Frisky Business (32 page)

‘True. But if he
is
kinky, it would be mean to lead him on and leave him hanging.’

‘So what do you suggest I do?’

‘Why don’t you bring something you think you could handle if he wanted to use it on you? You can explain to him that you’re just a beginner and you’re not ready for the advanced stuff.’

‘God, I don’t know,’ Romy fretted.

‘Do you still want to have a relationship with him, if it turns out he’s into this, or is it a total deal-breaker?’

‘He’s still Luke’s father,’ Romy said uncertainly. ‘I suppose I’d still want to give it a go.’

‘Well,
you could let him spank you. That wouldn’t be too weird, would it?’

‘No … as long as I never had to see him again as long as I live.’

‘How about bondage, then? You could let him tie you up and use a vibrator on you or something.’

‘Yeah, that mightn’t be too bad.’ She thought about the blindfold – that had been sexy. She wouldn’t mind doing that again.

‘That’s the spirit! Before you know it, you’ll be letting him hoist you up to the ceiling in one of those harness contraptions.’

‘Hmmm,’ Romy said doubtfully.

‘Well, keep an open mind. And maybe you’ll be able to compromise – find something that’s not too icky for you but would still keep him happy.’

Romy grimaced. ‘I really don’t think I could ever get into this stuff. Imagine having to call your boyfriend “Sir”.’

‘Or “Master”.’

‘Eew!’ Romy squealed.

‘And if someone gave me a pat on the head for being a good girl, I’d plant him! But what if it was the other way around – you calling the shots, him being the slave?’

Romy shook her head. ‘I still don’t think I could do it.’

‘Well, maybe he could get cured,’ Lesley said hopefully. ‘He could try hypnotherapy!’

‘I don’t think it’s really something you get cured of.’

‘I don’t see why not. I know lots of people who managed to quit smoking by being hypnotised. I don’t see why it couldn’t help fight the urge to truss up your girlfriend just as well. I mean I know it’s not PC to say it, but let’s face it – it’s not normal, is it?’

‘Even if it could work, he’d have to want to quit. If he does this stuff, it’s because he likes it.’

‘People
like smoking. They still want to quit.’

‘Hmm.’ Romy wasn’t convinced. ‘Anyway, chances are he isn’t into S&M at all,’ she said briskly. ‘But I wonder what his secret life is, if not this?’

‘Well, there is another possibility,’ Lesley said tentatively.

‘Oh? What’s that?’

‘He could be gay.’

‘He’s not gay.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Hello! He used to be my boyfriend, remember? I think I’d know if he was gay.’

‘Look at the evidence. It would explain the butt plug. And he thinks you have good gaydar because of Danny. That’s why he thought you were able to guess his secret. It all fits. And who needs a fake girlfriend more than a gay man who’s not out? He wants you to be his beard. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.’

‘Maybe because I spent two years joined to him at the mouth,’ Romy said dryly.

‘Ah, but not joined to him at your rude bits. That’s the giveaway. Besides, that was a hundred years ago. He could have changed.’

‘Are you forgetting that he’s Luke’s father?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ Lesley’s face fell. ‘But you said he was a bit freaked out about the whole thing. Maybe he doesn’t normally shag women.’

Romy gasped as Kit’s words came back to her. He’d had sex before, but
‘not like that’.
‘Oh! I think you could be right.’

‘Well, this is your perfect opportunity to find out for sure. We can make it a two-pronged honey trap. If he doesn’t bite with the BDSM stuff, you could try seducing him – the plain old vanilla way. At least you don’t need any special equipment for that – well, nothing you haven’t already got.’

‘I
don’t know …’

‘Come on, Romy. You’re considering getting into a relationship with the guy. You need to know if he’s gay. I mean if you think the kinky sex is a deal-breaker, how would you feel about no sex at all?’

‘Oh!’ Romy chewed her lip. She had to admit Lesley had a point. ‘Right. I’ll see if May has something I can borrow in the morning. There’s something I need to see her about anyway.’

The following morning, before setting off for Hannah’s hen party, Romy called on May on the pretext of returning her books, but really because she wanted to inspect the shelves Kit had put up.

‘Hello, Romy,’ the old lady greeted her as she ushered her in.

‘Hi, May. I just thought I’d return your books,’ Romy said, sailing past her into the flat.

‘Oh, thank you. But there was no need to return them so soon. Keep them for as long as you like. Would you like a cup of coffee?’

‘That’d be lovely, thanks. Why don’t I put these books on the shelf for you, and then we can discuss them over coffee? I have a few, um, questions.’

‘Oh, excellent!’ May’s eyes lit up. ‘You can just give them to me, dear.’

Romy handed the books over reluctantly, and May led her through to the kitchen. ‘Oh, by the way, Kit left his tools here after he put up those shelves. Perhaps you’d take them for him? I’ve knocked a few times but I never seem to get him in.’

‘Sure. He’s away for the weekend. I’ll give them to him when he gets back.’

‘Here
we are.’ May rooted in a corner of the kitchen and then presented Romy with a tool box. It looked normal enough.

While May busied herself making coffee, Romy sat at the little table and opened the box. There was nothing unusual in the top tray, full of screws, nails and rawl plugs, but her heart sank when she lifted it out and saw what was inside – a hammer, scissors, screwdrivers, spirit level, even a little saw, all with pretty floral handles. They were the sort of tools you would buy in an upmarket department store rather than a DIY emporium or hardware shop – the sort of tools that were marketed as Christmas gift ideas for women. Still, she told herself as she pulled out the hammer and weighed it in her hand, a hammer was a hammer. It seemed heavy enough, and just because it had a decorative handle didn’t make it any less functional. Her attempts to reassure herself were only marginally successful, however. She would still feel uneasy until she saw those shelves for herself.

