by Sherri Hayes
“Do you not want to see Ross?”
“Yes. I just thought . . . I thought you didn’t like him.”
Twining our fingers together, I brought our linked hands up to my mouth. “I can put up with him for your sake.”
“Thank you, Sir.” She smiled and leaned in to give me an awkward hug.
I released her hand and returned the gesture. “I’d do anything to make you happy, Brianna. Anything.”
For the next hour, I held her. We talked here and there but about nothing particular.
When I couldn’t put it off any longer, I told her to go get her journal. I went to the closet to get the blanket I’d had out the previous night for the floor, and tried to wipe any apprehension off my face. This wasn’t something I was looking forward to, but it needed to be done. What had happened Sunday could have disastrous affects if it took place in a more public setting.
She walked back into the living room, clutching her journal and with her head bowed. I let her wait until I’d finished fixing the blanket. “Come.”
We settled into our spots on the blanket with her sitting between my legs. I liked this position because it allowed me to both read over her shoulder and provide her comfort at the same time. Yes, I could have accomplished those two things in both my chair and in bed, but I didn’t want either of those places tainted with any negatives. The chair and my bed were positive places for her. I wanted to keep them that way.
“Tonight I want us to start working on what happened Sunday morning.” She stiffened, and I leaned down to brush my lips along her shoulder. “I want you to write in your journal the words you can remember the men using.”
“Please . . .”
I turned her chin so that I could look at her. “They are only words, Brianna. Just words. They can’t hurt you, just like those men can’t hurt you anymore. You are safe here with me. Just. Words.”
She pressed her lips together but didn’t respond.
That fearful look in her eyes was back. I wished I could make it go away, but this was something we had to deal with.
Releasing her chin, I nodded toward her journal and waited for her to open it.
Slowly, she picked up her pen and opened to a fresh page. I could almost feel her giving herself a pep talk as she inched the writing utensil closer.
Then it was as if something clicked inside her, and she started to write. The words were written quickly, and I could barely make some of them out.
Whore.
Bitch.
Cunt.
Fuckhole.
Cumdump.
Slut.
The pen stopped moving and hovered over the paper before dropping from her hand, bouncing off my leg, and hitting the floor.
I reached out to touch her, and she flinched. It was subtle, but I noticed. Brianna hadn’t pulled away from me since those first few weeks.
“Brianna.”
Nothing.
“Brianna,” I said with more force.
She jumped.
“Turn around and look at me.”
When she did, I felt a sharp pain stab in my chest. The wonderful, strong woman I’d come to know these last two months wasn’t there. Her face was devoid of emotion. Her eyes were distant and unfocused. The sight made me want to cry and hit something at the same time. Preferably Ian’s face.
“Brianna, can you tell me what number?”
Still nothing.
Sighing, I removed the journal from her hands and stood. Picking her up, I situated us both back in my chair and wrapped my arms around her. She’d come out of it . . . eventually.
Brianna
I could feel movement under me, but it took me a while to realize it was someone breathing. Someone was holding me. It was as if I were underwater. I could hear things, but they all seemed muffled and far away. If someone was holding me, though, I couldn’t be underwater, right?
Gradually the sounds became voices. A television.
There were arms around me, holding me against a chest. I breathed deep, and a familiar scent filled my nostrils. Stephan.
I opened my eyes to find him staring down at me.
“Welcome back.”
His voice was calm, but I could see the worry in his eyes. I knew something must have happened to put it there.
“Hi.”
“How are you feeling?”
I thought about it for a few moments. “A little tired, and . . .” Glancing down at my hand, I realized it didn’t feel quite right. “My hand . . . aches?”
He nodded.
“You were gripping your pen rather hard, and you’ve had your hand in a fist for the last forty-five minutes. I’m not surprised it’s bothering you.”
Stephan took my hand in both of his and massaged each finger until the ache began to subside. I relaxed into him, enjoying the sensation as the blood flow returned to my hand.
He kissed my palm before releasing it. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
Thinking back, I told him what I could remember. “We were sitting on the floor. I was writing in my journal. And . . .”
“And?”
My memory returned. “I could hear the voices again.”
“Brianna, look at me.”
It took effort, but I pulled myself out of my thoughts to do as he told me.
“You are here with me, remember? Those voices? Those men? They’re not here.”
I nodded.
He sighed.
“Maybe we should get some rest and talk about this more tomorrow.”
“No!”
I don’t know why, but the thought of stopping whatever this was now frightened me. It was only after my initial reaction registered, however, that I realized I was not only holding Stephan’s shirt in a death grip but that he was looking down at me, eyes wide, as if I’d grown two heads.
Thinking back on what I’d said, I started to feel the weight of what I’d just done. Not only had I said no, I’d also yelled at him. I’d yelled at Stephan.
Bowing my head, I placed my hands in my lap and waited.
Nothing happened for a very long time, and I began to get anxious. I’d never said no to him before, and I had no idea how he’d react. Stephan was completely different from Ian.
