Dark Submissive

by Shana Vanterpool

  At first.

  By the time I was done working out, the sun had risen. I showered in the gym bathroom and walked naked downstairs to get dressed. I took my time getting dressed, hoping to arrive late for breakfast. I chose black suit pants and paired it with a gray dress shirt and a black suit jacket. I combed my hair. I tied my shoes. I put on cologne. I grabbed my car keys, stuffed my pockets with my wallet and phone, and the entire time I felt absolutely nothing.

  I was a robot moving around and on the edge of short circuiting.

  Hearth and Brine was in a renovated warehouse on the edge of the Columbia River. Reservations were impossible to get, or at least I was told by Sam as he went on and on, as I tried not to tear my ear drums out. Parking was done only by valet and the chef had won a James Beard award two years in a row.

  I didn’t know who James was, but I didn’t want his beard anywhere near my food. I’d shaven this morning. Fucker should too.

  I was agitated by the time I made my way inside. The valet kid had conned me out of a fifty buck tip. I walked through the huge—and packed—waiting area for the hostess stand.

  “Name?” she barked.

  She needed her panties crammed in her fucking throat for being so damn disrespectful. I gave her a forced smile. “Jaxon. I’m here for the Carter party.”

  She flipped her book over and scrolled until she found my name. She tapped a girl on her shoulder and nodded at me. “The Carter party upstairs.”

  She gave me a huge fake smile. “Right this way, sir.”

  There were private rooms upstairs. She picked the door on the right and waved her hand for me to go ahead and enter. I wondered how much they paid her for that. I glided past her and pushed the door open to find the entire area decked out in wedding décor—knife, gouge eyes now—and crowded with people I didn’t know. There were two large stretching tables set up, waiters milling around, and champagne and orange juice everywhere I looked.

  I ached to have a glass, but drinking wasn’t on the cards anymore. I was tired of being a hypocrite and if I wanted my clients to remain sober, they needed me to be, too.

  I scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Finally, I caught Livie near the back corner, her head thrown back in a laugh. I wondered if anyone else saw how she’d tried to cover up a killer hickey with foundation.

  “I got carried away,” someone whispered in my ear. “She tastes so good.”

  I grinned and moved to give Sam a hug. “No more of these fucking wedding meals, please.”

  He wiggled his brows. “Sorry. What the lady wants, she gets.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s a precursor for your entire life.”

  He didn’t seem to mind. “I hope so.”

  I put my hands in my pockets, looking around. Sam was looking at me funny, and it was pissing me off. I turned my back to him and kept my gaze bouncing. Maybe if I didn’t look at anything for too long, I wouldn’t fall asleep or worse, bolt.

  The door behind me opened.

  Sam gave me a blinding smile.

  “Sorry I’m late,” a beautiful voice said, and even I heard the lie in her tone.

  I turned.

  My monster tore free from his cage.

  A woman closed the door behind her and turned. Our eyes locked for the first time in two years. Every single inch of me was alive in seconds. I didn’t realize how truly empty I was, until I saw the same emptiness in her baby blue eyes.

  She was heartbreakingly beautiful. She wore a simple red cocktail dress that hugged her tiny waist and accentuated her glorious legs. Only a hint of cleavage showed her heavy breasts. Her heels were blood red. Her hair was darker and longer, wavy down her back. Her blue eyes were rimmed in charcoal liner and red wine-colored lipstick painted her plump lips.

  Sam caught her before she could stumble.

  I should have, but I was on the edge of doing the same.

  “Miya, this is my long-time friend, and best man, Jaxon Damon. He’s a bit of an asshole, but most people let it slide because he’s disgustingly handsome.”

  I didn’t appreciate his wit but wasn’t about to tear my eyes off of my heart to glare at him now.

  Not when she was that close.

  “Jaxon, this is Miya Reemond. She’s from Vegas. Came up for my wedding. She’s Livie’s bridesmaid.”

  My hackles rose. Sly bastard. That would put Miya in my path for the next five days.

  Miya recovered first. She closed her shocked mouth and then held her nude clutch in front of her tightly. The leather whined beneath her hold.

