by Sophie Stern
“What’s going on?”
“I, um, I’m really sorry to bother you.”
“It’s fine, Blair.”
“I just looked over the designs, and I wanted to tell you that you did a great job.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re satisfied with the work,” he said. I thought I detected a hint of amusement in his voice, but then I figured I might just be imagining it.
“I am,” I said. “When can we move forward with construction?”
“I have a project next week,” he said. “But I can do it the week after. Would that work for you?”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s perfect.” I worked from home, after all. I could just write in the living room instead of the office. It wasn’t like him being around was going to impact my ability to write, after all.
Or would it?
Maybe having Raiden’s beautiful body in the middle of my house was going to absolutely destroy me. Maybe I was going to find myself crushing on him super hard and be totally and completely incapable of rational thought.
Perhaps that was what was going to happen.
“Okay. Why don’t you come by the office this week to pay the deposit? Once that’s done, we can get it all finalized.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said.
“Raiden!” A female voice sounded from the other end of the phone, and I cringed inwardly. Shit. Okay, so he was definitely, totally, completely on a date. “Where’d you get off to?”
“Be right there,” he said. Then, to me, “I’ll see you later, Blair.”
He ended the call, and I stared at it for a long time. Calling had been a huge mistake. I was being a total idiot. He didn’t want me. He didn’t want a girl like me. He definitely didn’t want to be chased by someone like me. I had messed up my chances of ever being with a guy like him, and I…
Well, I needed to start moving on and stop worrying. I had a book to focus on, I told myself. That was going to be hard enough without stressing out over some guy who didn’t care about me. That was who he was, after all.
He was just some guy I kissed.
Some guy I’d been passionate about.
I went into my office. It was disheveled and wild and crazy, but somehow, I made my way to my desk and opened my laptop, and I started writing. It took a few minutes to get into the groove, but once I was writing, the words seemed to just flow.
She looked at him, and he smiled down at her. Oh, when he smiled like that, he could make her heart race. He could melt the panties right off her damn body with just a careful look, and that smile…well, that smile did it every time. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen between the two of them, but she knew one thing for sure: it was going to be wild, and it was going to be wonderful. Whatever happened between them was going to be fantastic.
They had their entire lives ahead of them, and it all started with just one night. That was all she needed, really. She needed one night with him. One night of passion could change your life. It could change your entire future, and that’s what she was chasing after.
That was what she wanted.
By the time I finished writing, it was dark out, and I knew that I should eat some dinner and go to bed, but somehow, nothing sounded good, so I closed my laptop, went into my bedroom, and sprawled out on the bed. I closed my eyes, and I hoped that sleep would come. Soon I drifted off to sleep and had wild and wonderful dreams, and every single one was filled with visions of Raiden.
*
I spent all of Monday writing, editing, and researching. My brain was swimming and exhausted by the time I fell asleep that night. Somehow, I managed to survive all of Monday without calling Raiden or texting him or even thinking about him too much. Instead, I filled my head with other things: mostly work. In the afternoon, I dropped off the deposit at his office. He wasn’t there, but I left the invoice and payment with one of his colleagues, and I waited to hear from him.
Tuesday was a blur, and I spent most of the day writing, but by Wendesday, I felt myself starting to miss him. I couldn’t push him out of my mind. It was harder than I thought it was going to be to get him out of my head. My writing was still wildly better than it had been before visiting the club, so I figured it was fair to say that meeting up with him in the first place had been a success. My editor had been right. Who knew?
“Of course, I was right,” Julie said when I called her that night. She sounded even smugger than usual. She was usually pretty cocky when I talked to her. She always had an opinion about everything. I figured that was what made her a good editor, right? She needed to be opinionated in order to help me.
“So you liked the pages?” I’d sent her my most recent chapters, and even though I’d been writing for years, it was always a little nerve-wracking to have another human read my work. I wondered if that self-doubt would ever dissipate as I advanced in my career. Maybe, but maybe not.
“Of course, I liked the pages,” she said. “I got off five times to your story.”
“What?” I almost spat out my drink. Julie only laughed. She’d never been shy, and she was a romance editor for a reason: she was fun. She liked to have fun, and she liked being playful with her writers. She was also wildly bossy.
“It was good,” she said. “Whatever you’ve been doing to get your story this spicy, keep doing it.”
“You know what I’ve been doing,” I pointed out.
“So you went through with it, did you?”
“Going to the club?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, I went through with it.”
“And?”
“Shit,” I said. “What do you want me to say? That it was the hottest experience of my life? That I can’t stop thinking about it?”
She laughed again.
“Yeah,” she said. “I want you to say all of those things, and then I want you to put that into the story. Make it good. Make it better.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I admitted. “It’s a tough one to write.”
“You can do it,” she said. “You’ve got a good twist, and you have a lot of good stuff happening.”
