A Bedtime Story (24 page)

L
aura had just received the news.
Master
Kayne was coming home
. She could barely contain herself. She paced around
all day, went shopping for another outfit that she carefully laid on the bed, and
changed her mind a few dozen times before returning to the initially selected new
grey chiffon dress. It reminded her of the one she wore the first night she met him.
So much had happened since, and yet her heart still fluttered in her chest at the
mention of his name, at the thought of finding herself alone with him.

She asked Olga what his favorite meal was and insisted on preparing
it herself. They spent the day in the kitchen, Laura laughing heartily under Olga’s
supervision and resigned headshake after her third burned batch of knish and
kalduny, Russian versions of dumplings.

She set the table smiling away and sat patiently in her grey dress,
constantly looking at her watch. Hours passed, and Laura fell asleep with her head
resting in her palm. She woke up to the clock striking midnight, a cold untouched
meal, waning candles, and no Kayne in sight. With a bitter taste in her mouth, she
smiled coolly back to the empty room, lifted her chin, and headed to her bedroom in
her unseen dress.

***

Kayne delayed his return as much as he could. He’d been looking
forward to it for so long; now that it was here, he felt apprehensive at facing the
reality of Laura’s welcome, of having his fantasized reunion shattered mercilessly.
Dawn was creeping when he stumbled home with Lucas holding him up. He was greeted by
a sexy young blonde who boldly introduced herself as Genevieve, looking him straight
in the eye with a seductive smile. She was putting away a cold meal he assumed Olga
prepared for him and smiled dejectedly at recognizing all his favorite foods as a
child.
He realized he was hoping to find Laura in his bed when he
walked in to his empty bedroom. He passed out on his mattress fully clothed, thought
he recognized her scent on his pillow.

L
aura avoided him purposefully, quietly
sneaking out at the crack of dawn, and stayed out as late as possible. She had
sheepishly hoped her cellphone would ring, that an infuriated voice would beckon her
home. It hadn’t happened. Kiev had been her companion for the past two months. She
had initially preferred to have Lucas by her side. He would have found a way to make
her laugh, to see things in a different light. She learned to appreciate Kiev’s
quiet strength, and found comfort in his morally blind devotion.

She had fantasized about walking with Kayne down the colorful
streets of Montreal, had imagined them swaying their heads during late nights spent
drinking too much at jazz clubs. How she loved her city, Montreal, there was no
place like it on earth. Not that she would know, having only discovered other worlds
on paper and screen. But she knew in her heart, none would match its magic. Montreal
didn’t fan her feathers for the world to see, was no star next to the likes of New
York and Paris. Montreal was a jewel to be discovered, delighting only the eyes who
could recognize beauty in its simplest form. Was there any feeling like walking down
the cobble streets of the Old Port on a warm summer night, its full terraces
announcing the end of the long winter and its ever-present artists offering you back
a piece of your lost childhood? Montreal was Laura’s gate 9 ¾; it contained all the
magic and wonder she would ever need. But even Montreal couldn’t dazzle her out of
her lonely truth. Crossing Pont Jacques-Cartier to the night skyline in the dark
Audi, Laura could only offer a brittle smile to Kiev.

***

Louis had been watching the interactions between the newly arrived
master and Genevieve. All day, he caught sideway glances and sly smiles. Genevieve
was a flirt. He’d learned to accept that
in his best friend. He knew
her every move, her subtle way of leaving a lingering hand on a shoulder, of
brushing her fingers on your lower back when passing behind. Her touch, although
always seemed innocent, was anything but. He spent years suffering in silence
because of it. She had perfected her seduction skills on him, from the first kiss
she’d given him when they were only twelve. They had been neighbors and best
friends, often mistaken for twins with their matching blue eyes and sun-kissed hair.
He was in awe of her; she was strong-minded and outgoing when he was just a little
shy boy afraid of his shadow. He had no friends. She had the entire third grade at
her feet. Of all the boys pining over her, of all the girls pretending to be her
friend, she had picked him. They’d been inseparable ever since.

