Soft Skills (5 page)

A few people in the crowd laughed. They were watching to see what would come next. Even the black-clad women watched Elle and Cunningham closely, their shiny red lips moist, their eyes gleaming in hopeful anticipation.

Cunningham took her hand and led her to the car. “Stand with your legs open,” he ordered. He went into the glovebox and pulled out a box of moistened wipes, and he handed a few to Elle. “Clean yourself up and fix your clothes.”

Her excitement had been so great that she had quite a bit of work, but she made herself presentable.

The crowd was beginning to disperse, some of the people now going off in small groups. Not far away, a man had another man on his knees. Elle watched, mesmerized, as the standing man grabbed tight onto his partner’s head and fucked him as if he were an inanimate object.

“In the car.”

Elle slipped into the car, and she wondered again who it belonged to. Now that she’d had an orgasm, she was able to think straight again. Her panties sat in a crumpled heap between her seat and the door. She picked them up, rolled down the window and tossed them to the handsome stranger who had just fucked her.

He caught them with a little smile and raised them in a gesture of thanks.

“Why did you do that?” Cunningham pulled away from the curb.

“They were on the floor and dirty and I didn’t want to chance them getting put in my mouth again.”

Cunningham made a strangled noise between a laugh and a growl, as if he thought her response was funny but didn’t want to encourage her. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, but he drove quickly, weaving through traffic effortlessly. “Are you ok?”

“Sure.”

“Elle… I’m not asking this as your Dom. I’m asking as your boyfriend who cares about you very much. Were you upset by what just happened?”

“No… It’s nothing.”

“It’s something. Elle, I don’t care what we’re doing or who’s watching. If you ever feel that the situation is an unhealthy one, you need to speak up. We’ve been over this!”

“I
loved
what just happened. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? Elle, I’m not a goddamn mind reader. If you won’t tell me what’s bothering you, then I’ll get Jonathan to come over, and you can tell him.”
 

“Why are you driving some woman’s car?”

He looked at her sharply. “Excuse me?”

“Are you sleeping with other women?”

The muscles in Cunningham’s jaw flexed. He didn’t answer, though, and a moment later he slowly pulled into a parking lot. They weren’t far from where he lived now; Elle recognized some of the taller buildings.

He turned the car off. “Get out.”

Elle grabbed for the handle and opened the door. They’d left the nightclubs behind, and this area didn’t have a lot of traffic… it could be a while before she could flag down a taxi.

“Now!”

She got out and wrapped her arms around herself. Cunningham came around angrily and stopped inches from her. His chest heaved.

“Drive,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I can’t drive stick.”

“There’s no clutch. Shifting is optional. Get your ass in the car and drive.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s your car, dammit,” he roared, and Elle ran to obey. Shaking, she lowered herself behind the wheel. Her mind was spinning. Her car?
Her
car?

Cunningham got in and slammed the door. “Go straight along that road and make a right in three blocks.”

“Cunningham—”

“You don’t trust me. I get it.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Drive.”

Shaking, Elle started up the car. It was truly a thing of beauty, not to mention the most generous gift she’d ever received. And she couldn’t even get excited because he was furious with her… angrier than she’d ever seen.

There was no way this was going to end well.

She pulled jerkily into the street, adjusting to the car’s amazing power.
 

“I—”
 

“We’ll talk about this later. Just drive.”

By the time she finally pulled up in front of his apartment, she was convinced he was going to end things with her. It was like the earlier hazing had been a horrible foreshadowing of the future.

She needed to deal with this head on. “Cunningham, can we talk?”

“Hand your keys to the valet.”

That meant he wasn’t going to just send her home. There was a chance she could redeem herself. Heaving a sigh of relief, Elle turned the keys over and hurried to where Cunningham waited just inside the lobby. When the elevator arrived, he stepped inside, and Elle followed.

He wouldn’t look at her. Elle frantically tried to think of what she would say. But he was right. She’d shown an astonishing lack of faith, based on nothing.

The second they were out of the elevator, Elle began to apologize. Cunningham ordered her to wait for him in the den.

