Broken Bonds (Club Imperial Series) (10 page)

“No,” she said. “He won’t take it back. Put it in the bank for Westin if you feel that strongly about it. These Walsh men don’t understand some of us aren’t as comfortable with money as they are. But they worked hard for it, so if he gave it to you, keep it.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” 

“Oh, Peter, stop that,” Emmy said. “You’re older than I am. None of this reverential stuff. My name is Emmy, please use it.”

“Thank you, Emmy.” 

“So you’ve been down there for two weeks?” she asked.

“Yes.” He nodded. “The woman who interviewed me was upset she didn’t have a better place for me, further up the corporate ladder, but I was just happy to have the interview. She called me a week later—Mr. Walsh bought me a prepaid phone so I could talk to people—and said she had found a place for me, but it wasn’t a great position. I was grateful for anything, really.” He looked around, furtively. “I would have worked for pennies as soon as I heard the company covered health care.”

Emmy laughed.

“I was able to get the power, water, and gas all turned back on with my first pay check. I have payment agreements with all of them to pay it off slowly. Next week, I’m going to buy some plywood and shingles and shore up the roof. As soon as I get most of the bills taken care of and get that crap car fixed, I might even splurge on cable.” He smiled at her. “The best part about all of this was I was able to take my son to Primanti’s for lunch, the way my dad used to. I bought lunch for my family for the first time in four years. There is nothing that restores the spirit like not having to go to the food pantry for a hot meal. Nothing like walking in and placing an order and handing over a ten and twenty to pay for food. Nothing like seeing the smile on your son’s face when you can take him for ice cream after dinner, make him take a bath and put him in a clean bed.”

Emmy could feel the tears in her eyes. She blinked them away as best she could; this was what the Walshes did. They gave people their dignity back, helped them stand on their own two feet proudly. People like Peter Yearling and his mother and son.

People like her. And it was no form of pity. It was just who the two brothers were. Wholesome and caring, loving and generous. She laughed a little. She felt like she was in love with both of them.

And now that Victor had Franz doing the spying, she didn’t have to work there.

She didn’t ever have to work there again.

Was she really going to give up the club? All that her life had been to that point changed in the space of three months, and was pulling her in a new direction. All she’d been in Pittsburgh was shifting into her new status as the live-in girlfriend of one of the most powerful and wealthy men in the city.

So far, she and Nathaniel had a pillow fight, played hide and seek in the house, gone out riding on his horses, had a most excellent dinner in the formal dining room, and danced in the ballroom until they were too exhausted to move. They had taken Sylvia to the mall, and helped Victor with her all weekend so Laurel could have the weekend off.

On top of all that, they’d ‘christened’ more than ten of the rooms in the house, never mind how many times they had made it to their bedroom or her old one. They had two serious play sessions that went off perfectly, and she’d determined she needed to order at least two more of the bustiers that made Nathaniel so happy.
Don’t lie.
Made both of them happy.

And Emmy was, she had to admit, deliriously happy. She was smiling all the time, she was light-hearted and felt like she was walking on air. She loved her job, the house, the friendship she was building with Chantal, Gwen, and a few other girls, and she had even emailed a few of her better friends from college to see what they were up to. She loved her boss, and most of all she loved his brother.

She was terrified of losing it all.

“That’s the nature of life, though, Emmy,” Mueller reminded her. “It’s impermanent, temporary. We only get one go around, as far as we know. You have to seize what makes you happy and hold on tight.”

“It was just such a shock to the system when Franz asked if I was quitting.”

“It’s been your whole life since you were sixteen.” His tone was gentle. “It’s a huge change, but isn’t it the one we’ve been moving toward all this time? You’ll never be able to completely move away from the lifestyle, because I can see you actually enjoy it. But you’ve found someone to play along with you. That first morning you were there in his bed, after you agreed to move in, you said you had sex. What was that like?”

