The Discipline

by Jade A. Waters

  “Okay. And you?”

  “Mmm... I think a mocha, too. But nonfat and no whip, please.”

  “You got it.”

  While we waited, a rush of people came in. We stepped aside but Maddie focused on me. “Should I be worried?”

  “No. We’re just going through some stuff. We need to work it out.”

  It, being all the mysteries, and Dean’s weird behavior over the last few weeks. And now, his quiet.

  All right, it was a little bigger than “it.”

  Maddie said, “Okay. Well, what about the sailing, then? Didn’t you two go sailing or something? How was that?”

  My mood lightened somewhat. “Yes, and that was fun! Super fun, actually.” I spent the time it took for our drinks to come up telling her about the ocean at night, as well as how much I’d adored both Cassie and Niko’s company. After we left to head back to the office, I took a huge swig of my mocha to try and get some heat in my body. “They’re really nice. I think part of the issue is Dean’s distracted with them here, but I have no idea.”

  Maddie eyed me over the lid of her own mocha, a blur of cars racing by on the street behind her.

  “It’s fine. We’ll work it out, when they’re gone.”

  “Okie-doke,” she said, gazing ahead, evidently reading my evasion of the subject. “Guests can be fun, yet so tricky, huh? Must say, the last week with my house all to my perfect tiny family again has been amazing.”

  I smiled. “I bet. Timothy’s got to love having his toys to himself.”

  “That he does. He’s like most kids his age, I suppose. ‘Yay cousins! No, wait, don’t touch my stuff!’” Maddie chuckled. “Remember those days? When our biggest problems were having to share with our friends? And maybe being told to nap.”

  “Tough lives we led, huh?”

  “No kidding.” We slipped through the door and into the heated lobby of WOFC and I was ready to rip off my coat. Maddie’s cubicle was the third in the row while mine was farther back, and I propped my cup on her desk and stripped off my jacket as she pulled out her chair. She lifted her hands to her hips. “Back we go.”

  “Yep.” I draped my coat over my arm, then tipped my cup in her direction. “Get to work.”

  “Ha. You too, girl.”

  Which was exactly what I did in a semi-successful attempt to shove the rest of my thoughts away for a while.

  * * *

  “Dean is... Dean. And you, Maya, you’re...so you. You two are your very own special kind of people, with crazy dating histories. That pretty much sums it up.”

  That was what Alex had said when he, Selby and I had finished cake tasting Saturday. Selby had pried over whatever was jarring my nerves, because the week had been so officially out of sync between Dean and me, tumbleweeds blowing across a dusty prairie could have made a louder statement than what I’d received from him. Guests or no guests, there was nary a hint of those combustible, tempting notes he often sent to fuel our dynamic, never mind a tender little something to keep us connected.

  This absence had been rammed home before the three of us left the bakery on our sugar high, when Dean’s bland text came in.

  Hey. Niko and Cassie left earlier. Getting stuff done. Hope you’re well. X

  Having spent a wonderful day with my best friend and her fiancé, both of them mushy as ever, and all of us sampling more cake than was natural, I’d shut the conversation down—despite Alex’s perceptive comment—because I wanted to enjoy our ride home.

  But Sunday morning, thinking over it had me running on my trail at a brutal pace. I pushed faster anyway. I didn’t only want to work out the sugar that no doubt still permeated my body, but to exorcise my frustration. I needed to sort my thoughts and calm my brain.

  I inhaled deeper, taking in the fresh morning scent of ocean air and the glitter of the sun on the water’s surface beside me. We hadn’t topped more than maybe forty-five degrees this close to the coast, but the light brightened everything up and warmed my skin through the long sleeves of my hoodie on my route out to Bay Farm Island. The perfect song came on, the bass working my headphones at max capacity to drive me harder. I felt the ache in my calves when I weaved around the mass of weekenders out to walk or bike over the bridge for a burst of outdoor activity, but the air soothed, as did the curt waves from fellow runners. Once I took the last of my tension and burned it off in a sprint around the field, the end of the loop carried me past the tree I’d inscribed all those months ago.

  I slowed to a walk, the memory of Dean’s first assignment bringing a sigh amid my gasps while I replayed that moment and many others. It was a series of enchanting experiences that I never wanted to stop. Dean’s behavior lately had been wonky at best—first overbearing, next evasive, then abrupt and smothering, and pulling back again. I couldn’t figure out what was going on.

  Yeah, we needed to talk.

  I hurried the rest of the way home. After a stretch, shower and breakfast, I sat on my couch and dialed his number.

  To my relief, Dean answered on the second ring. “Good morning.”

  “Hi. Morning. How are you?”

  “I’m okay.” His voice came easy, normal, a welcome sound I’d missed that week. “Trying to piece together the week ahead.” Running his own firm meant Dean often worked on the weekend, but he’d been good about keeping Sundays light if he could.

  “Catching up after playing hooky?”

  “Yeah. It’s all good though.”

  “You had a nice visit?” I asked.

  “We did. We had breakfast before they set sail yesterday at a place Niko and I used to go to almost every weekend when we lived together. The rest of their visit was day trips and sights, and a lot of hanging around. It was great to see them. Sad to see them go, but then again, I have tons to do.”

