Raylene said “Yes, sir,” again, and I gave the dark woman a gallic-style, what-can-you-do shrug.
Dorabella watched Raylene disappear. I guess she still found the colour of her ass hard to believe. A few seconds passed, Raylene-less. Dorabella had the floor. Eventually she put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Come on, Lynette, we should go get a coffee or something. Jaime, we’ll give you, what? An hour? Two hours? Then we’ll come back and make dinner.”
I looked at Raylene’s door, and imagined Raylene, presented on the bed, obediently waiting for her last strokes, and hoping for rough, comforting fucking to follow. “Closer to two hours would be better.”
“We can do that. Well, enjoy. Both of you. And, Jaime, if you hurt Raylene.” She stopped and pulled a face. Of course I was going to hurt Raylene. “You know what I mean. Really hurt her, I’ll fucking come for you.”
“I’m not going to harm her. That’s what you mean. Hurt her, yes. But I know what you mean, and it’s noted.”
She smiled. Dorabella was hopeless at being grim. “Okay. Well, watch out for her. We’ll see you later.”
She led her friend to the front door. I heard them talking, Lynette angry and upset, Dorabella calming. The door closed after them.
There were things Raylene had done, or not done, in the last few minutes that I didn’t fully understand.
So I slapped the balustrade with the razor strop, hard and loud, so she’d remember it was still in play, and went up to her room.