Chapter 6
6
Amy
Saying goodbye to her parents, Amy sagged as she shut the door behind them. She was so freaking tired. She knew they’d been staying because they wanted to make sure she was okay, but trying to pretend she was okay so they’d feel confident about leaving had been exhausting. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t okay exactly.
She was… numb. Mostly.
All she wanted to do was go curl up in bed and watch something. Or doom scroll. Start figuring out where she was going to live after this. She shouldn’t take up their guest bedroom for more than a month. Two at most. Though she wasn’t sure she could take looking for another place at this exact moment when she’d just finished moving everything.
She could plan something really nice to do for Kincaid and Zach as a thank you for all they’d done for her today and for letting her move in with them. Actually, that sounded like the best idea.
Doing something nice for someone else was sure to make her feel better. And it might relieve some of the guilt she felt about how little she’d done today while everyone was doing everything for her. She should probably make cookies or something for her friends. Write thank-you notes.
Her brain was still churning when she turned around to see both Kincaid and Zach standing there, looking at her.
For one beautiful, brilliant moment, her brain froze in appreciation of their pure male beauty. They looked so good, and they were both looking at her.
Then, her brain kicked in.
They’re looking at me. Both of them.
They were waiting for me.
Why?
“Um, so thank you for everything today,” she blurted out. Maybe they were waiting for her to express gratitude? She hadn’t gotten a chance to yet today. Or maybe they wanted to reassure themselves she was okay before they went to bed, too. Just thinking about that made her feel even more tired, but they, more than anyone, deserved that reassurance. She just had to get the energy for it, then she could collapse in bed.
Alone.
Don’t think about that. You’ll be fine.
She hated sleeping alone but there was no way she was going to ask to join them again. They’d already let her do that one night. She was not invading their room again.
“Of course.” Zach didn’t smile as he answered, though. “Can we talk to you for a minute?” He gestured with his hand toward the living room where she’d been with her parents.
Oh, they probably wanted to talk about house rules or something. That made sense. Amy felt the sag of relief again. Rules she could do. All she had to do was nod and agree with everything they said, which she knew she would, even if they were unreasonable. But she trusted Zach not to be unreasonable, and if he was with Kincaid, then she trusted Kincaid. Plus, she knew enough about Kincaid from things Zach had said and from club gossip to know he was a really good guy.
So, whatever they wanted, she’d agree to, and not just because she didn’t have a whole lot of other choices. They’d take care of her. She trusted that. Hell, she’d been experiencing it.
“Sure.” She summoned her brightest smile and headed back into the living room, returning to the couch where she’d been sitting with her parents. To her surprise, rather than going to the couch across from her, on the other side of the coffee table, Zach and Kincaid came and sat down on either side of her, putting her in the middle. “Oh… um…”
She wasn’t sure which one she was supposed to be looking at. Or why she was in the middle of them. Her brain was doing that fritzing thing again, as it had when she’d turned around and seen them standing there, waiting for her. She was trying desperately to reboot it, but she was so tired…
Zach took her hand, so she turned to look at him. He looked concerned. God, she was so tired of everyone looking at her with concern, even though she understood why, but that expression was just another reminder of how horrifically she’d failed at life. People weren’t concerned about someone who was succeeding; they were only worried when you were falling apart.
“I…” he started to say, then stopped. Hesitated. Looked over her head at Kincaid. Her head turned with the change in his focus.
Kincaid met her gaze with compassionate eyes, which was almost worse than Zach’s concern. With Zach, she could tell herself that he knew her well enough to be concerned. They had a long-time connection. He was a caring guy, of course—like all her friends and family. He was going to worry about her.
Her only connection to Kincaid was through Zach, and they’d been kept pretty separate in his life. So, while he wasn’t a total stranger, it wasn’t like they had a relationship that made him invested in her wellbeing. Her stomach turned over in embarrassment that he had to spend his time worrying about her because of the terrible choices she’d made.
“Zach and I want to know how you’re holding up,” Kincaid said gently.
