Subfrenzy (the Subfrenzied Series) (2 page)

“
Of course, Quinn. I'm Clara. I think we got through at least that much small talk.” I ignored my paranoia. I'd never been to Atlantic City. “I'm flattered you remember.”

“
Yes, you left an impression. I was sorry we didn't get past the introductions.”

“
There
was
a lot going on, I-”

“
That's nice, old acquaintances. You seem good now, so...” she turned expectantly to Quinn.

He
offered me his lighter when I pulled out the empty pack of matches. “I've got another. Keep it in case you need one later.”

The
woman moved closer to put her hand on his arm. He looked down at her and I felt him become politely distant again.
She pressed herself against his side, not-so-gently turning him toward her.

“
I
am
kinda cold.”

“
I'm going to have another cigarette. Feel free to go back inside, where it's warm-”

“
But we weren't done talking yet. Remember what I was asking you about before... her?” she dismissively gestured at me.

“
The ab thing? I can't invest with you right now. Everything I have is tied into the company.”

“
You remember my plan, right? Considering your cut when they hit the market, it's really nothing, because-”

“
Because I have nothing to invest,” he said, his eyes cold and hard.

“
Yeah,” she sighed, “sure. Whatever.”

The
air was heavy with her sarcasm. Until the door closed behind her.

“
Sorry about that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She was... Thank you for going along with that.”

“
It was the least I could do.” I felt warmth emanating from him when he stood closer to me. “I'm Claire, Clara. I didn't make that part up.”

“
Quinn Emerson.” He had a strong handshake, though he didn't hurt my hand. I appreciated that, too.

“
That cramp locked your entire side. I felt how bad it was. You sure you're okay?”

“
Better than okay.” A party of six arrived and went into the bar. They left a few seconds later. I put my cigarette out and watched him do the same. The silence stretched. I couldn't help glancing back toward the doors.

“
Going back in?”

“
Yes. You?”

“
For a little while, yes.” He opened one of them for me.

“
It was nice meeting you, Quinn.” Moments went by as I walked past him, but I didn't hear what he said when the bar sounds roared around us again.

When
I glanced back, he was ordering a drink. Work mentality descended as I got closer to my place at the table. I didn't want to stay any longer. Diane wasn't swamped with people.

“
Congratulations,” I accepted her automatic hug. “We're going to miss you around the office.”

She
was distracted as more people hedged in bearing cards and flower bouquets. They made a wonderful cover, and my place at the table would be much appreciated.

“
Night for now, Tom.”

“
Talk to me for a minute. Your group won't be able to see you over there. In that corner.”
Quinn was sitting where he had pointed. There were two empty seats near him. “
Why not see what happens?”

“
How do you know-?”

“
I was cleaning the bar. Saw you three, two, through the window,” he said. “He's definitely interested, if you were wondering.”

“
I'm not sure if I want to be interested in him.”

“
How long has it been since your last... anything? Three years? Four?”

“
I've been busy. Really busy. And it's only been two years, thank you very much.”

He
winced. “That's too long for me to think about.”

“
I'm not just looking to get laid, Tom.”

“
That's romantic. Good for you.”

“
I'm not exactly looking for that, either. This isn't the place to talk about it.” I sighed. “It's complicated.”

“
Maybe he likes complicated. Go get his number. That's simple.”

“
I've got ten minutes, maybe. More people are going to start leaving soon-”

“
'I'm late, I'm late-'
he said, sounding like Alice's white rabbit. “Go.”

“
Jeez, you're domineering tonight. What's the-”

“
No wonder you're going.” He flashed me his sly grin. “I'm proud of you.”

The
familiarity I'd felt with Quinn didn't make me feel any less awkward. He had half a bottle of beer and his back was turned, sitting where he was at the bar. Sensing movement, he glanced over at me when I was a few feet away. His eyes warmed, and the bright lighting made me realize his eyes were light green, the blue in them so light it seemed gray.

“
Hello again. …Is anyone sitting there?” 

“
You, if you want to,” he replied, moving the chair back for me. “Clara--? I don't believe I got your last name.”

“
Gillian.”

