Chapter 11 Kensie
KENSIE
Panic courses through me, sharp and hot. I need to get covered, I need to get space. I need out.
“It’s okay,” Grant says and I can tell he’s trying to keep his voice calm even though fear and concern lace the words. “I’m going to get you out of this, okay? Try to be still for me.”
“Where are they?” I’m definitely not making it easy on him, frantically tugging at my hands and twisting on the table. The urge to cover myself is overwhelming, making it impossible to think, impossible to calm down and be still as Grant requested. “Can you get me a blanket?”
Suddenly his face appears right in front of mine, covering my field of vision. I stare into the familiar brown eyes, trying to focus. “No one else is here,” he tells me. “I made them both leave immediately. It’s just us. Just me and you.”
I finally manage to pull in a full breath at those words. Just me and you. No one else here.
“Good,” he says, watching my face. Something soft falls over my chest and I realize he took his shirt off to cover me. “Keep breathing just like that. Good girl. I’m going to get these knots undone, okay?” I manage to nod, but there’s nothing I can do about the tears streaming down my face.
Embarrassment burns in my chest, choking and overwhelming.
I can’t believe I reacted like that. I just completely lost it in front of Grant and his friends.
God, he’s probably so humiliated. He told me he’s done this numerous times before, with many subs.
Better subs. Subs who wouldn’t freak out at something as simple as a menage.
A menage that I asked for! God, what is wrong with me?
“I’m so sorry,” I mutter, shutting my eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Grant suddenly says, his face hovering over mine again. “Stop it, Kensie. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“My arms,” I whimper, tugging. To my surprise they come easily.
“Your hands are free. Sit up with me.”
He pulls me into a sitting position and then I’m in his arms. I sink into his chest, relishing the familiar spiced scent of him. Nothing like the foreign presence of the other men. A shudder runs through me at the thought.
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Grant growls, carrying me to the chair in the corner. “I pushed you too far.”
“You didn’t,” I say quickly as he sits, adjusting me in his lap. “I asked for that. I was having fun. I…I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, hands rubbing soothing circles over my back. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
I don’t know how long we sit like that, me in his arms desperately trying to get my shit together. When my tears have finally stopped, I pull back and look up into his eyes. “I really am so sorry. I’m mortified.”
“Baby, no,” he says, hands coming up to cradle my face, to smooth my hair. “You don’t ever have to apologize for using your safe word. Not ever. Tell me you know that.”
I nod, even though I still feel like an idiot. Grant sees right through me, his eyes flashing as he shakes his head. “If you don’t understand that, then I’ve failed as your Dom. You should never, ever have to doubt that your word is safe. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”
“You didn’t.” Now I feel even worse. Grant is an amazing Dom. I don’t need to have any experience to know that.
“We need to trust each other for this to work,” he says. “That means you trust me to stop and I trust you to ask to stop when you need to. Okay?”
I nod, still feeling shaky. Whatever he might say, there’s a part of me that’s convinced he’s going to end this. How could a man like him stay with such a scared, inexperienced fool?
He pulls me back to his chest, running his hands over my body. I’m starting to feel more calm now, more safe, and I take in deep inhales of his scent.
“Can you tell me what happened to make you panic?” he finally asks, voice soft and careful, like he’s trying not to set me off again.
“Is there anything specific that bothered you?” When I don’t answer, he hugs me tighter.
“I just need to know so that I can make sure that never happens again, okay? I need to make sure you’re safe next time. ”
I can’t fight back the shudder. The mere thought that we might do something like this again makes me feel physically sick.
“I didn’t want to,” I finally manage to choke out. “He was bringing his…you know…to my face and I knew I was supposed to…” God, this is even more mortifying than experiencing it.
“You didn’t want to perform oral sex on him,” Grant says calmly.
“Yes. I realized that I didn’t want to do that.” I swallow hard. “It felt…wrong. Them touching me and the way you guys were talking…” I duck my head into his chest.
“You liked that part,” he suggests, and I nod against him.
“But then when it came to actually…”
“Have sex,” he finishes for me.
“Yes. I just…I knew I couldn’t do that with them. I couldn’t do that with anyone but you.”
The weight of those words hits me all at once, bringing the panic rushing right back in. I don’t want to do that with anyone but Grant. Not tonight. Not ever.
And that scares the ever-loving hell out of me.
“Baby?” Grant says, clearly picking up on my rigid body. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this,” I yelp out, pushing away from him.
He must be startled by my sudden reaction because he actually lets me go.
I scramble off his lap and rush to my dress, folded neatly on the dresser.
I don’t bother with underwear or my bra.
Thank fuck this is a slip on, I think, pulling the fabric over my head.
I’m putting my shoes on by the time he gets over his surprise enough to follow me.
“Hey.” He holds his hands up like I’m a threatened animal about to lash out. “Everything is okay.”
“I have to go.”
“That’s fine. We can leave right—”
“No!” I cry. I know I’m acting crazy all over again but I can’t control it any better than I did before. “I need to leave by myself.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t let you do that. I can’t let you leave here by yourself when you’re so upset.”
“I don’t want you!” I practically shriek. It’s not true, of course. I want him more than anything. And that’s why I need to go. Right now.
“Kensie.” His voice is pained, pleading, but I just can’t.
“At least take my driver. Ask Andres or one of the other hosts to notify Victor. Can you do that for me?”
I want to refuse. The part of me that’s desperate to get away from him isn’t too excited about the idea of being in a car with his driver.
But I know there’s no way he’s going to let me leave this building alone when I’m this upset.
And deep down, I know it wouldn’t be safe for me to drive like this.
“Okay,” I agree. “But I don’t want you to follow me.”
The look on his face at those words almost brings me to my knees. Pain. I did that.
Another reason to go.
I turn and flee from the room, unable to take a second more.
It’s hard to believe the front lounge is the same space we’d spent time in earlier in the evening. We’d sat in one of those booths, sharing a drink with the two men who agreed to help me with my stupid idea. Little did I know then how monumentally I would fuck it all up.
But my embarrassment over what happened in that room is overshadowed by what came next. The soul shaking realization that my arrangement with Grant has turned into something I never planned, something I definitely didn’t want.
When in the hell had I come to care about him so much? How could I, after everything I had been through, find myself thinking I could see forever with this man? I’d tried forever once before and I barely survived.
I never should have agreed to try more outside of our arrangement. All those dinners, nights in his house or mine, time spent cozied up in the public section of the club. What was I thinking?
I’m so lost in these thoughts as I scurry through the lounge, so desperate for my escape, that I very nearly go barreling into someone. “I’m so sorry,” I gasp out, not looking up to see the man’s expression. He’s probably looking at me like I’m crazy—I can’t really argue that at the moment.
So it comes as a shock when his hand comes out to grasp my wrist. The hold isn’t polite or gentle. It hurts. My head snaps up and the face I see makes my stomach drop.
“Fred?”
He stares down at me, face twisted in a snarl I know well. “So this is what you’ve been doing with yourself?” he spits out. “Whoring around in a club like this? I can’t believe you, Makensie. I knew you were a fucking slut but I had no idea you were this disgusting.”
My knees feel weak, my entire body frozen, as I stare up into the furious face of my ex-husband.