by Leigh Lennon
“You’re right, but I don’t know how else to do this.” I wish I could explain to her how out of character this is for me with what I’ve willingly conceded only for her. My struggle is as hard as hers. But telling her will only freak her out more. I’ve never worn my heart on my sleeve as I do with Eve.
She stands, walking over to me, and sits on my knee. “I know, and I’m sorry.” She places a kiss on my forehead, and if I hadn’t known beforehand, I do now, without question. I’m in love with Evelyn Lipton.
She goes willingly to the St. Andrew’s cross. She’s naked, and as I bind her hands, her body stiffens. “Kitten, relax, just relax. Deep down inside, I know you want this.” As these words linger in her mind, she loosens from her rigid posture and into my touch. I want to whisper in her ear that I love her, that all I want to do is protect her, and I’ll never hurt her, but the words don’t come. This isn’t the time to share it with her. I know she needs to be loved. It’s evident when her longing looks fall on mine, and shit, do I want to love this girl. And never do I want her to think I’m saying these words simply to fill a void.
I step back and simply watch her. “For now, if you don’t want something, you say red, and it’s over. If I’m pushing you too much, but you don’t want to end the scene, use yellow, and I’ll slow down, and we can talk.”
I pick up the flogger. Normally with a new submissive, I blindfold them, but this is only with trained subs. “This is soft, and it’s used in many ways, but I will start slowly with you.” I start at her thighs with small soft strokes. When her eyes roll back in her head, I take this as a sign of pleasure. Each stroke is methodical, awakening her senses and pulling moans from her luscious lips. Moving up her torso and to her arms, I work it down her body again.
I think I should ask if she’s okay, but it’s not how I work. And because the man inside me used to routine and control has given so much up for Eve at this point, I stick to my habits. Picking up the feather, I tickle it down her body and back up the insides of her legs. Using it around her nipples, I begin to arouse her, and with each little whimper or shiver in her body, she is happily in a trance.
Normally, I would use the rattan cane next, but I save this for a specific part of this scene. I pull her from her binds, scooping her up in my arms, and position her on the punishing bench. I’ve wanted to redden her sweet ass for three weeks. Honestly, I can’t think of anything that will challenge her more or bring me joy. Bringing the rattan cane back, I land one carefully on the globes of her rear, and immediately, her body tenses. I give her thirty seconds to say her safe word, and when she doesn’t, I spank her again. Her body becomes rigid again. Giving her another thirty seconds, I repeat this action.
After five spankings, my palms touch her ass with the attempt to soothe her pain, but her back arches and the muscles in her rear become tight. I’d known with the last lash we were done for the night with this demonstration. She deserves to be loved and cared for. Afterward, I’ll share my visions for our future together. I only want her. No one will ever take her place in my heart.
Carrying her from the bench to the bed, I set her up against the headboard. Pulling a water from the mini fridge next to me and a piece of chocolate from my nightstand, I give it to her. “Here, Kitten, I need you to have a little sip.” Taking a quick drink, it doesn’t go unnoticed that she has yet to look me in the eyes. Pulling the wrapper off the Kit Kat, I place it at her lips, and she opens. I pull back the sheets, bringing her body against mine and peppering kisses down her back. This time, she’s rigid in my touch, and I wait for her to relax. This never comes.
I move her down the bed, turning her over to her belly. Straddling her, I begin to work the muscles of her back in a light massage, but her entire body continues to stay rigid underneath me.
“Kitten, I can’t leave you alone, not yet. After care is just as important as the scene itself.” She’s shutting down on me. This hasn’t gone the way I’d wanted it to, and I know the turning point had been the last strike to her ass.
I warn her, a stern tone delivering the curt words. “You didn’t say your safe word, Kitten. If you don’t, I know I can continue. I need to trust you will speak up if…”
Nothing leaves her mouth, and I move to the side, pulling her back into me. “Kitten, I need you to use your words.” And when nothing comes, I surround her little body in my embrace. When her breathing levels out after twenty minutes, I leave her in the bed and change into my clothes. When she wakes, I’ll be here for her. Maybe then we can discuss what’s going through her mind.
My brain can’t be calmed. I receive a message from Gio that one of our VIPs has arrived, so I lean over, kiss her on the cheek, and leave a note before shutting the door behind me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Eve
When the door latches, I know he’s gone. His presence is too big not to be sensed. I had faked sleep. All he needed was my breathing to change, and when it had, he relaxed his legs next to mine, his fingers circling my back. All I want is time to myself, a self-reflection of sorts so I can think.
What I just experienced was the pee-wee league of BDSM. It had been kid’s play, and more is coming. I know this, but as I think about all the equipment I’d seen around the club, my body begins to shake and not in the way that got me all hot and bothered as seeing it with others had.
This is his life. He will take any independence I have left and strip it from me just as my dad had. I may have very little, but I have me. For the past three weeks, I’ve been fooling myself. This is not the life I can immerse myself in, and if I stay to the end of my contract, I won’t have the heart to say good-bye. The money be damned. I won’t change to be with Chadwick. I can’t. My father made sure I could never fully trust another man.