He
glanced down at the way I was sitting. “Are you on your way out?”

“
I just escaped from co-workers, and I
was
on my way out...”

Quinn
nodded, bringing his hands together around the beer bottle. “I'll hope to run into you again sometime, then.”

I
got out of the chair and felt seconds tick by. “I'm not sure how much you smoke, but d'you want to step outside for another cigarette?”

“
... Sure.” He grabbed a light weight winter jacket. Black, to match the color of his shirt and shoes. “After you?”

When he had trouble lighting his cigarette, I lit mine and offered him the end.

“
Thank you, this time.”

He was charming, polite, reserved. “
Thanks for coming back out into the cold again.”

The things I saw in him made me want to see more, my inner vision focusing to get details. His energy was calming, yet he felt very masculine. Self-assured. It was there in the way he was standing, how he held his cigarette. 

“Co-workers, you said?
”

“
I'm sure you heard us. It's a retirement party, thing.”

“
Good for them,” he commented without any traces of bitterness. It was refreshing, after hearing about Diane all day in tones varying from painfully feigned happiness to the borderline of bitter.

“
Mind if I ask what you do?” I asked, blaming the alcohol for my awkwardness.

“
I'm a financial analyst.”

“
... I don't know anything about that. I'm sorry.”

“
I help my clients manage their money, or I help small businesses and companies become more efficient.” Quinn shrugged casually. “That's pretty much it.
What about you?”             

“
I work at an Entertainment law firm. Assistant to an attorney.”

“
It's rude to ask, I know, but, um, can you give me an age range, if not your actual age? I'm usually better at gauging.”

“
Twenty-four,” I answered honestly. “And you?”

“
Thirty.”

He
moved quickly, but I had seen the door opening. It was nice of him to try and shield me from it. Four people from work came out of the bar and headed toward their cars. I was glad they couldn't see me behind him.

“
You don't look thirty.”

“
Thank you.” Quinn looked at me in a way I couldn't read. “You don't look twenty-four.”

“
Thanks.”

He
reached into his back pocket to hand me a business card.
“Call or text me if you want to get dinner sometime.”

“
I will. Here's mine, for you.” Aside from smoking past the filter, I was done with my cigarette. As was he.

“
Where are you parked?”

“
Right there,” I pointed to the fourth car on our right. “Are you far from here?”

'I'm
just across the street.”  His car was dark blue, more for speed than convenience. Mine was a regular, four-door sedan. He threw the butt of his cigarette into the gutter. “It was really nice meeting you, Clara. Thank you again.”

-
Chapter 2
-
~ Paralyzer ~

“
A
re you as bored as I am?”

“
Maybe,” I replied, tabbing out of my word document.  “C'mon in, Lane.”

“
Maybe, or yes? I want to start the New Year off right. Don't you?”

My
eyes widened as I glanced over.
She had talked about it for years, even before we moved in together as roommates, but I hadn't thought it would happen. I had seen her with black hair, brown, as a blonde with highlights, other random punk colors. Her natural color was golden red, soft and wavy, though it wasn't long enough to reach below her waist anymore. The ends barely touched the top of her shoulders.

“
It was finally long enough to donate. Come out with me tonight and celebrate! I guarantee you'll like where I want to go.”

I
smiled, almost accepting that I'd be going out. “That's what you said about the party for New Year's Eve. I went. Remember my three day rule about social... things? I just went to that party for Diane yesterday, and-”

“
But it's Saturday, Clara... The new year is only a week old. C'
mon
.” She smiled in her charming, persuasive way, which usually worked. I Alt-tabbed back into my document and settled into my chair.

The
one thing I wasn't immune to were her eyes. They were almost purple, framed with long, dark eyelashes. When she wanted to do something I didn't, I had to avoid looking at her or I'd be sucked into her plans.

“
Your hair really does look incredible.”

“
You're high already, aren't you? Or is it work that has you so scattered tonight?”

“
Like you said, it's the weekend.” I found my pipe hiding behind my keyboard. “I'm actually not that high yet.”

“
You're only supposed to smoke pot when you have a migraine, y'know.”

