by Julia Sykes
“Sure.” My response was noncommittal. Miller – no, Reed – frowned, but he let it slide.
“Are you ready to order?” The cute blonde waitress with the perky boobs was back. And it was obvious that they were perky, because she was practically thrusting them in Reed’s face while she unnecessarily topped up his mug with half a centimeter of coffee. To his credit, he didn’t stare into her cleavage. Instead, he gave her a sweet smile, looking her squarely in the eye.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger with everything on it, please.” Reed ordered and then looked at me expectantly.
I gave a small shake of my head. “I’m good with coffee.” With the tension that was knotting my stomach, I couldn’t eat a bite. Besides, wearing so little at Decadence had made me painfully aware of how wide my hips were.
Reed turned his attention back to the blonde. “She’ll have the same.”
“Hey!” I protested.
But the waitress had already shot me a frosty look and turned away. I glowered at my partner, tapping my nails on the table in annoyance. “I hope you’re ready to eat both of those, because I’m not touching a burger.”
“Why? Are you a vegetarian?” His lips turned down in distaste at the thought. “I can order something else for you.”
“No! I don’t want anything, damn it. If I did, I would have ordered it for myself.”
Reed shrugged, unapologetic and completely unaffected by my aggravation. “You should eat something. I’ve rarely seen you with anything but coffee. Caffeine can only keep you going for so long.”
“I had a salad for lunch.”
The frown Reed turned on me was stern, and I couldn’t help the knot of discomfort that formed in my gut in the wake of his disapproval. I hated disappointing people.
“Is that all you’ve eaten today?”
I had coffee for breakfast. And dinner.
Okay, so maybe I forgot to eat a proper meal sometimes. I had a lot of work to do. Besides, Clayton always brought me Mu-Shu pork when he ordered Chinese for the office, which was at least three times a week. That happened fairly often, I realized. Was he feeding me on purpose?
What the hell was wrong with these guys? Couldn’t they leave a girl alone to govern her own life?
“Do all Doms feel a compulsion to boss women around? Or is it just the pushy men I work with?”
Reed ignored the jibe. Instead, a satisfied smile lit up his face. “So Smith and Clayton do it too. Good for them.”
“Do what?”
“Top you when you need it,” he answered simply, as though that made perfect sense.
“What does that even mean?” I had a feeling I knew what he meant, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
He rolled his eyes. “I can see why they wanted me to talk to you.” His tone turned lecturing. “A ‘Top’ is the dominant partner. A ‘bottom’ is the submissive. A good Dom will top a sub to not only get what he wants, but also to give her what she needs. Even if she doesn’t realize it.”
“So they’ve been topping me for years?” All my suspicions about their lack of respect for me were confirmed.
Reed shrugged. “Probably. I’ve only just joined the New York field office, so I can’t say for sure. You’re a natural sub, but you’re also stubborn and prickly as hell. If they’ve managed to top you for that long without you realizing, they’re good at what they do.”
My frustrated growl was not at all ladylike. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I am not a ‘natural sub’! I’m an FBI agent, goddamn it! I kick ass and arrest bad guys twice my size. Could a submissive woman do that?”
Reed’s glare was so sharp that it seemed to slash right through my chest, taking my breath away.
“Yes. She could.” The words were clipped. “You’re proof of that. No.” He held up a hand to silence me before I could hurl more venomous words in his direction. “You are going to listen to me, Sharon. I’ll tolerate insults when it comes to Smith, Clayton, and me. I know they come from a place of ignorance. But I will not allow you to continue belittling subs.”
His usual lighthearted demeanor had given way to something severe and forbidding.
Dom, I easily recognized it now. I shrank back into the booth behind me. He allowed the silence to stretch, his eyes warning me not to speak out again.
The waitress returned, but Reed didn’t say a word as she set the plates down before us.
“Can I get you anything else?” Her voice was low and throaty, her focus on Reed. He just shook his head, dismissing her and never taking his eyes off me. She stalked off with a little huff.