He wasn’t the first to ask, obviously, but it was the first time Amy hesitated before answering. It was the first time she tripped over the ‘I’m not great, but I’ll get there’ lie that had been her standard for the whole day.
She was so far beyond ‘not great,’ and something about Kincaid’s penetrating gaze made her feel like he would immediately know that she was lying and that he would be disappointed in her.
She shrugged instead of actually answering, dropping her gaze to her lap where Zach was holding her hand.
The silence between the two men was deafening, and she got the feeling there was a nonverbal conversation happening over her head. Would they be insulted if she just said she was tired and retreated to her room?
She was about to make the attempt, in the nicest way possible, when Zach spoke again, about a second before she would have opened her mouth.
“Do you want a scene tonight?”
Amy froze. That was the very last thing she’d expected him to say.
Okay, well, no, not quite. The last thing would have been an invitation to get naked and get in bed with him, but asking if she wanted a scene was ranked nearly as high on the list.
A scene.
He was asking if she wanted a scene.
The kind of scene they’d always done at the club.
But they weren’t at the club.
Her mouth opened, but she didn’t actually know what she wanted to say, so nothing came out.
“I…” That was all she had.
Flight, fight, or freeze, and she froze. Again. Like she always did. Her brain felt like it was buzzing with energy, but no comprehensible thoughts were actually emerging.
“Amy.” Kincaid’s deep voice cut through the buzzing, calling her back to the moment.
She turned her head again, looking into his dark eyes. They were so serious, so caring, as though he really saw her, which was utterly terrifying in its own way.
“May I touch you? Not sexually, but I would like to touch you.”
Numbly, Amy nodded. She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she didn’t mind being touched. Touch was comfort.
And God, did she need to be comforted today.
Kincaid’s arm lifted, then she felt his hand curve around the back of her neck, almost as if he was going to draw her toward him to kiss, but instead, his fingers slid up and pressed into the soft points just under her skull. It felt really, really good. Not in a sexual way. In a massage way.
She sighed out a long breath of air, letting her head drop, her eyes closing as he pressed his fingers in, kneading softly and releasing the tension from the little muscles there. Her shoulders slumped. Zach squeezed her fingers.
“Zach thinks you need a scene,” Kincaid said gently but firmly as he continued to rub her neck. “I don’t know you as well as he does, but I agree with him. We want to make you feel better.”
God, she wanted to feel better. The awful block of emotion sitting in the pit of her chest, which she’d been successfully ignoring all day, pulsed, as if it realized it was being threatened. It would feel good to let it all go, wouldn’t it?
This was what Jeremy hadn’t understood. That it wasn’t about sex. It was about release. It was about getting all the things she held inside of her out of her. And right now, she had more emotions clawing at her insides than normal, trying to trip their way through her skin, through her tears, and out into the world, yet she felt like she couldn’t let them.
It wasn’t like crying was productive. It never helped a situation. But she knew she held the tears in for too long, and it got to a point where the lack of crying did start to harm her. All those ugly emotions would come out in bursts of anger or meanness if she held them back for too long, and that wasn’t the kind of person she wanted to be.
Which was why she needed to get them out.
She nodded her head.
“I want to feel better.” She also wanted to sound less pathetic, but that apparently wasn’t an option right now.
“Good girl.”
All the air rushed out of her lungs as tears filled her eyes unbidden. She was so on edge, she was about to start weeping at being called a good girl. Something settled inside her stomach at the acknowledgment that even though Jeremy had dumped her in a spectacularly humiliating manner, even though a bunch of people probably thought she was a cheater and a scum human being now, even though she’d had to upend her entire life and move it out of the house she thought she’d be living her married life in… she was still a good girl.
“Come here, Amy.” Zach tugged on her hand gently, letting her be the one to control her movements but indicating he wanted her to move. “I want you over my lap.”
