleasure mounted.

Somewhere, Leah would be thinking of him doing this.

Pleasure shuddered through him and he bit back her name, held it tight on his tongue. Breathing, final y, he opened his eyes again. He could come here, on the bed, but something held him back.

He thought of nothing more until he was under the shower's hot water. He bent to let it pound his back and shoulders, then pushed his face beneath the spray. One of the first commands she'd ever given him was to jerk himself off in the shower and, no matter how many he'd taken since, he never failed to remember that.

She owned him, and he was fine with that, because he wanted to be owned. Leah was the one stil uncomfortable with it, no matter how many times he tried to show her there wasn't much he'd refuse her. There was nothing, in fact, he ever had, and, even though he could imagine a few things she might ask that he'd balk at doing, he also knew she wouldn't ask him. He knew Leah understood him wel enough to never push him beyond where he wanted to go . . . but she didn't know she did. Or didn't want to admit it.

His cock, stil half-hard from his musings on the bed, stirred again. Brandon stroked it once, twice, until it tapped his bel y when he let it go. Then again, slower this time, leaning into the water. One hand on the wal , head bent into the spray, eyes closed.

Leah's mouth was tighter than his grip. Wetter. When she sucked his cock she never failed to move lower, tonguing his bal s as she used her hand to stroke.

Brandon groaned.

He'd been jerking off for a long time, and yet it didn't matter that he knew his own body wel enough to make himself come within minutes. Every time was different. This time his cock grew almost painful y hard, his bal s throbbing, as he pushed into his fist.

Thinking of Leah did that. Remembering the heat of her mouth on him, the play of her fingers on his bal s. She liked to tease him close to the edge and ease off. She never made him beg, oh no, that wasn't quite the way she liked to play.

She liked to bind his hands, though, so he couldn't touch her.

She liked to make him crazy by forcing him to watch while she sucked him and played with her clit.

Leah liked to bring them both to the edge, skating so dangerously close he swore there were times he came dry a couple times before he final y shot. She liked to bring herself close, but she hardly ever finished herself. That was reserved for his mouth, his hands, his cock.

A few weeks ago he'd come home from work to find a straight-backed chair in the middle of the bedroom floor. A belt, the old one, not the one she'd given him for Christmas, looped over the back of the chair. He was instantly, almost painful y hard.

Leah, who never made much of latex and vinyl, had appeared in the bathroom doorway. She wore a sheer black bra with tiny red bows at the straps and a matching pair of panties so tiny he'd scoffed at the price tag when he bought them, but paid it anyway. He'd left them for her in the drawer the last time he put away her laundry. She looked gorgeous in them, but he hadn't expected anything less.

Take off your clothes, Brandon.'

He had, slowly, giving her a show. Naked, he sat on the chair, the wood cool under his ass and the straight back pressing the knobs of his spine. He'd put his hands behind him, and when she looped him bound with leather, he'd closed his eyes and breathed deep to steady himself.

Brandon widened his stance, one hand stil on the wal , the other on his dick. Hot water cascaded down his back, down the crack of his ass to tickle his bal s -- not quite as good as Leah's tongue dancing along his skin, but pretty fucking good. He groaned, then bit back the noise even though he was alone and the rush of water covered it up anyway.

Leah liked to see how long he could go without making any noise.

And Brandon liked -- no, loved -- giving her what she liked. Why was it so hard for her to see that it was al right?

He groaned loudly, through the pleasure. He rol ed the head of his cock beneath his palm, then stroked down. He bent his knees a little, easing the ache he knew he'd feel later if he wasn't careful.

He wasn't doing this because he couldn't help it, or couldn't control it. He wasn't standing in the shower beating off because he was so overcome with horniness he couldn't stand it. He was fucking himself right now because he couldn't fuck her, and because she'd told him he would do it while he thought of her, and because, even though he knew she'd never know for sure if he had or had not, he wanted to make Leah happy.

More than happy. He wanted to give her everything she wanted, to be everything she needed. Brandon wanted to please her because he loved her . . . and she loved him, dammit, he knew it. Even if it scared her to admit it, he knew she did.

He couldn't hold back any longer. Orgasm shot through him, tore him apart. Left him hol ow. He breathed hard, the shower's heat leaving him woozy. He switched the water to cold and stood, stoic, as frigid needles stabbed him. Then he got out and scrubbed himself diy so fiercely his skin turned red.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he stalked to the bedroom and paced. She'd said not to fol ow her, and it had been his instinct to obey. Not only because that was the dynamic of their relationship, but because, no matter how much he loved her, Brandon wasn't going to chase after a woman who didn't want to be with him. If she didn't come back to him, he was better off without her.