“Stand up.” He didn’t sound angry, but his voice wasn’t soft and comforting as it had been earlier.
I scrambled to comply.
“Come with me.”
Following as ordered, I trailed behind him into his bedroom. We didn’t stop there, however. He kept walking until we were both standing in the large walk-in closet. I’d been in there a few times since I’d begun sleeping in his room, even though my clothes were still in my bedroom. It was about half the size of his bedroom, and one side was full of suits, ties, and shoes. He bypassed everything, though, and went straight to the full-length mirror on the back wall. Not sure what he wanted me to do, I remained a couple of feet behind him.
He turned, a determined look on his face. “Stand here in front of me, facing the mirror.” He pointed to a spot on the carpet.
I moved to where I was told. The last thing I wanted to do was upset him. I’d done wrong. I would have to face the consequences.
“Look in the mirror. Look at yourself. What do you see?”
“Me?”
“What about you?”
Unsure what he wanted, I listed the obvious. “Brown hair. Blue eyes. I’m wearing your collar. A navy blue shirt. Jeans . . .” I stopped because I had no idea what else he wanted me to say. That was it. That was all I saw. There was nothing else.
“Remove your clothes.”
I stared back at him in the mirror. The serious expression never faded.
Reaching for the hem of my shirt, I lifted it over my head, and let it drop to the floor. Quickly, I removed the rest of what I was wearing until I was completely naked.
Stephan picked up my discarded clothes and placed them on top of the large dresser in th
e center of the room. When he returned to stand behind me, he placed his hands on my shoulders and met my gaze in the mirror. “Now tell me what you see.”
I looked. This time I saw all of my body’s imperfections. The burn rings around my nipples. The marks on the inside of my thighs. I could even see the faint scar just above my knee where someone had taken a knife and cut me.
One by one, I relayed these things to him. With every word, I felt as if something were pressing down on my shoulders, although Stephan had removed his hands before I’d even started talking. I didn’t like looking at myself in the mirror. My scars were permanent reminders of what had happened to me. Permanent reminders that I would never be normal.
“So you don’t see a slut? A whore? A fuckhole? A bitch? A cumdrop? A cunt?” I jerked as he said each word.
Closing my eyes, I began to cry.
“Open your eyes and look at yourself, Brianna.”
I didn’t want to. I didn’t.
He took my chin in his hand, holding my head still. “Open your eyes. Now.”
I did what he said, but I couldn’t see anything through my tears.
Stephan didn’t release my face as he lowered his mouth to whisper in my ear. “You are a beautiful woman, Brianna, on the inside and out. You are not any of those things. You are not a thing at all. You are a person. A person who deserves everything she wants out of life. Can you see that?”
I shook my head.
He sighed and took a step back. I could tell he was disappointed in me, but I didn’t know how to fix it.
We took our shower and climbed into his bed. Unfortunately, he didn’t try to have sex with me. He touched me like he always did, but I wanted to feel him surrounding me. I wanted him to make me stop thinking. The fact that he didn’t made me wonder if I’d done something else wrong.
“What are you thinking, sweetheart?” He must have realized I wasn’t actually reading the book I had in my hands.
“Did I do something wrong, Sir?”
Stephan brushed the hair away from my face and tilted my head up so I was looking at him. “No. Why would you think you have?”
“It’s just . . . earlier . . . you seemed so disappointed in me. And then . . . you haven’t . . . you haven’t wanted to have sex . . .”
“Brianna, I’m not disappointed in you exactly. I’m frustrated with the situation. More than anything, I want you to see how truly wonderful you are. It makes me angry to know not only what those men did to you physically but mentally as well. I want to help you fix it, but I’m just not sure I can—at least not quickly.”
I didn’t like the way he was talking, like he wasn’t helping me. “You do help me. So much. I just . . .” Glancing down, I considered how best to word what I wanted to say. “I keep hearing them. In my head. It’s not that I want to hear them. I can’t help it,” I cried.
“Shh.” He pulled me into his arms and held me tight. “I know you’re trying, Brianna. I do.”
Finally, my tears dried, but I still wasn’t willing to let him go. If I had my way, I would stay in his arms forever and never have to deal with the outside world again. I knew it wasn’t ever going to happen, but I would take what I could get.
“Brianna?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you think I don’t want to have sex with you? It couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Then why haven’t you?”
His chest vibrated beneath me with his laughter. “You’ve had a rough couple of nights emotionally, sweetheart. I was giving you time to adjust.”
“Okay.” I knew I didn’t sound convincing, but it was the best I could do.
Then, before I knew what was happening, I was lying flat on my back and Stephan was hovering over me. He dragged my arms over my head and held them down with one hand as he reached between us with the other. The feeling of being surrounded by him permeated my bones, and all the stress and anxiety of the day faded away. For the first time in the last few hours, I could breathe.