“You think people will like it?”
“Writers,” she sighed. “You’re always so good at what you do, but always so wildly insecure. Why is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither,” she said. “Glad I’m on this side of the publishing business. The idea of having to come up with story ideas that people either love or hate is horrifying.”
“Thanks a lot,” I said drily. “That’s very reassuring.”
“Glad I could be of help,” she said. “Anyway, back to business.”
“Back to business,” I agreed.
“Have the rest of the pages to me by next weekend,” she said. “I’ll get it proofed and formatted. I’ll tell you what I hate and what I love. You can fix any damage that needs to be repaired, and then we can order your cover and get everything set up.”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it,” she said.
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll send you the invoice.”
“Glad you didn’t forget.”
“Never.”
We ended the call and I leaned back against the couch. I was an independent writer, but I paid Julie to help me out with my publishing. She did more than just proofread my stories. She also helped me find problems with the plot. She helped me market. She got my covers ordered and made sure they met or exceeded market trends.
Basically, she did everything I couldn’t seem to do myself, and I would have been completely lost without her. She’d come recommended by another writer, and even though she could be intense, sometimes I felt like I needed someone to push me a little bit.
“You got this,” I told myself, and I sat back down to write. Raiden would call me soon about the shelves. He had to, right? I thought about calling him again, but I’d paid the invoice, and he’d already told me he was busy this week. Next week, he’d have time to com
e work on the shelves, but until then…
Well, I had a book to write.
Chapter 10
Raiden
The Wednesday night class came again, and this week was even better than last. I found myself looking forward to helping some of the newer players at Anchored get used to the way things worked. A few of the submissives were wildly nervous about really basic things, such as finding a Dom they could count on, or learning to communicate exactly what their needs and wants really were.
One little redheaded submissive was kneeling in the center of the floor and raised her hand.
“Do you have a question, Tina?” June asked carefully. June was a switch, but when she was teaching, she was all top. There was no question about it. She’d even dressed the part, looking hot as hell in a tight black dress that showed an ample amount of cleavage. Her husband was sitting in the corner, watching her with a grin on his face. I had asked him earlier if he was helping out, but he’d only shook his head.
“Nope. This is all her. I’m only here to see what a damn good teacher she is. Well, and to watch her strutting around in those boots.”
“Yes,” Tina said. “What if we don’t know how to ask for what we want?”
“That’s a pretty common question,” June said. “Does anyone have any ideas about that?”
“You could try talking about what your wants are on a regular basis,” a blonde submissive named Dennis suggested. He was taking the class with his boyfriend. They were both new to the scene, but very willing to learn.
“Talking about your desires regularly means you’ll always know exactly where the other person is at emotionally,” his boyfriend agreed.
“Not a bad idea,” June nodded. “Anyone else?”
“If you aren’t ready to talk about your wants or needs, then you might be with the wrong person,” one girl suggested.
“Excellent point, Sasha,” June smiled. “Can you elaborate on that a little bit?”
“Well,” she bit her bottom lip and looked around. Zack and June both nodded encouragingly. “The thing is, everyone’s scared sometimes. This kind of lifestyle requires total trust and honesty, though.”
“That’s true,” June said.
“And if you can’t talk to the other person, and you don’t trust them, then maybe you chose the wrong partner.”
“Trust can take time to build,” I pointed out.
Sasha thought about that for a moment, but then she nodded.
“Yeah, it can,” she agreed. “But I think there’s usually a certain amount of trust there right from the start. If you can’t talk to the person, like, at all, then there’s a serious problem in the relationship.”
Zack shot me a look, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. He didn’t even have to say anything out loud, yet I felt wildly called out, and for good reason. I knew that I deserved to be looked at the way he was looking at me. I had messed up as a Dom, and I’d messed up as a friend.
I hadn’t called Blair.
I hadn’t talked to her.
I’d been hoping to catch her when she came in to pay her deposit, but she’d never come in. I should have called her to schedule an appointment or at least talk to her about the way things had gone between us, but I’d…
What?
Been scared?
Afraid?
There was the matter of my missing shoes, too. I mean, seriously? Who leaves their shoes because they’re in such a hurry to run away from a problem? If that wasn’t indicative of my mental state, then I didn’t know what was.
“All right,” June said. She seemed to sense a sort of tension brewing in the air, and I knew her well enough to know she didn’t want that kind of drama in her club. “That sounds like enough brainstorming. Let’s start talking about specific ways we can open up the lines of communication.”
One of the submissives raised a hand, but before anyone could start talking, I realized that I needed a minute to myself. One of the most important things about BDSM was understanding your own limits, and I understood mine.
“Excuse me for a moment,” I said to the others, and I stepped out of the circle where everyone was gathered for the class. I headed out to the front area of the club, to the lobby, and I leaned against the door for a moment. Being alone was exactly what I needed to clear my mind. From out here, I couldn’t really hear the conversation anymore, and I was no longer part of the class.