“Tender, slow, sweet.” She remembered. “We connected on some other level than top and bottom. It’s happened a few times since then.”

Mueller raised an eyebrow. “A few…Emmy, there are people out there who could never keep up with your sex drive.” He smiled. “Anyway, you said another level. What kind of level?”

“Separate from the usual give and take. It was like, I didn’t care about what was happening with my body, only his. I only cared that he was satisfied.”

“You’re making love with him, Emmy,” Mueller explained. “Deeper than, forgive me, a fuck, or sex, or even passionate sex. You’re connecting on a deep mental level where the other person’s desires trump yours. You’ve never had that before, have you?”

Emmy shook her head. “No. Never. It’s…amazing. You can live on that feeling.”

“And most couples do,” Mueller said. “You’ve brought the kink, and he’s brought the norm. Your challenge now is to meld them, figure out how much love you need and how much kink he wants. And I think, Emmy, you’re ready to let go of the club. I can’t tell you ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but I feel like if you’re willing to let it go, you’ll be fine without it.”

Give up the club?

Was she really ready?

Emmy snuggled into Nathaniel’s arm as they watched some god-awful movie he and Victor were quoting all the lines to. She rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower, Nathaniel. Since you two are having such a blast with this.”

“We can turn it off,” he offered, sitting up.

“No, no,” she said, waving over her shoulder and walking out of the room. “You two need some quality bondage.” She heard them crack up laughing a moment later at her intentional misuse of the word. She wandered up the stairs to their room, and pulled out all the shower supplies and slipped into one of the gorgeous pajama sets Nathaniel had bought for her. She was headed for the bathroom when her phone rang.

She picked it up, looking at the caller ID.
Mom!
She slid the lock over and put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Mom!” she chirruped.

“Wrong parent, darling,” came the answer.

Emmy’s legs gave out from under her.

Chapter Ten

“It’s megamaid!” Victor declared. “She’s gone from suck to blow!”

Nathaniel laughed. Every time he heard the line, he cracked up. He’d had a beer too many and couldn’t stop laughing. He fell over on the couch and his eyes landed on the clock. “Oh shit, Vic. It’s one in the morning. We should have been in an hour ago.”

“Whatever, it’s
Spaceballs
,” he said.

“Come on, dude, shut it down. Beddie bye time for the Walsh brothers.”

“Leave it, you just want to go hump your girlfriend,” he teased.

“Mmm, that sounds like a plan,” Nathaniel agreed.

“Ew. Girl sex.” 

Nathaniel sat up and pointed at him. “Get used to it. Sylvia’s a girl.”

“Oh, she’s never dating, never mind having sex.” Victor shook his head.

“Nice, nice, you can dream. Shut it down when you’re done? Lock it up?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Victor said, waving him off.

Nathaniel stood and headed for the stairs. He was a little drunk. He knew he should have stopped drinking right after dinner. But things were just so
right
that he was in good mood and felt like having a few too many. He got half way up the stairs when he heard something he’d never heard before.

Victor appeared in the doorway behind him. “What the hell is that?” he asked. “Is she blasting classical music?”

Nathaniel waved at him to hush, and continued to listen. He turned on the stair to look back at Victor standing there. “Bach. Cello Suite Number One,” Nathaniel breathed. It was one of his favorite pieces of music. “Prelude.”

Victor’s eye bugged out. “Is she playing that?”

Nathaniel nodded and ascended the stairs, following the deep, sonorous sounds of the cello through the hall to Emmy’s old bedroom. The door was partly cracked open, and the light spilled across the hallway. Nathaniel walked up and peered in.

Emmy had her back to the door and she was sitting on a simple wooden chair. Her head was bent forward and he could see her arm moving back for over the strings. The Bach Prelude wasn’t very long, and she paused at the end. He was about to walk in when she moved into another quiet piece and he waited to see if he could identify it.