This was easier than having to say, ‘Yes, I want a scene.’ Because agreeing to a scene, knowing how Jeremy felt about them now, made her feel guilty all over again. But this wasn’t agreeing, it was just doing. It was following direction.
It was being a good girl.
Reluctantly pulling away from Kincaid’s hand on her neck, she felt his fingers trail down to the center of her shoulder blades and give her gentle guidance forward and over Zach’s lap. Resting her face against the leather couch, she took in a deep breath, inhaling the rich scent, which reminded her of the club and helped her relax even more.
Zach’s hand came down on her lower back, rubbing in a similar manner to the way Kincaid had rubbed her neck.
“What’s your safe word, Amy?”
He knew her safe word, but he asked her every time, anyway, as a good Dom would.
She felt his hesitation, the brief pause in his hand when he realized.
Her safe word was ‘Jeremy.’
Obviously not a great safe word anymore.
“Red.” She’d go with the stoplight system until she could think of something unique. If she wanted to pick something unique again.
“Good. I’m going to lower your pants, though we’ll keep your underwear on.” He wasn’t asking; he was telling. She had her safe word if she wanted to stop him.
Amy relaxed against his lap, closing her eyes as he briskly pulled down the yoga pants she was wearing. She knew Kincaid was probably staring right at her butt in her ugly granny panties, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t trying to be attractive for him or for Zach. This wasn’t about that.
She wondered if Jeremy had ever truly understood that. Or if he would look at her like this and see her pants being pulled down and assume it could only be sexual rather than the simple fact that a spanking over pants just wasn’t as effective. Without knowing what pictures Noelle had taken of her and shared with Jeremy, Amy couldn’t be sure, but she was willing to bet that was how he’d taken it.
Even though she often didn’t come home horny from a session with Zach, and the few times she had, he’d been the one to benefit. Or maybe the lack of coming home horny had been what made him think she was cheating.
She didn’t get the chance to think much deeper about what was going on because Zach’s hand came down on her ass.
Hard.
Hard enough to take her breath away and make her cry out.
Normally, he gave her a bit of a warmup before getting into everything heavy.
But normally, they didn’t do an over-a-lap spanking with just his hand. Normally, he had some kind of implement and something planned out he wanted to do. Normally, she would be bound to some piece of equipment, not pressed up against his body.
Right now, nothing was normal, so it made sense this wasn’t either. And she was grateful this part wasn’t normal.
Being held on his lap, his body against hers was comforting. He was holding her, even as he was spanking her, his hand coming down again and again, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps every time his palm connected. Yet the tears weren’t spilling over yet.
It didn’t hurt enough yet.
More.
She wanted—needed—more until the external pain matched the agony that was clutched tight in the little ball of emotion in the center of her chest.
Her hips moved, lifting her ass up as she clutched the couch cushion she had her face pressed against.
Someone wrapped their hand around her hair.
No, not someone. Kincaid. It was him because Zach was the one holding down the middle of her back while his other hand went to town on her ass. The burn was growing, even though it didn’t match the rock of emotion in her chest. She needed it harder. Though the tingling sensation as Kincaid tugged on her hair helped.
She sensed more than saw him kneel down beside her.
“You’re a good girl, Amy.” His voice was low. Firm. Not gentle, but soft and utterly controlled, and his words completely undid her in a way that she would have never expected. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You deserved so much more than what Jeremy did to you.”
They were all the right words, and they made her choke as the sobs she’d thought were still tightly locked away were suddenly in her throat. Zach’s hand came down again, right on her sit spot, and a small cry leaked out.
It was too soon. Normally, she needed a lot more pain before she could cry, but the combination of Zach’s palm and Kincaid’s voice was ripping her defenses apart like a seam ripper through thread.
“Jeremy should have never treated you like that.”
Zach’s hand came down on her other sit spot.
“You deserve someone who loves you.”
Another burning slap against her heated skin.
“You deserve someone who treats you like a queen.”
And another.
“You’re a good girl.”
Amy’s raw cry as the sobs erupted from her was akin to a wounded animal.