“Eat,” he commanded.
I reached out and grabbed a French fry. Its salty flavor hit my tongue before I realized what I was doing.
“Good?” He asked.
I found myself nodding mutely. It was delicious.
So why was I being such a bitch about it? I needed to eat dinner, and it tasted good. Sure, I was pissed that Reed had presumed to order for me, but was that really such a bad thing?
My taste buds were telling me that it wasn’t. This was a very, very good decision.
I plucked up another fry and brought it to my lips. Reed smiled, and the relief I felt at his approval was embarrassingly visceral.
I really did hate disappointing people.
“Okay, you win.” My admission was only a touch surly.
“It’s not about winning or losing, Sharon,” Reed told me. “If a Dom is good, everyone should win. He gets satisfaction out of taking care of his sub, and she gets the satisfaction of having needs met that she wouldn’t have seen to on her own.”
There it was again: the alluring idea of being cared for. I closed my eyes briefly against the unexpected wash of emotion that it brought out in me; resentment, grief, and longing.
His large hand covered my fist. My eyes snapped open, but I didn’t pull away. His touch didn’t send the same thrill through me that Derek’s did, but his warm strength was undeniably comforting.
Everything I had faced in the last forty-eight hours had all but scrambled my brain. I was already exhausted from the constant strain of my anger, and now the revelation that my friends had been subtly controlling me for years was almost more than I could bear. The fact that I was forced to acknowledge that their control had helped me only made it more difficult.
Natural submissive.
Shit.
Okay, so maybe I had a few submissive tendencies. The fact that what Reed described wasn’t at all like what I thought of as “submissive” made that easier to swallow. I grudgingly acknowledged the appeal of being taken care of from time to time. But wasn’t that what any healthy relationship entailed? Partners supported one another. And one of them didn’t have to be tied up and demeaned for that to happen.
I shifted in my seat. It suddenly seemed far too warm in the diner. I extricated my hand from Reed’s heat.
Research. This is just research.
I would focus on studying BDSM like I focused on studying for a test. Learning more from Reed would help me succeed in my mission, and that meant a win. A win meant accolades and approval with the Bureau. I would earn the men’s respect.
People pleasing. Is that a submissive trait?
No. It couldn’t be. I was taking control of the situation by gaining information and formulating a plan. My intellect made me strong, gave me power that I lacked in physical strength.
I wasn’t submissive. I wasn’t weak.
“Are you okay?” Reed studied me intently, his penetrating black eyes threatening to suck me into their inky depths. “I’m sorry if I pushed too hard.”
Damn it, why did he have to be so nice? And so reasonable? Smith and Clayton might have been topping me for years, but as soon as I realized that they were bossing me around, I had gone into righteous bitch mode. A few words from Reed, and I found myself questioning who I was.
But even though he had confused me, I felt calmer than I had in days.
I wasn’t sure if his words reached me in a w
ay the other men’s couldn’t because I didn’t know him yet, or if he was just incredibly perceptive when it came to communicating with me. He had known when a gentle touch would comfort me and when a sharp word would shut me up.
“As a Dominant, he’s a master manipulator.”
Did Smith’s warning apply to Reed as well? Did it also apply to him? To Clayton?
They had all manipulated me in subtle ways. I wasn’t at all comfortable with that thought.
“I’m good,” I forced myself to reply evenly. “Just… I don’t like that. Don’t do it again.”
“Sharon.” My name held a touch of exasperation. “You’re hungry. You’re eating dinner now, and you wouldn’t have if I hadn’t ordered it for you. Is that really so terrible? I’m not doing anything nefarious. And neither are-”
“Please.” The word was laced with desperation. I couldn’t allow him to convince me that this kind of behavior was normal. That it was natural. “I don’t like it.”
The seconds stretched out until he finally nodded. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I assured him immediately.
“Is there anything else you want to ask me about?” He prompted.
I didn’t think I could handle talking about BDSM anymore. Research be damned. I could deal with it later.