The place was so huge that Elle wasn’t sure which room was technically the den—she only knew where the main bedroom was—but she eventually settled on the largest of the possibilities. She looked at the artwork, the beautiful piano, the rich fabrics that could have hung in a museum.

Cunningham was frigging loaded. She knew that. And Nolan had even more money. It was staggering.

She sank into one of the plush, mauve couches. Fresh-cut flowers adorned the center of the table next to the couch, and Elle fingered the petals of a bright purple blossom that was completely foreign to her. She wondered if he had them shipped in from an exotic locale.

She looked at everything, trying to distract herself from the confrontation she knew was coming.

A noise caught her attention. Cunningham stood at the edge of the room. He stared at her a moment, his deep brown eyes sad. Elle could deal with anything… his anger, his frustration, his lust… but not his sadness.

“I’m so sorry. Truly, I am.”

“Have you had time to think about how insulting your words were?” He didn’t move to approach any closer, just stayed at the entrance, looking wary.

“Yes. I…”

“You don’t trust me. Elle, if I came over to your apartment and found a pair of men’s boxers in the living room, thinking that you were cheating would be the absolute last possibility on my list of explanations. Because I trust you. I’ve looked into your soul, seen you stripped bare, seen all your insecurities and fears. I
know you.
Do you even understand what that means?”

Elle nodded slowly.
 

Cunningham shook his head. “You’re so young and so very inexperienced.” He suddenly looked exhausted. “I forget that sometimes.” He sat in the matching chair diagonal from Elle. “Do you have any idea how frustrating it’s been for me? You beg for a relationship, but you expect us to make all the concessions. I wanted to meet your mother, but you don’t want me to. Even knowing that our relationship would be presented to her as professional, you insist on keeping us out. And now I learn that you don’t even trust me. Why, Elle?”

Tears blurred Elle’s vision. “I do trust you. I was just afraid.”

He shook his head. “And this inexplicable behavior with your mother?”

“Because I know you’ll hate her.”

“I can promise you that I won’t.”
 

“And she’ll hate you.”

Cunningham looked stunned. “Why?”

“Because she’s bitter and she hates everyone. And I’m terrified that one day I’ll end up like her, and that you’ll see that and get rid of me now, before it’s too late.” Elle buried her face in her hands and sobbed. She was too far gone to even be embarrassed about it.

Cunningham put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Elle, I’m so sorry.”
 

She sobbed even harder, and Cunningham began to rock her slowly. She felt so safe with him—she always had. Cunningham was powerful, and he could use it to shield her, she knew.
 

“Today, at the office, was a mistake. You are too fragile. I should have known.”

Elle shook her head. “It wasn’t,” she said as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m not weak.”

“No. You’re not weak. But you’ve been hurt, and after everything, you still think we’re capable of walking away from you. I’m not going anywhere because I’m a selfish bastard, and I know I won’t find better. You are everything I have ever wanted. Why can’t you see that?” He pulled back and stared into her eyes. “Move in with me.”

“What?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, though I didn’t think it would go quite this way. Elle, I hate how far away you live. We’d been discussing who should be the one to have you, and we decided that the decision is yours, of course.”

“What?” Elle repeated, not believing her ears.
 

“Tonight I wanted to bring you here, explain some logistical things, ask you how you imagine your life in ten years, twenty years, and broach the topic.”

“Why me?” Elle struggled away from him. “You could have anyone.”

Cunningham sighed. “You are a catch, Elle. I have no doubt that any heterosexual man who meets you will find his mind going in that direction. But that’s not enough to hold my interest. Do you have any idea how few people there are in the world whose idea of a good time matches mine?”

“A lot, I’d guess.”

“You’d be wrong. Women might fantasize sometimes about having multiple partners, but very few are interested in it as an actual lifestyle choice, along with all the sacrifices that entails. Then you add in the BDSM games, and the pool dwindles even more. I never imagined I’d find someone who I clicked with on every level.”

“But women
love
you.”