This one was slow and the cello used both the deep rich tones it could produce, and then reached up and went nearly into the violin range. He could almost hear an orchestra behind her. The melody was sad and long and he realized half way through what she was playing.
The Eternal Vow
, from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.
Good Christ, she’s amazing!

The last note disappeared and she let the tip of the bow fall to the ground, her head still bent. She didn’t move, but he heard something in the room. He watched her for a moment and realized her shoulders were trembling.

She’s crying!
Nathaniel tumbled into the room and dropped to his knees in front of her. “Emmy, what’s wrong?” The tears were streaked down her face, and falling onto the cello. She was red eyed and looked like she’d been crying for a while. She blinked and didn’t seem to understand who he was. “Holy crap, Em. What’s wrong?!”

She shook her head slowly, not moving from her position. Nathaniel grabbed the bow and laid it on the ground next to her. He took the cello and laid it carefully on its side. She was shaking from the tears and sobbing. She couldn’t seem to find words, and he didn’t like seeing her this way. He scooped her off the chair into his arms and carried her out of the room into the hallway.

He put her down on the couch, noticing there were things scattered all over the room. As if someone had been throwing them. Emmy curled into the corner of the couch, still crying. He knelt down and put a hand on her cheek. “Emmy, please. Talk to me.”

“Sean called me,” she said, gasping for breath.

“Sean?” Nathaniel asked.

“My mother’s husband,” she explained.

Oh, God, the step-father.
“What did he say?”

“He said I couldn’t see my mother unless he came out with her.”

“Then we’ll bring him out…”

Her eyes grew large and fearful and she shook her head, clearly panicked. “No! No! I haven’t seen him since I was sixteen!”

“Emmy, you have to explain this to me,” he pleaded. “You’ve said you’ve seen your mother every year, but if that’s your step-father, how could you have avoided him?”

“He never knew I was there,” she explained. “I stayed in a hotel miles from the trailer. Mom and Allison would make day trips to see me. I couldn’t be around him. I couldn’t.
I can’t.
He can’t come near me. There were only two things that got me out of that hell—learning to be a Domme and learning to play cello.” She looked at him, tears still spilling down her face. “I want to see my mother and sister, but I can’t be near him. I just can’t.”

Nathaniel wanted her to explain why, but knew she couldn’t, not yet. He put a hand on either side of her face. “Emmy. You’re safe now. He’s not going to hurt you. He can’t. We’ll get your mom and sister out here and do everything we can to keep him away from you. Can you deal with him just a little bit to see your mother and sister?”

She shook her head. “I don’t…don’t know.” She hiccupped.

There was a knock on the door and it cracked open. “Are you okay, Emmy?” Victor peered in.

She blinked and a few tears fell from her eyes. “No, not really. But I feel better, knowing my boss actually cares.”

Victor pushed the door open, and Nathaniel could see he had a very sleepy baby on his shoulder. “Don’t you ever doubt that, little girl,” he said, walking in. “Don’t you ever doubt that my brother or I care. You’re an awesome, amazing person, Emmy. I don’t know what’s going on, but we’ll help you.”

She smiled at him, weakly. “Did I wake the baby?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “But she was listening to you, not crying.” He looked at Nathaniel, then back to Emmy. “Will you play something else? She really was listening.”

She looked at Nathaniel, who shrugged an ‘up to you’. She stood on shaking legs and they followed her back into the other room. Victor sat down on the bed with Sylvia on his shoulder and Nathaniel plunked into the chair across from her. She sat down and picked up the cello from the floor, setting it between her knees. She picked up the bow and quickly ran through a scale. Nathaniel saw the baby turn her head to see where the sound was coming from.

Emmy cleared her throat, and drew the bow across the first string delicately. She started to hum a bit, though the sound more of an “Ooh”. The sounds were soft and gentle and Nathaniel saw the baby’s eyes widen. Emmy closed her eyes and after a short hummed melody the cello took over completely. The deep, sweet sounds filled the room, and a moment later he saw Quinn, Joanne and Laurel, and two of the security guards in the door.

