Chapter 108: Krispin
PART FOUR
Check-in went off without a hitch. It felt good to know I wasn't blackballed for life. I hadn't spoken to Damian, the exclusive El Diablo Hotel's owner, for more than a year. He sent a short note during my stay at Foundations, a posh rehab for rich celebrities. That note gave me enough courage to walk past the imposing doorman and request a suite.
The well-trained petite blonde behind the check-in counter didn't lift an eyebrow when I handed her my identification. My visit was a spur of the moment "I-need-to-unwind-and-write-a-new-song" decision. My cock was also in need of finely-tuned pussy, and I was hopeful my warm welcome at the hotel would carry over to the private BDSM club upstairs.
Once the valet safely tucked me and my extensive gear safely in the room, I thanked him with a large tip. I paced restlessly around the two bedrooms, a small kitchen, dining room, and comfortable living area along with two full bathrooms. The one off the master bedroom came complete with a sunken tub and a separate shower. In the early days of my career, I'd stayed in bedbug-infested motels while eating sandwiches out of a cooler. Now, with more money than I knew what to do with, I could appreciate how far I'd come. And I'm not talking just about how far I'd come since those cheap motels ten years ago, but how far I'd come in the last two years since ending my private drug-induced hell.
I continued pacing the living area waiting for my fate. It was a relief when I heard the firm knock at the door. I pulled back the heavy, ornate wooden door and let it swing open.
Damian's intense brown eyes drilled into mine. I knew he was searching for signs of addiction. I let him look, knowing there were none to be found. His breath slowly expelled and the corners of his mouth lifted. He had the devil's smile to match his name.
"It's good to see you," he said, in that strong resonant voice I'd missed so much.
"Then I'm hoping you'll let me stay."
Without answering, his smile broadened. I couldn't hold back my relief and finally allowed my stiff shoulders to relax. Strong arms came around me and, for just a moment, I held back tears. Through all the years I'd known Damian, his willingness to throw the he-man persona out the window was one of his best characteristics. Even doms sometimes need a shoulder and I absorbed his strength.
Damian slowly pulled back with a last hardy slap on my back. "Yes, you can stay but let's talk."
I knew this was coming and I didn't mind. One of the things I'd learned the hard way was the relief I felt when apologizing for my past misdeeds. It was the best medicine I could give myself.
"Would you like a drink? I'm grabbing myself some water," I said as I walked to the fully-stocked bar.
Damian missed nothing. "I'll take the same."
"It doesn't bother me if you have a beer."
He shrugged. "No, water is fine." Damian settled into a chair, and I sat on the couch, kiddy-corner from him. "You look good." His crooked smile was back.
"I feel good." It's the truth and so nice to say after all I've been through.
"I followed the gossip column on your last tour."
I laughed loudly. "For some reason, it's hard to picture you reading the rag mags."
Another shrug. "My wife keeps a few around so it's much easier than having to buy one for myself or, God forbid, send an employee to get me one."
"I heard you married. I'm happy for you." Surprised but happy.
"I'm happy for me but it's you I want to know about." His eyes are direct. "I haven't heard from you in almost two years."
There was no censure in his voice but I needed to explain. "The first year was me getting my shit together," I said. "And this past year has been reestablishing myself, getting my band's shit together, and touring. It took me this long to get up the nerve to come see you."
Damian shakes his head. "It shouldn't have. That's why I sent you the letter in rehab."
"I owe you an apology." My eyes zeroed into his steady, blameless gaze.
Damian's head shook back and forth again. "No, you don't."
"Yes, I do, and I need you to hear me out. This is long overdue, Damian."
He let out a breath without saying anything, just waited for me to speak. "I have no one to blame but myself. I had a good childhood with decent parents who did everything right." I took my own deep breath to slow down all the thoughts running through my head. "The drugs and alcohol were my fault, no one else's. The lousy people I surrounded myself with were my fault. I'm not a weakling or some broken asshole whining about how I got shafted by the world, because I didn't. I partied not to run from anything or forget any pain, but because I could. I thought I was strong and could control the drugs. But no one is that strong and before I knew what happened, the drugs had complete and utter control of my life. I'm sorry for putting you in the position of throwing me out of the club. I'm sorry for what I did to the sub you stopped me from seriously hurting. I expected her to press charges. At the very least, she could have filed a lawsuit. Of all the things I've done, that is the one I can't atone for, but I'm sorry."
Damian didn't speak for a few moments. I knew he was letting my words sink in. His control was one of the things that attracted submissives and even dominants to his flame. "Seeing you fall further and further was hard," he said. "I don't want to do it again. Do you need me to have housekeeping remove the alcohol from your room?"
"Only if it makes you feel better. I don't touch it at all. I've replaced two members of my band because they couldn't take the new rules. The first year was the hardest and I'll always be an addict. But now, I control it and not the other way around."
"That's good to hear," he said somberly, and then he smiled. "My wife owns your latest album and she dances to it with Abigail, our daughter. Hopefully when you meet Lydia she won't drool as much as the baby."
I couldn't help but grin. "I'm sure if she does you'll jerk her chain and make her behave."
Damian's laugh was loud and full. "Dinner tonight at my place, and then the club, if it's something you want to do."
"Yes, it is. Thank you, Damian. I'm glad I came. I'm working on some new material and I need a sexual outlet when I'm in creativity mode. Do you think subs will be willing to play with me?"
"You'll have your pick. Dixie never spoke about what happened. She moved to New York to dance classical ballet. She's quite good. Lydia and I saw her perform six months ago."
"I never knew she danced." I felt another stab of guilt. Dixie had trusted me with her body, and I'd come close to damaging her in ways that might have stolen her life's dream. I was overwhelmed again by gratitude to Damian for saving us both. If I had hurt her, I don't think I could have ever forgiven myself. I wasn't sure I'd forgiven myself now as it was.
"I want you to take things slow in the club. I'll be there if you need help. You had the makings of a good dom. I know you can still be one, if that's what you want. But this time you will know what your subs do outside the club. The connection is important and it's not all about the great sex," he added with a wink.
"I'm willing to learn again."
"Good, I'll see you tonight." Damian stood and turned to the door. "I see you brought your guitars."
"I don't travel without them."
"Would you mind bringing one to dinner? We won't make you sing for your supper, but Lydia will be turned on if you play and I'll reap the benefits."
How could I not laugh or agree to bring my guitar. "I'm working on a ballad that might do the job."
Damian's laughed again carried through the room. "Nothing personal but Lydia would prefer something hard, foul-mouthed, and sexy."
"Then I'll save the ballad for Abigail." Damian's wife was piquing my curiosity.
"That'll work." Damian closed the door behind him and I leaned back against the cool wood. I took a deep breath and then slowly let it out then reached for my favorite guitar case and took out the 1970 Gibson Citation. She was a sweet thing, and I needed to feel her vibrate. I thrummed a few cords and her rhythmic pulse went straight to my cock. This evening couldn't come soon enough.
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