“Women love my money and all the comforts that come with it. When I was a teenager, I was lonely. I’d date the most beautiful women in the school, but it was never enough. When I first started dominating women, that wasn’t enough, either. Yes, I’m a bit of a sadist, and heaven knows I enjoy watching you with other men. Maybe I’m twisted, or maybe I’m more honest with myself than most people.”

Elle studied Cunningham. “You never explained it like that before.”

Cunningham stood, then sat, then stood again. “Stupidly, I never thought I needed to, especially after you forced me to confront myself when we were in Aspen.” He laughed bitterly. “I figured that since you recognized that I was falling for you—and yes, in retrospect I realize my feelings were obvious—then you understood why I kept my true desires so tightly hidden away. Any lingering doubts should have been dispelled after meeting Bianca.”

Elle remembered her afternoon with the gorgeous, tall blonde who had previously dated the three men. They hadn’t fallen in love with her, though, or at least Cunningham hadn’t. When the sex stopped being enough for Bianca, she moved to England, brokenhearted—though not before extracting an unfairly large sum of money from them.

Cunningham shook his head and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “There’s so much I want for us, but the more I try to show how cherished you are, the more insecure you get. Why is that? Help me understand.”

Elle didn’t fancy saying it aloud, but Cunningham had just laid himself bare, and he deserved the truth. She took a deep breath. “At the beginning, I didn’t have anything to lose except my pride.”

Cunningham watched her closely. “And now?”

“Now… I’ve got nothing left at all. I feel like you could just snap your fingers and it would all go away. I’m not good enough. I don’t know about all these nice things that you’re so used to, you don’t even see it…” The words didn’t make sense, but they kept spilling out of her. “I’m trying so hard but I just want you to want me, to want… me… you know, the way I am. But even if you did, I’d never believe in it.” She stopped to take a breath, and Cunningham sat, pulling her into his lap.

“Oh, Elle. That’s simply not true. I want to spoil you, not change you, and I’m here for the long haul. All of us are. Do you understand that? It’s ok if you don’t. You will. I’ll keep proving it to you, again and again, until you understand.”

Unable to breathe, crushed by his love, all she could do was nod.

Cunningham cooked dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a tangy stir fry with lots of ginger. Still, it was delicious. Cunningham opened a bottle of red wine, and when Elle didn’t love it, he promptly opened one that she did enjoy.

A warm feeling fluttered in her stomach. A month ago, he would have lectured her on the wine’s merits. Still, knowing that he was biting his tongue didn’t make her feel more worthy.
 

Elle pushed back her plate. “I’d love to cook for you some day.” She laughed. “Just wish my place wasn’t so inadequate.”

Cunningham got that expression on his face, the one that meant he’d identified a problem to be solved as soon as possible.

“No, no, no, I don’t want to move again. And my place is nice, actually. But it’s messy. I’m only there to sleep and to change clothes. And no, I don’t want you to send over a maid.”

“I could reduce your hours if you prefer to be more domestic.” He was joking, but Elle gave him her most lethal stare, just in case. He shrugged. “Between now and when you decide who you want to live with, if you need anything, you only have to ask.”

Elle nodded.
 

Cunningham sliced ripe strawberries for dessert, and they went out onto his enormous balcony to eat. Winter was definitely over, but the night was cool. Elle sat close to Cunningham, letting his heat warm her, too.

“How many apartments do you have? This one, the loft…”

“Seventeen. Most of them are in cities that I’d love to live in one day. I bought them, and now rent them out most of the year.”

“Why rent?”

He shrugged. “Why not? They’re beautiful, and they shouldn’t be empty.”

“You’re so lucky.”

Cunningham nodded. “I am. And I work my ass off. Or at least I used to. These days I feel somewhat entitled to enjoy the fruits of my labor, but it’s hard to cut back to forty hours a week.”
 

Elle flicked her tongue over a sugar-topped strawberry, enjoying the slight crunch of the crystals. When she realized that Cunningham was watching closely, she slowly sucked the plump berry into her mouth.

“Keep doing that and see what happens,” he said.