Half way through the piece, she started to hum again in harmonization with what she was delicately coaxing from the cello. Nathaniel looked at Sylvia again, and she was wide awake but completely taken by the sounds in the room with her. He couldn’t blame the kid. He hadn’t heard anyone play a cello like this ever.

She was swaying with the sounds she was creating. It filled the room and caressed them, and the staid sadness of the piece seemed to permeate the walls and floor. He felt like he was being carried away by a cool autumn breeze, like a leaf from where it sat on a branch, turning from green to yellow, and fading to brown. The harmonization sounded as though she were mourning for the falling beauty. The sounds from the cello rose in a crescendo one last time, and then faded out as her voice trailed away.

“What was that?” Victor asked quietly. Sylvia was staring at Emmy.

“Rachmaninoff, Vocalise, Opus 14,” Emmy stated softly. She looked at Victor and Nathaniel could see the tears in her eyes again. “My father, my real father, used to play that for me when I couldn’t sleep.” She ran a hand down the body of the instrument. “This was his.”

They all stilled for a moment, as though the music wasn’t really over. The sound of that piece was going to haunt him. He saw the baby’s eyes start to shut, peacefully, and Victor stood. He walked over to where Emmy was trying to hold back tears. He put a hand on her shoulder and looked down at her. “You are amazing.” He walked out with the baby, shooing everyone out of the doorway, closing it.

Nathaniel walked over to her as the door closed. He once again moved the cello to the side with the bow. He took her hands and helped her stand from the chair, then tipped her chin up to look at him. “I had no idea. You said you could play, but I had no idea you could make the bricks of this house weep with you.”

“I’m not—”

He put a finger to her lips. “You are. Victor was right. You’re amazing. You have spoiled all music for me with that, and I am happy you have. You have to promise me something.” She blinked and waited for him. “You have to fill this house with those sounds. Please. Play.”

“I love and hate that thing,” she said.

“That music didn’t come from the instrument, it came from you,” he said. He put a hand on her chest. “From here.”

“Every time I play it,” she said softly, “I remember him. I remember all the promises and plans he made to me. I remember him playing me to sleep when I was little. All the fun we had in Europe, the day he proposed to Sarinya and she told me how excited she was to have a daughter. The sounds of his cello in the concert hall above all the others, in the quartets and the solos. All those wonderful things, and then the telegram.”

Nathaniel didn’t move when she stopped. He just held her against him, praying she’d go on.

“The cold telegram. Emerson, stop. Paul and Sarinya Westerly killed in car accident, stop. Deepest condolences, stop. Jans Rubinovich Yakutz. Stop. Who sends telegrams anymore? Uncle Charlie went over to take care of everything. He didn’t want Sean anywhere near the estate. Sean wouldn’t let me go to my own father’s funeral. Uncle Charlie stopped in Boston on the way back to drop off the cello and a letter. Sean flipped about the cello. It was too big, I was untalented, he’d use it for firewood.

“Uncle Charlie took it with him, back home here,” Emmy said. “The letter was from the lawyer, who said that because there were considerations, the entire estate and inheritance was in trust with Uncle Charlie until I turned twenty-five.

“Charlie fought the courts for four years trying to get custody of me, but because my mother was still alive, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. At sixteen, he invited me out and told me I was now of the age of consent and could choose where to live. I didn’t hesitate. I moved in with him without so much as a goodbye to my mother and sister.”

Nathaniel walked her over to the bed and sat down. He helped her put her feet up and arrange herself on the bed. Lying down with her, he wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t have to wonder long if she was going to keep going.