“
I'm using it to stave one off.”

“
Fine,” she smirked, “you do that. I'm hyper from caffeine. Ask me where we're going.”

“
Where are you going, Lane?”

“
We. I'm taking you to
Rack's
tonight.”

“
Where?”

“
The club
Rack's
, about half an hour from here.”

“
I don't think we're talking about the same place.
The club
Rack'
s, in downtown Montclair?
”

It
was an s/m club. So far as I knew, that wasn't her crowd.

“
Yes, love. I've only lived here for four years. I know where it is. When's the last time you were on a date?” she switched topics. “Or, not even a date. When's the last time you wanted someone... not as a friend?”

“
You and Tom are in-sync again. Every few months, the two of you worry about my lack of a sex life. Usually at the same time. If I want to get laid, or date, as you put it, I'll... I might have found someone already. Yesterday, actually.”

“
Rreeaally.”she said, sounding surprised and pleased for me.
“
What's he like?”

“
I'm not sure yet. We didn't get past polite conversation.” He was quick to react and courteous, I remembered that much
.
“
He's a financial... something. Adviser? Consultant? Definitely not an accountant.”

“
No, I meant-- Now's the time, I guess.” She got off the bed and went to browse through my books. Apprehension curled in my stomach when she stopped in front of the third bookshelf.                                                                    

“
All the new books I bought are on the second shelf, toward the-- Or not.”

“
I was looking for something to read a few weeks ago.” She flipped the first row backwards to see the titles behind them. “Interesting novels. You love categorizing by theme. Too bad I've been reading by theme or I would have found these a while ago.”

My
collection of s/m novels. There were two long rows of them, hidden behind text-books I'd collected. I watched as she fixed the over-turned books, not knowing how to reply.

“
If you had one or two, I might not have noticed. But all of these-? Was it wrong to say something?”

“
Of course not.”

Writing
definitely wasn't going to be happening.
I
felt frozen and distant, wishing I'd left the books in their boxes in my closet. Lane would have said it was subconsciously done, me wanting her to find out so I'd be able to talk about it with someone.
Did I want to talk?

“
It wasn't wrong,” I said. “I do have some experience with s/m.”

Her
eyebrow rose slightly when she looked at me, moving away from the bookshelves. “I'm not judging you. You know me. If I'm being too pushy, let me know.”

“
I know you're not judging. You're not being pushy.”

“
I saw your blog on the office computer. I lost one of my tabs and you didn't clear the history, so...”

“
How much have you read?”

“
Most if it.”

I
laughed. “You really know how much I like s/m, then, huh?”

“
I started researching bdsm because of it, for my Psych. thesis paper. You're not mad, are you?”

“
I'm not. It's open for public reading. I'm really not mad.”              I appreciated how serious she had become. Normally confident, and airily so, I was stunned by how unsure she seemed. “What are you researching?”

“
I've read a lot about the psychology behind s/m, hence why I want to hit
Rack's
tonight. I want to see it first-hand.”

“
It's Saturday, the only night they allow pain to be inflicted. Or received. Sure you don't want to wait until tomorrow? Or next Friday?”

“
Tomorrow's based around pleasure. Friday's bondage techniques.”

“
Right. Exactly. It might be better to go on a night that won't-”

“
People who feel pleasure from taking pain fascinate me. This could be my spark. The topic that makes my paper stand out, you know?”

“
Yes, trust me. I know how worried you've been. What other topics have you come up with?”

“
I haven't. Why?”

“
Sure you don't want to go to
Rack's
on a different night?”

“
I've prepared. I watched a lot of informational videos online, most of them about pain and pleasure. I want to see the real version.”

“
Okay.” She sounded sure. I wasn't worried for her anymore.

“
That's the second time you've asked.
” Her eyes narrowed, growing sharper. “It's been a while since you last went. Did something happen?”

“
No, I started working. You know what a big opportunity that was. I really needed it to work, so...”

“
Works been going well for you,” she prompted.

“
I'll go with you, sure. I like
Rack's
.”