‘So you had some questions?’ May said, placing a cafetière of coffee on the table along with two china cups and sitting opposite Romy.

‘Oh, yes.’ Romy racked her brain for something she could ask May. She already knew way more than she wanted to about her tenant’s sexual exploits. ‘Well, it’s not so much a question,’ she said finally, ‘but I was wondering if you’d have something I could borrow. I was thinking of trying one of those, um … pinwheel things.’ She and Lesley had explored the sex shop websites the previous night and decided that was a suitably obscure looking toy. Like a cross between a spoon and a mini pizza cutter, it also had the advantage of being small and easy to throw in a bag.

‘Oh, yes,’ May said, with a delighted smile. ‘I’m sure I’d have one of those in my box of tricks. We can have a look later. Was that all?’

‘Would
that be quite recognisable to anyone who was involved in BDSM?’ she asked. ‘I mean would it be something quite commonly used?’

‘Oh, yes, anyone in the lifestyle should know what that was – and what to do with it.’

‘Good.’

‘You can have a lot of fun with that,’ May said with a twinkle in her eye. ‘If there’s anything else you’d like to try, just let me know.’

‘Thanks.’ Romy sipped her coffee. ‘You obviously enjoyed this … lifestyle,’ she said.

‘I loved it. It answered a very deep need in me at the time. I found it very liberating.’

‘Liberating? Really?’ Romy thought of the images of May bound and restrained. It looked anything but liberating.

‘The irony isn’t lost on me,’ May said, with a smile.

‘So why did you give it up?’

‘My dom died,’ she said sadly.

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘Thank you, dear,’ she said. ‘I could have found another, of course. But we had a real relationship and I found I didn’t want to submit to anyone else after him. Many dom/sub partnerships don’t have any romantic or emotional side to them at all – they’re more like business relationships. But we loved each other, and when he died, well, I didn’t want to replace him.’

‘How old were you when he died?’

‘I was about thirty-five.’

‘So you never went back to being a sub?’

‘No. I felt I’d already explored that aspect of sexuality to the full anyway. I would have found it too limiting to continue. Not that it was restricting while I was with Marcus, because we had more. But to go back and start again with someone else …’ She shook her head.

‘So
what did you do then?’

She smiled wryly. ‘I ran away and joined the circus – literally.’

‘Really?’ Romy breathed.

‘Yes. I joined a circus in Barcelona and travelled all over Spain with them for a year.’

‘As a trapeze artist?’ Romy asked, thinking of the photos of May suspended from the ceiling on ropes. Her time as a sub must have qualified her for some pretty complicated acrobatics.

‘Oh no, dear! Nothing so exciting. As a wardrobe mistress. I sewed the costumes. Very dull, I’m afraid.’

It sounded anything but dull. And at least her job description still included the word ‘mistress’, Romy thought.

‘It was an exciting time, though,’ May said, smiling fondly as she reminisced. And I met the most marvellous people. There was a Jamaican acrobat …’ She trailed off, draining her coffee. ‘Well,’ she said briskly, ‘shall we go and look for that pinwheel?’

‘I just want to have a look at those shelves Kit put up for you too,’ Romy said as she followed May through to the sitting room.

‘Oh, yes, I’m very happy with them,’ May said over her shoulder. ‘Didn’t I tell you? There they are,’ she said as they entered the room, pointing to the shelves running along an alcove – at a distinct angle.

‘Oh, May, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’

‘Aren’t they great?’ May beamed at her, to Romy’s astonishment.

‘Well, they’re …’

‘They’re the perfect height for me to reach, and he even painted them the exact colour I wanted.’

‘They’re fine, I suppose, as long as you don’t want to use them
as actual shelves. But if you were thinking of putting anything on them—’

‘Oh!’ May frowned. ‘Don’t you think they look strong?’

Romy stepped closer, examining the brackets underneath the shelves, which barely adhered to the wall. She jiggled a shelf a little and it wobbled precariously. ‘No. To be honest, I think they’ll collapse if you put so much as a card on them.’

‘Really?’ May squinted at the shelves through narrowed eyes.

‘But there’s no danger of that,’ Romy reassured her, ‘because anything you put on them would slide right off. They’re at an angle.’

‘Are they?’ May peered at the shelves. ‘I can’t say I’d noticed. But my eyesight’s not what it used to be.’

‘Anyway, don’t worry about it. I’ll fix them.’

‘I’m very happy with them,’ May said, folding her arms and giving Romy a challenging look, as if daring her to criticise Kit’s work further. ‘I think he’s done a fine job.’

‘But I can’t leave them like this, May.’

‘Well, maybe you could tell him what’s wrong and he could fix them himself. He’s coming back next week anyway, to put up our swing.’

Romy gulped. ‘There’s no way I can let him put up the swing, May. You’ll get killed.’ Wonky shelving was one thing, but there was no way she was going to trust Kit to install a sex swing that would have to bear the weight of two cavorting old folks. She certainly didn’t want to be the one to have to rescue them when it came crashing to the ground.

‘Oh.’ May paled.

‘I’ll put up the swing myself.’

‘Well, perhaps that would be best. But could you put it to Kit in a way that won’t hurt his feelings? And please don’t mention the shelves to him. He’s such a lovely young man, and
I’m sure he did his best. Maybe we could just leave them as they are?’