Except, fuck it. He would never be better off without Leah. She wasn't better off without him, either, and the sooner she admitted it the better off both of them would be. There was only one person who'd know where Leah had gone.

Kate. Brandon dial ed her cel number and got her voicemail.

Kate. It's Brandon. I . . . could you cal me, please?'

Shit, he sounded as corn-fed and aw-shucks as he knew Kate liked to tease Leah he was. Too late, though, saving more would only make him sound like a desperate asshole. He disconnected.

Kate would know where Leah was, but who would know where Kate was? Brandon dial ed another number, one he'd never had need to use before but which Leah had programmed into his when they got matching iPhones.

It rang only a couple of times before a male voice said,

'Hel o?'

'Dix? It's Brandon.'

'Band Boy,' Dix said after the barest pause, amusement thick in his voice.

Brandon gritted his teeth and slapped a hand to his forehead. 'Don't cal me that, man. C'mon.' 'Sorry.' Dix laughed. Couldn't resist.' Brandon scowled. 'I'm trying to reach Kate.' Dix stopped laughing. 'Why?' 'Because she knows where Leah is.'

Brandon liked Dix wel enough, though he didn't know him as wel as he knew Kate, The four ot them had gone out a bunch of times to dinner, sat at the same table for things like Leah's company holiday party, stuff like that. He'd met Kate first, though, and had spent more time with her. Had even had a few conversations with her without Leah or Dix around. Kate wasn't his buddy, but he thought she liked him, at least thought he was good enough to be dating her best friend. He wasn't real y sure what Dix thought about him, but he was pretty sure Dix knew the sort of relationship Brandon and Leah had.

'I'l give you credit, kid, you held out longer than I thought you would.'

'It's only been a day."

Dix snorted. 'I didn't wait that long to figure out where my woman went.'

'She told me not to try to find out,' Brandon said and braced himself for Dix's laughter.

Dix only cleared his throat. 'Ah.'

'I know why she left,' Brandon said. 'I was going to ask her to marry me. She got a little . . . freaked.' Another beat of silence and then Dix growled, 'Damn, what's with those two, anyway?' 'Do you know where she is? Leah, I mean.'

'She's with Kate.'

Brandon snorted. 'So, where's Kate?' 'Vegas.'

Of al the places in the world Brandon might have guessed she'd go, that was the last. Leah had once referred to Vegas as a 'playground for deviants'. He'd assumed she was being derisive. Maybe he was wrong.

'I'm not waiting for her to come back,' Brandon said. 'I want her to see I'm serious about this. I'm not just going to sit back and let her run away every time something gets scary.'

'Dammit, kid . . .' Dix laughed again. 'So. Let's go.'

'Wait. What?'

'Vegas,' Dix said. 'You and me. Let's go get them.

Besides, Vegas is a hel uva lot of fun.

Kate definitely didn't look at Leah. If she did it would be over and the laughing would begin and that would not be nice.

No. Not at al . Instead she tried to pretend it wasn't odd at al to ride in an elevator with a guy in a latex body suit wearing a feather mask and a cape. And a rather large red hat.

Kate had mental rules about certain things. Women over thirty-five shouldn't wear leather mini-skirts. No one should wear reinforced-toe panty hose with open-toed shoes. Not ever. And anyone with an ounce of body fat shouldn't wear a purple latex body suit. Much less with feather masks, capes and big red hats. It was like bad taste exploded al over him.

Stil , he seemed rather nice, and he held the doors for them as they approached the elevators.

'So, are you here for the con?' Cape guy asked.

'Con?' Leah sounded so very calm, like she had discussions with men in masks and capes every single day.

'FetCon? It's a sex and fetish conference down at the convention centre. You two should come by,' Cape boy's friend -- the one on the end of the leash snapped to the spiked col ar on his neck -- added. Seriously, a col ar was one thing, but spikes? It seemed so very right out of a catalogue and poserish.

Kate nodded and smiled, giving her very best blank lawyer face. 'Thank you for the invitation. Our schedule is pretty ful .' She was al for letting your freak flag fly. Whatever got you off as long as everyone consented was just fine. Who was she to judge? She liked to have sex where people might see. She had her own kinks, so she assumed everyone else did too. However, it seemed to her that not being a stereotype would be good too. But hel , she didn't know these dudes so what did she know? They could just like spikes. Or something.