“
It's is the safest s/m club around, according to what I've read. I mean, 'Rack' stands for Risk Aware Consensual Kink, right?”

“
Exactly. Like SSC.”

“
Safe, sane, and consensual. If I do my paper about s/m, and other factors, of course, would you-” she stopped herself and almost looked embarrassed. “Only if you'd be comfortable with, y'know-?”

“
That depends on what you want me to do.”

“
Share your insights, mostly. That's all. I could make up a different name for you, or go the Anonymous route.”

“
Just talking? Yeah, sure, I'll help if I can.”

S
he stood and looked at herself in my full length closet mirror. “I'm going to go change. I got a corset and heels, a skirt that's not really short, but it's... you'll see. Tell me if I look weird.” 

“
You're not going to look
weird. What
time do you want to leave?”

“
It's not
that
far away. The club opens at eight. We can get food on the way?”

My
computer told me it was fifteen minutes to seven. “Good plan.”

“
Mind going over a few psych. things with me before we go?”

“
No problem.”

“
Cool. I'll set up in the living room.”

Lane
was in her room. I leaned against my door.
Rack's
on pain-play night? I stumbled toward my closet, my legs feeling numb. Catching my reflection in the closet mirror made me stop and stare for a moment. My cheeks were flushed. I felt how fast my heart was pounding. The dark, hungry look in my eyes was what alarmed me.
Once the hunger started to show, more effort was needed to conceal it.
I needed to find someone before I couldn't blink it away. I'd never reached that point, and I didn't want to.

While
showering, I couldn't help thinking back to the books Lane had discovered, then my other trips to the club. When my grasp on control was tenuous, my masochistic side pushed, wanting me to embrace recklessness. I braced my hands on the cool shower wall, refusing to give in.
Not yet. I couldn't yet.
My judgment was skewed, which meant that looking for someone had to wait. It
had
to, until I found the dominance my submission craved. I automatically reached for my towel and fell into my routine.

C
alming numbness descended, but my submissive side was withering away. I felt it fading, retreating further and further every time I mentally pushed it away. Fear rammed into the mental walls I'd created. I smiled, the masochist's smile, sure they'd hold for another night. My reflection nodded back at me, looking normal. Long, black eyelashes, I'd inherited from my mother. My dark blue eyes could have been from either side of the family, though my long, straight black hair was definitely from my mother's line. I was taller than average thanks to my father, with his lean build. If a potential Dominant found me attractive, he wouldn't find my submissive side lacking.

I
knew what I'd be wearing.
 

*
  *  *
 

“
D
o
I look okay?” Lane asked when I got into the living room. 

“
Better than okay.” Wearing a dark blue, plaid skirt, six inch black stiletto heels, and a black corset that emphasized her slim figure, I didn't understand her sudden insecurity. 

“
You too,” she grinned at me. “You look like yourself again.”

My
light gray and black bustier contrasted nicely with the paleness of my skin, the dark silver choker around my neck matching the corset color. I wore a plain, black leather skirt with heels instead of boots, as per her suggestion. 

“
Want a drink before I start the Inquisition?”

“
I think there's some pineapple juice in the fridge. No alcohol for me.”

The
way she walked was utterly feminine, her movements graceful and seductive. “We really need to go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“
Yeah, we do. I feel like we've just moved in.”

There
was no fruit on the counter, we were out of energy bars, and the containers that usually held trail mixes were empty. It was a small space, but it wasn't usually so barren. The glass candy dish on our heavy glass coffee table was empty, as were the small containers on our folding end tables. Our couch was between them, large and dark purple, dangerously comfortable.

I lit incense, the wooden holders on top of our entertainment cabinet. A flat-screen television was protected from our animals by wooden doors, our game systems by the drawers we modified for game cables. Lane had hung tapestry curtains on the plain white walls, and we had split the cost for a dark blue and black carpet that fit perfectly under the table and part of the couch.

“I told you that Landlord Mitch stopped by, right? He wanted to check the house and drop off updated rental papers for us to sign. I signed. You did, too?”

“
Yup,” I nodded. “We're good for another year. They're already in the mail.” 

“
Cool. I don't want to lose this place.”