He had followed her to summer camps, had taken up smoking with her,
dropped out of school, and got trashed with her on their prom night, celebrating
alone in the backseat of a car looking over Mount Royal. They’d lost their virginity
to each other. He had thought they would be together forever. She had told him he
was the best friend she’d ever had. He wore the badge with honor, taking his role
very seriously, regardless of the heartbreak that followed her every conquest. She
was wild, and he loved her for it. When things got out of hand and he couldn’t save
her from her hell, he followed her into it. They had all given up on her, thought
she was too far gone. It was him and no one else who was able to convince her to go
to detox. Sweaty, feverish, and vomiting, she had cried in his arms, told him she
loved him, that no one else had ever loved her. He thought he was the luckiest
person in the world. When she felt better, she never mentioned the
incident
again. He knew better than to bring it up and face her cruel laughter.

When two short months ago she mentioned the new job her friend told
her about, he knew it was bad news from the get-go. He didn’t like that friend of
hers. Another of her conquests, heavily into drugs, gambling, and any bad thing you
could imagine. He couldn’t get her to change her mind, the money was good, and there
was no way she was going to end up working the counter at a fast food joint.
Genevieve Roy liked the shady aspect of the job. She reveled in danger. She knew
she’d be safe; she knew Louis would come with her.

L
aura was on her way out when Kayne first
saw her. He barely recognized the distinguished lady facing him. He stared at her,
like the first night, willing her silently to turn around.

The air changed around her, she could feel a tingle down her neck.
Slowly, she turned her head, knowing beforehand he was there, her body sensing his
presence before her eyes could confirm it. Her eyes lit up for a moment, then
falling on his sardonic smirk, they instantly narrowed.

“You’re back…” she observed, her voice cold, smiling tight-lipped.
“You’re leaving,” he countered just as coolly.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She had prayed for his return, had
even pleasured herself with his face in her mind. Now that he was here in the flesh,
she froze. She would have forgiven him all, would’ve gladly run to meet him if only
he would have greeted her with his warm smile, if it was her Kayne who would have
come back to her. It was the other, the cool arrogant one. The one who seduced and
tortured her. She wondered if she would always have to go through that Kayne to end
up in the comforting embrace of the other.

Her Kayne, she was powerless to, this one, she resented. This one
had taught her the lessons she would use against him.

“Well… I’ll see you around I guess,” she threw indifferently.

He smirked arrogantly. “I’ll see you
tonight
for supper.
Seven sharp.”

“Oh... sorry, I can’t make it for supper. I have plans...” She held
his narrowing eyes and smiled arrogantly herself to the fury dancing in them.

He licked his lips, predatory instincts kicking in
at her challenging him. “Cancel them,” he commanded, his voice restrained, his gaze
swaying between threatening and entertained.

“It’s with Natasha—”

“She’ll understand,” he interrupted sternly.

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, each sizing
up the other. He took a few long strides to come face-to-face with her. He could see
the fear in her eyes mixing with excitement, the alertness in her muscles. She
didn’t fool him. Behind her proud stance and daring eyes, he could still see his
little girl. Could still bring her out by shattering her mask with one touch. He got
off on the power he held over her. He loved his ability to terrify her with one
look, to soothe her with a whisper. He wanted to be her savior, but it was the
villain who always dragged her to bed, kicking and screaming, until she moaned and
gasped, powerless in his grasp. But his very ability to manipulate her into wanting
him at any cost held a darker truth. She would never love him, he thought. Not on
her own, nor through the strings he’d skillfully attached to her, and constantly
pulled to his selfish designs. He could twist, bend, please, and break her body, but
he could never reach her heart. He disregarded the stabbing pain of an unattainable
Laura, focused instead on the adrenaline rush of a helpless Laura splayed on her
back, spread eagle, fear in her eyes, slowly turning wanton.

The mental image was enough to get him hard. He wanted to pin her
to the wall right then and there. He brought his face closer to hers and cocked his
head to the side. “Anything else you want to say?”

She exhaled slowly, her mouth in an “o” shape. She gathered her
composure before responding words spat with venom. “No, Master. Your wish is my
command.”

Her heart skipped a beat when he stepped toward her. She held her
breath unconsciously. She had counted the days, down to the seconds, until the
moment she would see him again. He, on the other hand, had preferred to spend the
night out, presumably in
the company of other women. She knew he’d
been with many others during his time away but that he chose to extend his time away
from her that extra night, to still choose to be with someone else, cut right
through her. That was the injury. The insult came in the form of a seductive Kayne
lurking in the shadows calm and collected when she was at her wits’ end, commanding
her as his secretary to make herself available the moment he sought her company. She
could’ve rebelled but knew her indifferent submission would hurt his pride more. She
wouldn’t admit to herself that this strategy suited her desire to be with him just
as well.