Pushing up to my feet, I cross the room, grabbing my clothes. I turn the lamp on at the side of the bed with trembling fingers, and I can barely button the side of my dress. I can’t see him, or I won’t have the courage to walk away. And this may be the coward’s way out, but if I look upon his perfect white teeth, his sharp cheekbones, his dark jet black eyes, or his thick black hair he rakes his fingers through every time he’s unsure of something again, I won’t be able to walk away.
I never want him to be anything he isn’t for me, and I can’t be who he needs me to be, just because I’ve fallen in love with him. Yeah, I love the bossy, commanding, handsome egomaniac. But when you love somebody, you let them go because it’s so deep, so consuming, and it’s what is best for this person. He can’t have full control over me, and for this reason, I have to let him go.
A notepad is on a small round table near the door. A piece of paper sits there, folded in half with my name on it. I ignore it. One look at his note, and my name only he calls me—Kitten—would have me crawling back in bed to await his return. I pick up a pen and begin my good-bye.
Chadwick,
I can’t ask you to be someone you’re not—as I can’t be something I’m not. Tonight I could handle because it was very tame. But soon, you’ll want more than I can give, and because my dad took so much from me, no one can have my full submission. Even for a man I love. And because I love you, I have to let you go. And I ask for you to do the same for me.
Love,
Eve
Leaving my phone he’d given me on the table, I pull the door behind me, then turn to the left and toward the exit we entered just a couple of hours ago. It’s a coward’s way out, as I’ve said before, but it’s the only way to let go.
Somewhere deep inside me, I must have known this was going to happen. I’ve kept my old phone, and when I power it up, I find transit to the closest bus station. My paychecks from the club will get me out of Chicago where the rent is cheaper. I can find a waitressing job in a smaller town, putting distance between Chadwick and me.
I don’t expect him to honor my request, but I’m not sure I want him to fight for me. With only the dress and heels on me and my purse, I board the bus for Chicago. It’s
not full, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I move toward the back. It’s going to take just under twenty-two hours to get back to Chicago. I’ll swing by Kira’s—staying as long as it takes to get my belongings from the club—and will be on my way to a new life. I don’t know where that will be, but this will be for me, and me alone. With the bus leaving the hustle and bustle of New York City, I try to lie to myself that saying good-bye to a future with Chadwick is a necessity and my heart isn’t ripping into a million pieces. I fail miserably as the tears fall from my face.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chadwick
I lean back in the chair as I’m reading her letter. With each word, it’s as if she’s physically slapping me. I’ll take action. I’ll find her and convince her. But she’s not wrong. I can’t give up dominance, though I’m willing, or was willing, to meet her in the middle.
I pick up my phone and dial the one number I know. He picks up right away. “Chad, you okay?”
I know where he is on a Saturday night, and I would not have called him if not for a good reason.
“Jared, I need you and Kira to go back to your penthouse and wait for Eve. She left me, and with a fucking Dear John letter.”
He covers the phone, and I can’t make out what he says. The background noise is gone when he returns to the line. “Start again, Chad.”
My head rests in my hand, and the phone is on speaker. “You were right. She’s different. She can’t give me what I need, but what I need is her.”
A long silence falls between us when I’m not sure if we’re still connected, then a loud moan invades the line. “Fuck, Chadwick. You can’t force her, though.”
“I was going to sit down with her. I only had one hard line. You know me, only one hard line? I don’t want to beg her, but I have to make her understand.”
Shit, I am begging. I’m begging my best friend to sequester my kitten in her room until I can make it to her.
“Chadwick, do you know how unhinged you sound right now?”
He’s not wrong.
“I mean,” Jared continues, “if you want me to hold her for you, I will but…”
He doesn’t have to finish because I know. “Fuck, I love her, Jared.”
“I know you do.” His words are the nail in the coffin. “So what do you want me to do?”
It pains me. I want to punch something, hit something, and fuck something. “Make sure she has her final paycheck and move all of her personal items to Kira’s place.”
I’m gripping my phone so hard, though it’s on speaker, and I notice her cell phone I’d given her when she moved into the club is sitting on the table near where she left the letter.
“Anything else?” Jared asks.
“Yeah, make sure she has a decent phone.” I end the call. And as much as I want to rid myself of the pull for domination, I can’t. I’d been willing to give up so much, yet she still walked away.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Eve
My old phone begins to beep through the night, and the older woman next to me, though she looks sweet, is not happy at every notification. And because my old phone is a piece of shit, the silent function doesn’t work.
I won’t reply to Jared, Kira, Non-Nina, and Taya. Now, Lila is texting me. I turn it off when the scowl of the grandma could burn me.
“You running from something, dear?” Her words don’t fool me. With her tone, she’s agitated.
“No.” I mean for my tone to come across as assertive, but I fail miserably, and even in the darkness of the bus, the older woman sees it with the little bit of light floating in from the windows. “I’m sorry my phone woke you. It’s broken and won’t go to silent.”
She quirks her head. “Well, that’s something, a phone that won’t shut up.” Her humor is peeking through, and her cold hands touch my own. “I know a little something about running away. And if hindsight was 20/20, I may have done things differently.”