Chapter 17
Stephan
I hadn’t expected the night to turn out the way it had. I had thought I was protecting Brianna by not initiating sex the last two nights, but instead I’d made her feel insecure. That wasn’t what I’d wanted at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Last night, I’d realized she was even stronger than what I’d understood her to be, yet she needed something from me. Brianna was submissive, at least to me. She trusted that I would take care of her, and there was nothing that said that more than the way her body became relaxed and pliant beneath me when I dominated her sexually.
She came twice—once with my fingers, once with my mouth—before I’d taken her. The instant connection I felt to her once we’d come together was hard to describe. It got better every time.
Her sleep had been interrupted only once during the night, which wasn’t bad considering. She’d woken up screaming, not knowing where she was, just after two in the morning. Once I’d got her to calm down, I’d held her until she’d fallen back to sleep.
She was smiling as she served me breakfast, all signs of her distress gone. It was always difficult to leave her, but I also knew she would be waiting for me when I came home. The thought of her not being there one day was inconceivable to me, and I hoped it never happened. Until then, however, I would be there for her in whatever capacity she needed me to be, and at the moment, that included protecting her from her father.
To be safe, I stopped by the front desk to check in with Tom before going to my car. He was just getting in for the day.
“Hello, Mr. Coleman. How are you this morning?”
“I’m good, Tom. And you?”
“Can’t complain. How is Miss Reeves?”
“She’s doing well. I wanted to see if you’d heard or seen anything of Jonathan Reeves since the restraining order was issued.”
“No. Nothing in the last three days.”
“Good. I hope it stays that way.”
“If I see him, sir, I’ll call you.”
“You’re a good man, Tom. Thank you.”
“No thanks needed, Mr. Coleman.”
My morning at work went quickly. The pile on my desk didn’t appear to be going away anytime soon, but at least I was making progress.
At eleven forty-five, I let Jamie know I was going out and headed to the local restaurant where Logan and I were meeting for lunch. It was almost exactly half the distance between my office and his, so it was perfect for these midday meetings. Plus, it was a little hole-in-the-wall place that was busier for dinner than lunch, which would mean more privacy for our conversation.
When I arrived, Logan was already seated at a small table in the back. I took a seat across from him. Before either of us was able to say anything, our server appeared to get my drink order.
“I think she may be new,” Logan said, the minute our server left. “She was here within seconds of me sitting down as well.”
“Nothing wrong with being prompt.” He smiled, knowing how anal I could be sometimes about people being on time. I didn’t have many pet peeves, but tardiness was one of them. “How was your trip?”
“New York is the same as always. It would have been nicer if Lily had been able to come with me.”
“I’m sure. Unfortunately, she’s up to her eyeballs in last-minute details for the fall fundraiser. October will be here before we know it.”
“I know. I arrived home Saturday night to find our dining room table had disappeared. She’d covered it with fabric samples, different types and colors of paper, ribbons, sketches . . . I know there was a method to her madness, but I couldn’t find it.”
I laughed. “Sounds like her desk. I was down there last week and almost didn’t find my way out.”
He smiled. “You seem happy. Things must be going well with Brianna.”
I didn’t get to answer him before our server came back to the table with my water. We both placed our orders, and I waited until she’d disappeared again
behind the partition.
“She’s still having some issues, but I’m not sure those will ever completely go away. Our relationship, however, has improved, yes. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Shoot.”
“I’d like to have Brianna watch you and Lily in a scene.” Logan nearly spit out his water, but I ignored him and continued. “Nothing overly complicated, of course. I was thinking some simple bondage. Spanking. That kind of thing.”
“You don’t think seeing us like that will freak her out?”
Feeling the need to be honest, I answered in the only way I could. “I truly don’t know. She’s asked about my ropes. She saw me use them on her father. I’ve also given her a swat on the ass here and there.”
“There’s a big difference between a swat and a spanking, Stephan, and you know it.”
“Yes, I do, which is why I think it would be good for her to see a spanking involving a couple she knows, who are in a consensual, loving relationship. Brianna’s seen and experienced so much negative. I’m only beginning to scratch the surface in getting her to realize that much of what she’s experienced as negative can be positive when done the right way and with the right person.”
“And you think her seeing Lily submit to me would do that?”
“I think it could help, yes.”
Logan took several drinks of his soda before responding. “When did you want to do this?”
“Next weekend. I’d say this weekend, but we have some things to deal with that can’t be put off.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll do it?”
“I need to talk to Lily first, but I don’t see a problem, no. We’ve played together at parties, so she’s not opposed to people watching. My only concern is her concern for Brianna’s mental well-being. If we’re in a scene, I need to know she will be focused on me, not Brianna.”
“I understand. I’d feel the same way.”
We spent the next half hour catching up on our lives over lunch. Logan was rarely home anymore for longer than a week or two at a time. When he was home, he was catching up on things at the hospital and spending time with Lily. It didn’t leave much room for anything else. Even now, he was planning to go on a quick trip to Chicago next week. Luckily, he’d only be gone until Thursday, and he wasn’t leaving again for at least another week.