With that said, she turned around and walked away. She left and
stayed out for as long as she could. She preferred the loneliness she felt when he
was away to the one that ripped her apart in his presence.

***

He busied himself all day and caught himself constantly looking at
his watch, impatient for supper, hungry for his wife. At seven sharp, he entered the
empty dining room and sat alone, impatiently tapping his fingers on the table. At a
quarter past seven, Olga came in to check up on everything and was dismissed
immediately by a cranky Kayne.

By seven thirty he was pacing in the living room, furious at
Laura’s disobedience, maddened by her rejection. He knew he didn’t deserve her love,
that he was barely worthy of her company. It didn’t matter; he had never craved
anything as much. He retreated to the reception hall, poured himself a whiskey,
drank it too fast, and refilled another. By the fifth glass, he could barely stand
his own reflection in the mirror.

He hated her for turning his world upside down. He hated himself
for wanting her so desperately and still not being able to offer her the slightest
requirement to ever hope to earn her love. In victory as in defeat, Kayne smirked
arrogantly, this time at his own reflection, falling victim to his own hubris. He
cursed the
cocky smile, disdainful of his distress. In blind rage,
he punched through the mirror, annihilating his tormentor.

Genevieve, lurking nearby, jumped at the sound of shattering glass.
For two days she had shadowed her new employer, had flirted shamelessly, and
fantasized remorselessly about the married older man. She had always liked them
older; married was even better. Her therapist had called her
a classic case of
father abandonment issues
. Her pious mother had called her the spawn of
Satan, her girlfriends, a slut behind her back. Her dismissed conquests, a cold
bitch. The only person in the world who ever knew her and cared for her was Louis.
She loved him with all her heart, yet she pushed him away, knowing she would never
be worthy of such a noble man. She didn’t want love, devotion, or worse, admiration.
Guys her age fell to her feet effortlessly, each more of a disappointment than the
last. The first man who understood her needs, who didn’t melt like putty in her
hands, was twice her age, married, rich, and very handsome. He’d used her and
discarded her. For the first time in her life, she felt yearning and heartbreak; she
recognized them as love. She sought them out ever since.

Genevieve cautiously opened the door to find the handsome dark
figure staring at his bleeding hand, surrounded by broken shards of glass. In the
shattered mirror, his reflection was monstrous, his features beastly. The man facing
her, however, could have been Apollo’s evil twin.

“Sir, are you all right?” she asked in her soft voice, her French
accent pronounced.

He simply turned his face her way, his dark stare sending shivers
down her spine.

She cleared her throat. “I’ll clean the mess. Can I see your hand?”
She walked toward him. She was at his side before he could even answer, reaching for
his hand.

“What’s your name again?” he asked her haughtily.

“Genevieve… at your service, sir,” she added coyly.

He snorted, amused by her blunt flirting.

“If you allow me, sir, I could clean it up for you.”

“There’s no need. I’m fine, Genevieve.” She was
cute, and her flirtatious ways did appease his bruised ego, but only Laura had the
power to heal it. It was now seven forty-five, and she was still a no-show. He
refused to call her, to hound her as a forlorn husband, especially when such a
delectable thing tried so hard to divert him.

“But, sir, it is my job. To take care of you… See to all your
needs...” He chuckled this time, entertained by the tackiness of her amateur
seduction.

“How old are you, Genevieve?”

“I’m legal.” She grinned.

“Answer me,” he commanded, slightly annoyed.

“Twenty.” Her face dropped instantly.

“Twenty… you wouldn’t even
know
how to see to all my needs…”
He turned away from her.

“With all due respect,
sir
, you grossly underestimate
me.”

The corner of his lips quirked up with devious intent. “Do I? All
right. Five minutes. If you can get me hard without touching me, I’ll graciously
recant,” he added mockingly.

“I do love a challenge.” She met his luscious gaze. She walked to
the table and slowly undid the top button of her tight uniform, exposing her black
lace bra. Seductively, she sat down, slowly opened her legs, and revealed black
nylons held up by matching garters. She pushed the skirt of her uniform up, looked
at him longingly, and swayed her legs on each side.