“I think I understand things better now,” I confessed.
Truly, I did. Reed had helped me to see that D/s relationships weren’t abusive. To hear him and Derek describe it, that kind of relationship sounded almost beautiful. In a perverse way. I still didn’t understand the pain thing, but that would be all right for now. No way was I going to allow Derek to touch me like that.
“There’s a difference between giving pain and hurting someone.”
I suppressed a shiver at recalling Derek’s words. They did something funny to my insides. The sensation wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.
“Okay,” Reed agreed. He seemed reluctant to drop the subject so soon, but his dark eyes read my unease, and he wisely let it lie. The man could read me far too easily. But I had to admit that wasn’t necessarily such a bad thing; he respected my boundaries, my needs.
“…having needs met that she wouldn’t have seen to on her own.”
I raked a hand through my hair, tugging at the tight curls as though I could pull the confusing thoughts out.
“How long have you been with the New York unit?” Reed asked abruptly, mercifully changing the subject. I clung to the distraction like a lifeline.
“Two years,” I told him, the words nearly tumbling from my mouth in their haste to escape. “I was assigned to New York straight out of Quantico.”
Reed grinned at me. “At least we have one thing in common, then. I’m guessing the unit’s okay if you haven’t requested a transfer yet.”
No, not yet, I thought darkly. The idea sent a pang through my heart. I didn’t want to leave the place that had become my home. I didn’t want to leave my friends.
All of my friends have turned out to be controlling assholes.
How had I not seen it before?
Reed’s grin turned to a frown. “Sorry if I hit a nerve. Are you thinking of transferring?”
I pursed my lips together. This wasn’t any of his business.
“I hope it’s not because of this assignment. If the guys are bothering you about it, I can talk to them.”
Reed seemed to have suddenly grown larger, his eyes a bit darker.
Protective.
“Can you cut the macho crap?” I snapped to cover the strange sense of appreciation that budded within me. “I can handle Clayton and Smith on my own.”
Reed sighed heavily, then shrugged. “Suit yourself. If you change your mind, the offer’s always on the table.”
My gaze turned sharp. “So you think they’ll listen to you because you’re a Dom and they’ll ignore me because I’m a natural submissive?”
His frown twisted further. “That has nothing to do with it. I want to have your back, and that includes supporting your decisions. I’m supposed to be your partner. Let me do my job.”
In that moment, a hint of vulnerability trickled through his iron eyes.
I’m not the only one who wants to earn the men’s respect, I realized in a flash. I had wanted to prevent Miller from stealing my op, but I hadn’t meant to burn him with the unit. This was his first mission, and he needed to prove himself every bit as much as I did.
I blew out a long breath. “Okay, Reed. I’m sorry. This assignment has just got me so twisted around in my own head. I promise I’m not usually this much of a prickly bitch.”
That drew a laugh from him. “I guessed as much. I’m sure you’re sweet when you aren’t biting everyone’s heads off.”
“Why?” I asked challengingly. “Because I’m a submissive, I’m a sweet girl?”
“No. Because I can tell you’re a good person. And I suspect that you’re a nice one, too. You’re only acting like a prickly bitch because you care so much about your relationships with the guys. You want them to be proud of you.”
I held up a hand, shaking my head sharply. “Please. Stop. Just stop it.” I was more than a touch desperate. “If I wanted to be psychoanalyzed, I would go see the unit shrink.”
“I hit a nerve again,” Reed said apologetically. “Sorry.”
Damn right you hit a nerve.
“You want them to be proud of you.”
I shuddered slightly. God, were my daddy issues that obvious? I thought I had gotten over that in college.
Apparently not. Apparently spending a lifetime seeking my dad’s approval, his pride, his love, had warped me more than I had realized. When the only person left in the world that you love becomes incapable of loving you back, that shit leaves scars.
“It’s okay.” My frustration with myself caused the words to come out through clenched teeth.
“No, it obviously isn’t.”
Why couldn’t the man just leave me the hell alone?