  “I enjoyed getting to spend time with them.”

  “Yeah.” He jostled the phone. “They liked you.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” From there, it was quiet—strange quiet, a lull in the conversation that we didn’t tend to share. I adjusted my seat on the couch. There was too much bizarreness, too much behavior that didn’t make sense. “Dean?”

  “Yes?”

  “I hate to say ‘we need to talk,’ but I feel like we really do.”

  He hesitated a few seconds, then said, “Well, you’ve said it. So...?”

  His cold tone shook me, but I tried to keep my own voice in check. My challenging dating history made these conversations feel like wading through ominous swamplands. “Something’s felt different.”

  “Different?”

  “Yes. Weird...shifty.” I’d start there. I didn’t want to jump into the secrets part yet, because I hoped he might own up to some of it without me prying.

  But Dean said, “Are you maybe reading into things too much? I’ve had company. Everything’s fi—”

  “Okay, no.” I pursed my lips. Why did this seem so hard? “I don’t want to come on strong, but it’s not that you’ve been busy. I feel like we’re shifting all over the place lately. Like something’s up.” I clutched the phone closer to my ear and pulled my knees up on the couch. I made out his breathing, the only sound coming through the line. Time ticked on by, the static percolating through the phone and standing up the hair on my arms. When he still didn’t speak, I said, “And, honestly, I’m uncomfortable with being in the dark on...some girlfriend you’ve never mentioned.”

  Dean sighed. “Maya, this is ridiculous—”

  “Please don’t shut me down,” I said, jerking my shoulders back. “This is not ridiculous. I need you to be honest with me. Please.” Oh, my heart clattered in my chest. I clutched my fingers into fists. That was such a hot button for me, he had to know that. I sucked in air, trying to stay calm and opting for a different tact. “Look, do you remember a coupl
e of months back when I pulled away and wouldn’t talk? And you asked me to be honest?” My chest heaved with my exhalation. “Talk to me. I love you. I love us, and I don’t want you bothered. I don’t want to be in the dark. Who is she? And why haven’t you told me about her?”

  “Because she’s dead.”

  The last word echoed through the phone, a harsh whisper in my ear.

  What?

  I stayed silent, my fingers quick to my mouth in a sorry attempt to cover my surprise.

  Dean’s voice dropped when he spoke again into an aching, distant sound. “Her name was Kendra... She was my girlfriend, years ago. But she died. She was killed.”

  “Oh my God,” I breathed. “I’m so sorry.” This was way bigger than I’d expected. I sank back onto the couch, wishing I’d known, that I’d brought this up when we were together, in person. Shit. “How?”

  “She was hit by a car, coming out of the hills.”

  Something terrible could’ve happened. People can’t see around these curves...

  “The hills by your house?”

  “Yes,” he croaked. “Not far from where you broke down. Her car... I don’t know. Some guy came to help, and when she got out of the car...” He stopped.

  Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Everything clicked then—Dean’s borderline panic at my flat tire and his worry then and later. Don’t open the door for anyone. Hell, even his attempt to punish me for breaking down and all the silence around this. “I wish I’d known. I understand why you didn’t talk about it, but... God, I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago. Seven years ago, but we were close.”

  “You loved her.”

  “Yes. Very much.”

  Questions flew around my head, but I didn’t want to dig when he’d obviously avoided telling me for this long. “Seven years isn’t long when it hurts like that, Dean.”

  I wished again we were together. That I could wrap my arms around him.

  He didn’t say anything. I said, “This is why you were worried about me, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. And because...” The line was quiet while he formed his words. “Because I love you, so much. I haven’t felt this way since...”

  “Since her.”

  “Yes. But it’s different.”

  “How?”

  “It just is. It’s too hard to explain. It’s good, I promise.” He breathed out a weary sigh. “Can we not talk about it anymore?”

  I had dozens of questions, too many things I wanted to know about her. From what I’d gathered, he’d been a player. Was it only since Kendra? Why hadn’t he dated since then?

  And had they been like us when they’d been together?

  I didn’t want to push if he didn’t want to talk about it. The fact that he’d shared, finally, eased my mind. I said, “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you for telling me.”

  For a stretch of time, both of us were quiet. I listened to the faint swish of his breath through the line, because I didn’t know what to say next. I’d never lost anyone, and losing someone I cared for... I tried to imagine what that would feel like, losing Dean. My heart ached. I wanted so badly to be with him again.

  Dean said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  “It’s okay. I get it now.” I lay on my side and curled my arm across my body. “I wish we were together right now.”

  “Me too. I wish this week wasn’t as slammed as it is.”

  “Well...” I thought of our upcoming trip. “If you’re still up for it, there’s at least next weekend.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” He put me at ease, with how charming he was and this unabashed mix of sensitive and seductive. “It’s your birthday. Of course I’m up for it. Very much so.”

  I giggled. “Okay. Because I admit, I’ve really been looking forward to it.”

  “You should be, birthday girl.” There it was—the slowly shifting sound of Dean’s voice. It was subtle now, but the budding gruffness swirled in my ears, alerting my senses to an opportunity ahead that made me press my palm to my chest.