Why is this little grandma type so welcoming and calming when all I want to do is cry? “How can you tell?” I ask.
“Yeah, you live as long as I have, and you learn a little about life.” She gives me a small smirk. “And for your pain to radiate off you like a heating pad, I’d say it’s love.”
I do love Chadwick. There’s no doubt in the three weeks we’ve known each other, his assholeness has surrounded me and breached my barriers.
“And let me guess,” the older woman continues, “it’s complicated, right?”
A small laugh meets her, and she gives me a knowing look. “Complicated would be easy at this point. It’s impossible,” I explain.
“He wants something you can’t give him? Or vice versa? Am I right?” We enter Chicago with many lights, and it’s then I can see her wrinkles, but behind them is the most beautiful woman. And she’s dressed to the nines, which makes me question why she’s on a bus and not in first class on a plane.
“Yeah, you could say that. What do you do when your hard line is the one thing he can’t give up?”
“Wow, well, that’s a tough one, sweetie.” And the cranky grandma I’d woken up is nowhere around me. She is replaced by a compassionate woman, still holding my hand. “And you can’t accept him for his faults?”
“Well…he can’t accept my faults either.” This poor granny doesn’t need to know he wants to chain me and whip me and own my body in a sexual way. I won’t be responsible for her heart attack.
“You have to decide if a life of loneliness is worth it. Believe me, if I could go back, it’d be a hard choice. I built a great life for myself, and I feel selfish thinking about the man who still owns my heart to this day because I’d not have my children and grandchildren. And my husband was a decent man. I never loved him, and he knew it. And the passion in your eyes right now, I missed seeing in my own for almost fifty years.”
Her words cut me deep because I’ve been told you are lucky to grab love in your life once. What if Chadwick is my one and only? I don’t need an answer to this question. I can envision my life with him now and in the future. But then again, I can’t.
“I can’t tell you what to do, sweetheart, but I can say life is too short for regrets.” We come to a stop at the station, and she stands without any problems. It’s not what I would think for a woman in her seventies. It’s my guess, anyway. She gives me a little wink, accompanied by a smile. “I’m Jo, by the way.”
“Eve,” I return.
“Well, Eve, I hope you can make a decision you can live with.” She’s one of the first passengers to exit the bus, imparting the last bit of wisdom my way. I wait for everyone to depart. I can’t step off this bus yet because when I do, I know without a shadow of a doubt, I’ve given up Chadwick. It’s then I realize, I’m really alone, but this time, it has been all my choice.
Jared had sent a car for me, and it’s how I find myself at Kira’s the next morning. It’s funny; that was the first time I’ve slept in the room that was supposed to be mine when all this chaos started. Jared and Kira weren’t there to read me the riot act, but they wanted to make sure I arrived home. He insisted I could stay with Kira as long as I wanted, and I was thankful, but I’d be moving on as soon as I could make a plan.
I wake to a chirp on my phone, and it’s my automated daily banking alert. I’d never set it up on my new phone, and although Jared has given me a new mobile at Chadwick’s request, I’ll be damned if I take it.
My checks from the club were deposited straight into my account, and I’d barely used any of my own money since Chadwick had entered my life. And with my tips being deposited, too, I figured I’d made almost ten thousand—which I had hoped would take me a long way outside of Chicago.
I cringe, hoping my calculations are right. Picking up my phone, I say a little prayer, but then I drop it when I see the amount. Though my cell is no longer in my hands, I know I saw a balance of $111,286.
I’m fumbling through my clothes, dressing frantically while trying to get a live person to talk to on the cus
tomer service number. Dressed appropriately, I find my way out to the living room, the whole area surrounded by large windows, and I appreciate the view of Lake Michigan. I’ve not gotten over the words from the sweet woman from last night, and I’ve almost picked up my phone several times since returning to this penthouse to beg Chadwick for forgiveness.
Kira must be here somewhere because the television is blaring, and I grab the remote to mute it when a familiar face greets me on the morning news. The elevator music continues to play on the line as I wait to speak with someone at my bank. I still when the bottom of the screen message scrolls with breaking news.
“Mrs. Josephine Westbrook, eighty-eight, died in her sleep last night. The coroner is ruling it natural causes. Mrs. Westbrook was a nurse in the Korean War and was a POW from 1952-1954. She married Charles Westbrook in 1958. They went on to have three children and five grandchildren. In 1980, Mrs. Westbrook started Lee’s horse stables, breeding some of the most famous horses to race. Charles died in 2006, and Mrs. Westbrook was seen dating retired General Lee Dimer, the man she was captured with in Korea. The general died two days before they were to be married in 2012. Mrs. Westbrook was a proponent of animal rights and the Wounded Warrior Project—a real philanthropist in the Chicago area. She is survived by her children, Charles Junior, Judith, and Karen, and her grandchildren, Dina, Sarah, Kari, Carl, and Chadwick.”
At the realization of who the sweet older woman was on my journey from New York—Chadwick’s grandmother—I end the phone call. He’d told me once he wasn’t close to his family—only his grandma on his father’s side. “Kira?” I call out. “Kira?” I yell louder.