“What are you? A fucking mind reader?” I snapped before I could stop myself.
I gasped almost as soon as the last word was out. Sure, I had been waspish toward Reed, but I never flung open insults around like that. “Oh, god. Sorry, Reed. I didn’t mean-”
“It’s all right, Sharon.” His expression was shockingly gentle. I had expected anger, not calm understanding. “You’re wound up tight. I get that. More than you know. I’m not trying to annoy you or add to your stress. But I won’t stop being anything but bluntly honest with you. If you’re confused about what’s going on with you, honest self-reflection is the best way to work through it. No matter how hard that might be.”
The breath I drew in was shaky, hitching on the threat of a soft sob. I resolutely held it in. I felt raw, exposed, utterly defeated.
I didn’t want to face my anger, my confusion. Because I had a nasty suspicion of the conclusions that would come out on the other end.
Derek’s magnetism and the appeal of what he offered me were more alluring than anything I had ever known. And the fact that I was so intensely drawn to a Dominant said things about me that I didn’t want to believe. No matter how calmly and rationally Reed presented them to me. If anything, that made it worse.
“I just… I can’t,” I forced out. “Not now. Not tonight.”
Not ever.
Chapter 5
“Why do you want to be a Dominatrix? Yesterday, you told me you want power. Why?”
Those golden eyes were regarding me seriously. Derek’s playful side was nowhere to be found; the serious Dom was talking to me, and he was all business.
The sinking sensation in my stomach told me I didn’t like it when he turned that stern stare on me. I felt as though I was sitting in judgment, and I didn’t want to be found wanting. My damn penchant for perfection made me eager to provide an answer that would win his approval.
People pleasing.
I shook off the thought. Dwelling on the confusing revelations about m
yself that had arisen during my conversation with Reed the night before was too much to bear. If I allowed myself to focus on that, I would fall apart. I would fail.
I wasn’t about to let that happen.
“Well, I have a high-stress job in a male-dominated profession. I feel like I have to fight every day to be seen as an equal.” My admission was an honest one, even if I was lying about being interested in becoming a Domme. “That’s why I want power sexually.”
Derek raised his chin, his eyes slanting down at me where I stood beside him at the bar. He considered me for a long moment, and I feared my answer hadn’t satisfied him.
“Do you want power, or do you want release?” He finally asked.
My brow furrowed. “What do you mean? Wouldn’t stress release come from having power?”
His lips thinned, and I fought the urge to take a step back. He wasn’t angry, exactly. Just… disappointed.
“Maybe,” he equivocated. “We’ll see.”
What the hell does that mean?
“Did I say something wrong?” The self-conscious question popped out before I could stop it.
His lids narrowed infinitesimally before his lips quirked up at the corners. He had obviously read something in my demeanor that pleased him.
“We’re good.” The serious mask that had so intimidated me melted away with his grin. “Does this mean you want to train with me?”
His eyes flared gold at the mention of training. It sparked an answering flare of heat deep within me.
“Okay.” My response was soft, almost timid.
“Okay?” Derek repeated, his expression turning reproving. “I’m going to need a more firm answer than that. If we start this, you have to be committed. Of course, you can stop at any time if you’re truly uncomfortable, but know that I won’t give up easily. I know you feel like you’re making yourself vulnerable by putting yourself in my hands, and to an extent, that’s true.”
He touched his fingertips to my shoulder. When I didn’t pull away, he trailed them inward, tracing the line of my delicate collarbone. My breath hitched in my throat, and his smile twisted into something knowing and far too sexy for my own good.
“But I’ll be making myself vulnerable, too, in a way.” His lecturing tone turned rougher, colored by lust. I wasn’t the only one affected by our physical contact. “This won’t be a D/s relationship, but it will be more than a simple Top/bottom scene in the club. It can be difficult to separate the physical from the emotional when engaging in that kind of power exchange.” His smile turned lopsided. “Since I’m not sure if you even like me as a person, I think we’re safe enough.”