“Four minutes,” he called, his voice deadpan, and saw nervousness
creep into her eyes.

“You think I’m just a kid.” She fixed her eyes on his and slowly
brought her hand around her neck, down her chest, lusciously caressing her breasts,
down her belly. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. I know you want me
too.” She began to touch herself, pushed her G-string to the side, and widened her
slim legs apart. It was enough to hold his attention. He took a seat facing her and
remained silent, encouraging her to go on.

Her voice became raspy, her breathing quickened, as
did the rhythm of her fingers. “Don’t you want to fuck me? Use me like a little
slut? Look at what I’m willing to do for your cock.” She slid a finger in and began
rocking herself against her own hand. “I want you to make me come so bad. Don’t you
want to make me your little fuck-toy?”

Kayne got hard, with less than a minute to go on the countdown. He
would recant,
graciously
.

“Don’t come.”

She immediately removed her hand.

“Did I say to stop touching yourself?” he asked, a wicked grin on
his face.

“Sir…” She brought her fingers back, very slowly and cautiously
rubbed her engorged flesh, barely holding back her building orgasm. “Will you make
me come?”

***

It was past eight when Laura walked back in. She had aimed for
fashionably late, waved off Kiev’s warning they should leave downtown before traffic
hit. As a result, they were caught in bumper-to-bumper traffic, as she nervously
looked at her watch. She walked in the house terrified, and over an hour late. She
breathed in and out a few times before making her way to the dining room, forcing a
breezy smile on her face. She wasn’t that surprised to realize Kayne Malkin had not
patiently waited for her arrival. She wondered where he was, what the consequences
would be. Her pride would not allow her to seek his presence. Her heart could not
tolerate his indifference, and so like any neglected child, she preferred acting
out, preferred his reprisal to his neglect. She searched for him, with cool dread
running through her veins, and heard the moans coming from the reception hall. Jaded
and disgusted, she pushed the door open and looked on disdainfully as Genevieve lay
flat on her stomach on the high table, while Kayne held her down with both hands on
her back, thrusting himself slowly in and out of her. He barely stopped moving at
the
interruption. Genevieve, still bending over, lifted her head and
stared back at Laura, a supercilious look on her face.

Laura snorted, unfazed, and walked in. She bent down to meet
Genevieve at eye level and addressed her in a condescending tone, “Genevieve,
sweetheart. Would you kindly get off my husband’s
dick
? I would like a
word.”

Genevieve was thrown off by the calm and collected cuckolded wife.
She stumbled to her feet as Kayne lazily pulled his zipper up. She glanced at him
inquisitively, nervousness straining her features. He just nudged his head toward
the door before returning his attention to his wife. He didn’t seem nervous. A half
smirk was creeping on his face as he watched his wife. She left the room as quickly
as she could. She felt used and cheap, like the tables had somehow been turned on
her. She’d dealt with women who knew of their husband’s affairs, but even the most
tolerant ones always lost their cool when facing her. Genevieve prided herself on
being the mistress, the one the husband betrayed his wife for. The one he would
jeopardize everything for. It felt very different this time, as if the joke was on
her. It was clear from the moment Mrs. Malkin had walked into the room that she
commanded her husband’s attention with a mere look. Genevieve wasn’t a threat,
merely a distraction, easily discarded without a second thought. She could almost
hear them snickering about her behind closed doors. For the first time, she admired
her rival; for the first time, she hated
the wife
.

***

Laura and Kayne stared at each other silently, fighting the duel
with their eyes alone. Eventually, she turned from him, a bored look on her
face.

“Really, Kayne… The help? How appallingly cliché.”

He smiled. “Sorry to disappoint. I could take you down to the
basement again and call that blonde you liked so much…”

He hated her cool composure, hated her calm in the face of his
tactless infidelity. It only strengthened his crushing suspicion; if
she once cared, she no longer did. He knew his words were cruel but needed to
provoke her. Needed desperately to know if he could still reach her, stir anything
in her, even if it was loathing. He got the reaction he wanted. She turned her face
back to him, her eyes round with shock. She exhaled in response, disbelief and
horror on her face. He smirked. He could almost hear her say the words again,
You’re a monster
. But she didn’t, her eyes said it all. With disgust, she
turned away and resumed her walk.