  “Something tells me you’ve got something up your sleeve.”

  “I have many, many things up my sleeve. It is your birthday.”

  I still had questions about Kendra and other things that’d come up over the holidays, but I wanted to soak us up now. The fact that he’d started to open up, too. Maybe he’d share more during our trip. We did have a whole weekend together. I pointed my toes against the arm of my couch. “So we’re going to hole up, after all?”

  This brought a chuckle out of Dean. “For a good chunk of it, yes, but we’ll get out. Maybe hit the aquarium, walk the beach. If you want.”

  “That sounds nice.” I smiled. Dean and I had done long overnights that ran well into the next day, but never a whole weekend. The prospect lit a fire in my belly. Sensual seduction indoors and sweet sightseeing by day? Heck yes. “But please promise there will be some holing up.”

  “Oh, there will be. I know you like that as much as I do.”

  Things felt lighter, though the heaviness of the earlier part of our conversation hadn’t left me yet.

  Dean’s next comment helped to put it aside. “I think we should get back to basics.”

  “Basics?”

  “Yes. You and me, focused on one another, with lots of play. Maybe trying a few new things... What do you think?”

  My skin buzzed, my pulse sounding off at a blistering pace. I wondered if by “new things” he was referring to the same thing that popped into my head then. The flogger. I tried to keep my cool, instead summoning my sass before I responded. “Hmm. In that case, I guess I should bring all my toys, huh?”

  Dean snickered. “Yes, Maya. Please do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Before cooking my dinner on Thursday, I started packing for our weekend trip. I’d been getting more excited as the week went on, what with Dean having finally told me about the Kendra mystery and starting to open up. The reveal made me feel closer to him, like whatever worry I’d had for us wasn’t as severe as I’d imagined, and thus we were going to be fine. This thought made me smile while I piled minimal amounts of clothes on my bed for our getaway.

  I had a feeling I didn’t need that many things to wear.

  After laying out a dress for the birthday dinner we’d planned Friday night plus a couple of outfits for the occasions we’d head out by day, I set a bunch of toiletry items on the vanity counter in my bathroom. Then I got to work on the best part—choosing every toy I wanted to bring to load into the cinch sack I went to grab off the floor of my closet. I stalled when I straightened up, the sack in hand but my eyes settling on the box that’d been hiding on the top shelf in there for the last month. I slid it down into my arms and carried it to the bed. When I lifted the lid, a quiver started low in my stomach. The flogger was still coiled up on the bed of green tissue paper Dean had wrapped it in for Christmas, waiting for its moment.

  Our moment.

  I curved my fingers around the black handle and lifted it up. I’d been to plenty of toy stores and had hunted down items I wanted online over the years, and though I’d seen floggers before, this one looked different. The handle almost appeared custom made, a fact that made me wonder if Dean had special ordered it. It’s perfect for us, he’d said. I’d been surprised by it when I’d opened it at Christmas, but now, I was more struck by its appearance. I weaved my fingers through the blue suede tassels in admiration. The leather braids wrapping around the handle formed neat rows down to the strands, and I gave the flogger a little flick to test it out. The sound of the suede swishing together intrigued me. I hadn’t used anything like this, never mind had something like it used on me.

  The urge to try it out nipped at me. I took a step back from my bed and swung the flogger once, th
en tried again with more aim and force. There was something sexy about the sound of it gliding through the air all on its own before making contact with my mattress. When I did it again, the heat of my face trickled down to my torso to spread into my sex.

  This could be very interesting.

  I swung the flogger to hear the enticing sound once more, my swing awkward but hard, and the snap against my mattress sending a shiver up my back. There was no denying the anticipation dripping through my veins. I remembered the spanking Dean had given me Christmas Eve, how much it had turned me on and how hard I’d come, with the pressure of his swat firing cells like I hadn’t imagined.

  Could the flogger be as good?

  Or even better?

  I nibbled my lip and decided that yes, the flogger was coming along for the trip. The surprise for Dean made packing my other toys twice as exciting, and I hurried along, grinning at each of my picks before slipping them into the sack. Once I cinched the top, I hung the bag from the handle of my bedroom door.

  I was ready.

  So when I woke in the morning to an enticing birthday text from Dean, I had no doubt the weekend would elevate my senses in a brand new way.

  Happy birthday, gorgeous. I’m counting down the minutes till I can pick you up tonight and sweep you away for a weekend of sensational, mind-blowing play. Are you game?

  Definitely, I typed back. I’m really excited. And thank you for the birthday wishes.

  Good, and it’s my pleasure. I’m already at the job site...but I’ll call a little later. Will you treat yourself well for me today? All the best for my birthday goddess, okay? Love you.

  I smiled and climbed out of bed before typing, Will do. I love you, too. Then I set down my phone and headed for the shower.

  The day was going to move far too slowly, that was for sure. But the reward at the end of it?

  It’d be worth it.

  * * *

  When Dean and I pulled into a parking spot at the Monterey hotel, I breathed out a tiny gasp. “This place is gorgeous.”

  “You like it?”