What the hell was I doing?
I mean, really?
Not tonight. I understood why I was teaching the class. What was I doing with Blair? She was everything I promised myself I didn’t deserve, and yet I found myself questioning everything when I thought of her.
Was I really toying with the idea of taking a submissive?
Did I really want Blair?
Of course, I did. She was incredible, but I was scared. Was it horrible for me to realize that? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe being willing to accept that my emotions weren’t always fair was an important part of growing as a person.
“Hey,” it was Zack. I hadn’t even noticed him following me. I looked over at my friend. He was someone I’d always been able to count on, and he knew me better than just about anyone.
“Hey.”
“What’s going on?”
“You know what’s going on,” I said. I looked away and stared at the wall. I couldn’t quite force myself to say the words out loud. I couldn’t tell him I had a crush. I couldn’t tell him I thought that maybe, just maybe, I was ready to start dating again.
“Blair?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you talked to her?”
I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.
“Do I look like I’ve talked to her?”
“No, you look like you’ve been hiding out.”
“Thanks.”
He shrugged, as if to say, just being honest.
I looked around the little lobby. It was so ordinary looking, so normal. When someone stepped into this lobby, unless they knew what they were looking for, they might not have any idea about the incredible things that happened at Anchored.
That was how it was supposed to be.
June had done a good job keeping her secrets, and she wasn’t the only one. There was still something that bothered me about Blair: something I needed to get off of my chest.
“She’s hiding something,” I said, finally voicing my fear.
“So?”
“What do you mean, so?”
“So, who cares?” He shrugged. “People aren’t obligated to give you their life stories the first time they meet.”
“I guess that’s true.”
Zack was one of the most blunt people I’d ever met. His comment should probably piss me off, but it didn’t. He was right, actually. Blair didn’t owe me anything. She definitely didn’t owe me her story, so why did it bother me so much?
Maybe it was because as a firefighter, I’d had to make quick assessments of situations and of people. Every day, I walked into life-or-death situations that required me to make prompt choices. I found myself unable to make a quick assessment of Blair, and that bothered me wildly.
Zack looked at me carefully. I could feel his eyes on me, and I turned. There was no judgment there. Was there a hint of amusement in his eyes?
“Besides, if I had to guess, I’d say you weren’t totally honest the first time you met, either.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked. “What makes you think I didn’t completely fess up about my sordid past?’
“Did you?”
Of course, I didn’t.
“No.”
“So what makes you think she should?”
I smiled at him and shook my head.
“Leave it to you, brother.”
“What?”
“You always know exactly what to say to get me to realize I’ve fucked up.”
“I make more mistakes than anyone I know. Trust me. Better yet: ask my lovely bride,” he laughed.
We talked for a few more minutes, and as we chatted, I realized that I still had some growing up to do. I’d been hasty, and I’d been impatient. What Blair deserved was someone who was willing to talk to her and communicate carefully with her – not someone who would run off at the first sign of trouble.
“I should get back inside,” Zack said. “Coming?” There was still half an hour left in the class.
“Nah, I’m going to take off,” I said. It was rude to leave during the middle of a class, but there were more than enough instructors, and my head wasn’t really in the game. Zack seemed to understand and he nodded and then slapped me gently on the shoulder.
“I’ll let June know,” he said.
Then he was gone, and I was left wondering what the hell I was supposed to do next.
Chapter 11
Blair
“You look nervous, dear,” the two women sitting across from me at the brunch restaurant were the most intimidating beauties I’d ever seen. Tanya was tall with dark skin and short black hair. Heather had pale skin with bright red hair that hung in loose curls. Individually, they were gorgeous. Together, they were deadly.
And I had all of their combined attention focused right on me.
Awesome.
“I’m not really sure how I look,” I said. I glanced down at myself. “I tried to look nice.” I’d carefully selected a simple black-and-white dress that highlighted what I thought were my best features: my cleavage, my legs.
“Quite nice,” Tanya said. “But nervous.”
“What are you nervous about?” Heather asked carefully. She cocked her head, looking at me. I didn’t like the way they both seemed to read me so well. Then again, that was probably what made them such great tops. If you could read someone’s energy or their body language, it probably made BDSM scenes a lot more sexy, powerful, and fun.
“I didn’t say I was nervous,” I said, reaching for my glass of water. I sipped it carefully. They’d arrived before me and had not only ordered water, but breakfast, as well. I didn’t mind. They hadn’t asked me what I wanted, and I kind of liked the fact that I didn’t have to make any decisions that morning. I’d already made enough decisions that week to last me a lifetime. Having Heather and Tanya take care of choosing what to eat felt pretty damn good to me. I’d have to remember that feeling. I made a mental note to include it in my story.