  Don’t scare her away. I had five days to convince her that this was where she belonged.

  I gave her my hand and cleared my throat, throwing together my thoughts to form words. “It’s nice to meet you, Miya.”

  Her eyes fluttered when she heard my voice. She moved to lick her lips, remembered she was wearing lipstick, and then stuck her sweet pink tongue back into her mouth. I wanted her tongue.

  She gave me her small hand. “Hi, Jaxon,” she said softly, giving me a small smile at the game we were playing.

  Hearing her voice did the same thing to me. My eyes fluttered wanting to close and savor her words. I held on to her hand. Hers was cold. I wanted to bring it to my lips and warm it up.

  Instead, I let it go so I’d get the chance to have it later.

  Sam clasped my back and put his other hand around her shoulders. “Guess what? You two are sitting together. Come.”

  He pulled us both over to the table and pulled out the only free chairs in the room. How long had we’d been staring at each other? The guests had taken their seats and the waitstaff was plating our first course.

  I sat down, stared at my plate, tried to come down from the high of seeing her again. Instead, I smelled her perfume. So different but still somehow her. Roses and something else, something sweet, like honey. Roses and honey. Shit. My cock was so hard I couldn’t think around the blood lust.

  She smelled divine.

  I could hardly breathe.

  My pulse was hammering.

  I could smell her everywhere.

  I felt… alive.

  For the first time in two years. My heart was desperate for this. For her.

  We had to find a way to keep her.

  Or my heart and I would wither and crumble, become dust for her to walk on with her pretty red heels.

  5. – Miya

  I hadn’t moved.

  Tried not to breathe.

  If I just sat still, I could think. I needed to think. Or maybe I didn’t. Maybe this wasn’t so much reality as it was a dream. I wasn’t sure it was a nightmare, either. That was the terrifying part. I left for me, because I needed the space to breathe and get out from under the pressure of our love. And in seconds, that pressure was back. Bearing down on me like the energy buzzing inside of a storm. All that time I’d left, I hadn’t left that pressure.

  The intensity of our love had been waiting for me. Growing and getting hungrier. But it was my love for Jaxon. His love may have grown tired and gone elsewhere. He could be acting nice. Waiting to hurt me like I hurt him. Or he could simply not care at all.

  Which was infinitely worse.

  Sighing, I smoothed my hands down the front of my dress and then placed them on the table in front of me. The table cloth was the color of cream, and the scent of eggs benedict floated around me mixed with mimosa’s. I waved a waiter over and asked for a mimosa too. Sans the orange juice. So just champagne. “A bottle,” I suggested, giving the waiter a nervous smile that he returned.

  “And for you?” he asked Jaxon.

  I listened intently for his answer.

  “Black tea, if you have it.”

  “Cream and sugar?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  Had his voice gotten deeper? Or had my ears gotten used to not hearing it. His voice was rich and deep and yet smooth, flowing over me and giving me goosebumps. I couldn’t imagine spending two years without it. I couldn’t imagine two more years
without it. That was dangerous. That was turning my back on me and running back into the arms of exactly what had made me run.

  It was an entirely insidious thing to want, to need, what drove you to madness. I hated myself for wondering what his madness felt like now. It was sitting there, when I shouldn’t have been, when I realized something horrible. Maybe madness wasn’t the evil force here.

  Maybe I’d run in the wrong direction.

  Maybe sitting there ripping through my choices made me want to run again. Rubbing my temples, the champagne arrived at the perfect time. I grabbed up the flute and downed it, scrunching my nose up at the fizz.

  Five more days… and then I could leave.

  This wasn’t a second coming.

  This was the final straw.

  Still, the sound of my roaring pulse drowned out all the other occupants in the room. I’d forgotten what I was even doing there until Sam began talking about the flower arrangement. Again. Part of me thought it was endearing to see him so far gone over things like flowers, but another part of me wanted to stab him in the eye with my fork.