“Uncle Charlie introduced me to Franz,” she said. “He had
no
idea Franz ran a training house. None. But what they both found out was that I was self-destructive, self-depreciating, self-medicating with Xanax and klonopins. Charlie didn’t know what to do. Franz did.” He felt her trembling in his arms. “The first time he tried to make me sub, I broke. He had to sedate me, send me to a behavioral hospital for a stay. He told me from that point on, I would never sub. I would take control of the situation as a Domme.”

She rolled over on her back to look at him. He wiped the tears off her face. “Franz and I were together for almost two years, while he trained me. We weren’t exclusive, but more often than not we turned to each other. Don’t hate him, please.”

“I don’t,” Nathaniel said. “I rather like him, in fact.” He smiled at her and ran a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “Whatever it was he taught you brought you here to me. I can’t hate him for something he was to you.” He laughed lightly. “That would be like you being jealous of Jillian.”

“You’re so rational.” She patted his chest. 

He looked at her. “Do you…” He cleared his throat. “Do you want a night at the club?”

She looked at him, her expression unreadable. She considered him a moment, and he wanted to hold his breath. He didn’t even know if he wanted the answer to be a yes or a no. Rolling to face him, she ran her fingers through his hair. “You…understand…”

“I do.” He nodded.

“…and for the first time in my life, I don’t need it.” She touched his face. “You’re enough. You make me feel safe. I am in control, here with you.” She smiled, a sweet, ironic smile and sang quietly. “
Kiss me too fiercely.
”
Her voice was soft and lilting as she offered him the words from one of her favorite musicals.

He knew the words, and laughed pulling her closer to him. “Do you want to see your mother?”

“Yes,” she said. “My mother and my sister.”

“Then we’ll make it happen. I promise. Even if your step-father has to come with them, we’ll make it work.” He sang more lyrics to the song she had chosen. “
As long as you’re mine
.” He kissed her nose sweetly.  

She smiled at him. “You know ‘Wicked’?”

“Gwen loves it,” he said. “She plays it all the time when we’re working on something. She’s a Broadway nut. I usually give her a weekend and tickets for Christmas.”

“You two spoil everyone, don’t you?”

“What good is being disgustingly wealthy if you can’t spend it to make others happy?”

He leaned into her, kissing her softly. Running her hands up his back slowly, she lifted his shirt. Spreading her hands as wide as she could, it seemed she was trying to feel every inch of him. Enjoying the kiss, Nathaniel let her do what she wanted.

She slid her hands into the back of his pants and pulled him to her. His hands found the top button of her satin pajamas and started down slowly. Pulling back, she looked at him sadly. “No.”

His hands were gone from the button and skimmed down to her bottoms, sliding them down. “I can work around that.” He slid them easily off her legs. The smooth, soft skin was always a delight to his fingers; never would he tire of feeling this as he undressed her.

“That what I like about you Walsh boys,” she complimented him with a teasing smile. “Always so innovative.”

The sweatpants were pushed away, down over his hips, but not off. Reaching down, she touched his erection, taking it in hand and moving over it. She was keeping her breath slow, but she was just as turned on as he was. Nathaniel slipped his hand down to her sex and found her already wet.

“Are you ever not ready?” he asked quietly.

“For you, never.” She breathed carefully. With a leg over his hip, she pulled him even closer. “I liked this when we tried it last time.”

“I like just about anything with you, Emmy,” he said, and angled himself to slide inside her and fill her.

A hum of delight escaped her, and using the leg she’d tossed over him she pulled herself down onto his shaft and push back off. Nathaniel loved the feel of her leg behind his ass, but he was amazed how much she was able to put into the movement. “Isn’t this a little too much work?” he asked, quietly.

“No. Sometime.” She leaned in and kissed him. “Remind me to show you a few of the really intense ones.”

“I am your student, mistress.” He kissed her a little harder.

Between the angle and the intensity of the feelings the position caused, Nathaniel could tell they were both going to come quickly. This was what Emmy needed; even though she’d turned down the club, she needed this between them. The slow thrust of her hips had him responding with his own thrusts, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. “Oh, Emmy.”