  Beside me, Jaxon grumbled and shifted in his seat. He reached for the sugar and poured two huge spoonsful into the murky liquid. I watched the fine granules cascade into the tea in a trance. The amber tea swallowed up the light crystals so fast, I never even got to truly enjoy them. But that didn’t stop the tea from tasting sweet. If anything, the sweetness meant more to the tea than it did to me. My eyes drifted to Jaxon’s face, and I found his dark eyes already on me.

  Our eyes locked.

  My heart exploded in my chest.

  He was even sexier now than the last time I saw him. His dark chocolate eyes were clearer. His jaw more defined, bone structure hard enough to cut ice. He looked leaner, too. He’d lost weight or gained muscle. He was so much man beside me. His cologne smelled thickly of spices, cinnamon and clove, mixed with richer notes like whiskey-soaked oak, and sweeter notes clung to the edges; caramel and something bitter, like cigar smoke. Tears filled my eyes at the aroma. It encompassed him so truthfully, I found myself holding the perfect aroma in my lungs as our eyes dueled.

  Without even meaning to, I’d shown him every single thing I was feeling. My face must be an I love Jaxon poster noticeable from outer space. I slammed down the door on my expired emotions and returned to my champagne, filling the glass once more from the chilled bottle once I’d finished what was in my glass.

  The first course wasn’t even finished and already I had fresh scars.

  I heard a rough exhale of breath on my left and wondered if his huff of air was from irritation, or longing.

  I smiled at my untouched plate and shook my head.

  “What’s funny?” he wondered softly, like he was worried he’d frighten me off.

  He wasn’t wrong. “I’ve been gone for two years. Not even twelve hours since I’ve been back, and it feels like nothing’s changed.”

  He cleared his throat and stirred his tea. “That’s not really true, though. Everything’s changed. Most of all you.”

  He sounded sad. I peeked at him through my hair to find his gaze distant on his plate, also untouched. “Wasn’t that the point?” I answered quietly.

  He heaved out a sigh. “It’s hard to remember the point of anything these days.” Sitting back, he swiped his hand through his hair and let his gaze fall on mine. For a moment, like static from a television, the picture cleared, and I saw everything he was feeling displayed in his eyes the way he’d seen mine. It was gone as fast as he’d let it go, and replaced with an empty scowl, but I saw it.

  And he knew I had.

  I picked up my fork and dug into my breakfast. If I didn’t, horrible things would happen. I didn’t leave just to jump right back into old patterns.

  The second course, of croissants and chocolate-covered fruit, were placed in front of us. Everyone around us chatted animatedly. I did what I always did. Sat there and faded into the background. If Axel were here, he’d be trying to join in, dropping useless trivia and pertinent details. He was a social chameleon, melting into any situation while I went unseen. The thought made me smile.

  Jaxon’s fork clanked onto his plate.

  “Where are you living?” he asked stiffly.

  I didn’t look at him. “You mean Sam didn’t tell you?”

  He took a breath. “I tried to respect your privacy.”

  I guessed it was presumptuous of me to assume he’d even bothered to ask about me. “I’m in Vegas.”

  “City of Sin. Interesting choice.”

  Fine. He had me there. “It’s only sinful if you want it to be. Plus, it’s all about temptation. When you’re not tempted by anything, it’s like walking past a yarn store every day. Harmless.”

  “Well, not entirely,” he answered. “I hear addictions to wool yarn are becoming a huge problem amongst the sixty to eighty age group.”

  My lips quirked. “I had no idea. Sounds horrible. What’s detox like?”

  He looked at me, all serious. “Polyester everywhere.”

  I giggled, surprised by the sound. I hadn’t giggled in… 730’s days. “Better than poker. I swear, if I never see another casino, it’d be fine by me. Or the heat. Jaxon,” I moaned. “It gets so hot in Vegas even my sweat sweats.”

  He gave me a polite smile, but there was something in his eyes. A struggle of good and evil. Polite and rough. “Doesn’t get that hot in Portland.”

  I ignored his jab. Or suggestion. With him, who could tell? Wait, no, I could. And it most certainly was a metaphorical elbow to my side. “Doesn’t snow in Vegas, either,” I reminded him haughtily.

  He snapped. He threw his cloth napkin onto the table and faced me. “When are you coming home? How fucking long do you need, baby?”

  Baby. My panties dampened at the same time my heart trembled in fear. I held his fiery gaze bravely. “I’ll decide. It’s my choice, not yours.” I stabbed at his chest. His firm, hard chest… “So, get your overwhelming personality away from me.”

  He did not. He leaned closer and put his mouth close to my ear. “You could have sent Sam a wedding present and a card. He’d never notice you weren’t here with all of the attention he’s getting.”

  “What are you implying?” My cheeks were heating with anger.

  “I’m simply inferring that you may’ve come for another reason.”

  “What other reason would there be?” I baited.

  He quirked a brow. “Me, my sweet girl. You came back for me.”

  My body was two opposing storms. Ice and heat rained and burned through me. I tried to keep my outward composure together. And not melt or burst into flames. “If you remember correctly, you’re the reason I also left.”

  Pain flared around his pupil. He licked his lips and nodded, accepting my unfriendly fire. “Yet you’re here.”

  “For Sam,” I emphasized.

  “Bullshit,” he hissed, drawing the attention of the guests sitting across from us. He shot them a glare so dark I knew he hadn’t used the last two years to change quite the same way I had. He leaned even closer to me. “Sam’s so in love he doesn’t know anything unless it comes from Livie.”

  I glanced over at them at the head of the table. Love practically poured from their pores. They looked so good together. Like they’d figured it out. “He invited me.”

  He snorted derisively and sat back. “It’s not enough that you leave me for two years. It’s not enough that I have to live with myself for being the force that pushed you away. You have to start lying to me now, too?” His tone softened, and my eyes burned. He grabbed for my hand, holding it gently in his. “When did things between us get that bad, baby? Huh?”

  I knew the answer. But he wouldn’t like it.

  “Tell me,” he urged.

  “The moment I pretended to be something I wasn’t.” I met his eyes and let the truth free. “For you.”

  For what it was worth, he didn’t look away. He didn’t deny it. He accepted that. Swallowed it. M
ade it his. “We need to talk. No walls between us. No lies. No bullshit. Just you, me, and our broken hearts.”

  I let him hold my hand a moment longer and then pulled free. He was right. We needed to talk. But that felt so extremely dangerous. “In a well-lit public area,” I wagered.

  His lips twitched. “How does my bedroom sound?”

  I blanched; my thighs squeezed together. I rolled my eyes at him. Crap. Maybe he was right. I’d gotten so used to telling Axel what he wanted to hear, I forgot that I didn’t have to do that with Jaxon. But here was the thing. Jaxon pulled the truth from me so completely, all I was left with were lies.

  That was his fault, too.

  6. – Jaxon

  Hell.

  I was in it. Watching Miya sit beside me as she put up walls so high I’d never get to the top. I wouldn’t stop trying, but there were many things along the way that could knock me down to the bottom. I didn’t have forever to get to the damn top of her damn barriers.

  I was crawling in my skin. I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and run away with her.

  But hadn’t I done that already? I’d given her no room to choose. Whether her choice was me or not, I didn’t wait for it. I’d acted like a Dominant instead of a man.

  She wanted to get to know the man now that she’d gotten her taste of the monster.

  I’d spent the last two years becoming a version of myself she could love. Now I just needed to prove that to her.

  “Or we could meet for dinner tonight,” I offered, fisting my napkin.

  She thought it through, built another inch of her wall, and then nodded. “Dinner would be okay.”

  She sounded so afraid. It broke my heart. I wanted to brush her hair aside and kiss her cheek. Tell her it would be okay. We would be okay. I was trying with all my might to make that possible. For her. For us. All I needed was the trust she’d once given to me so freely. I wouldn’t abuse it this time. I would cherish it. Put it in a vase and keep her rose alive forever.

  “We can meet at Vin Au Beurre. It’s a French restaurant downtown.” I saw it every single day on my way into the office. It wasn’t a place to go alone. It was a place to go with someone you cared about.