Letting Go 2: Stepping Stones [Awakenings 5] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Michele Zurlo

  He didn’t know how long he stood there brushing her hair. They’d both surrendered to the simple bliss of this ritual. Eventually, he set her brush on her vanity and kissed the top of her head. When she looked up, he captured her lips in a kiss meant to be searing but probably came off as more desperate than anything else.

  She cupped his face in her hands and let him lead her to bed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jonas brushed her hair before bed the next night as well. Sabrina breathed a contented sigh and let this take her back to better days. The second time they got married, the first time having been a business arrangement and the second time having been for love, Jonas had begun brushing her hair. The calming strokes settled her stomach, as she’d been suffering from a lot of morning sickness at all times of the day, so that was significant.

  On his end, this nightly ritual fed his need to touch her hair. It held an erotic appeal for him that she didn’t understand. Not that it mattered. She didn’t have to understand his attraction to her in order to reap the benefits.

  Now things were different. The rules seemed to have changed, and those things mattered. She had to figure out what he wanted from her, and she needed to dig deep to find out if she could give those things to him.

  When he finished, she expected him to lead her to bed and make love to her as he had done the night before. She needed to know he still wanted her, that he found her desirable. But he handed her something instead of taking her hand.

  She stared at the spiral-bound notebook with the black cover. Eighty pages of paper. She opened it to the first page to find it blank. Glancing up at him, she sought an explanation.

  “This is for you to write down whatever is on your mind.”

  She looked back down at the vacant white lines. They did not call her to spill her secrets. “Thanks, but I don’t keep a diary. I don’t have time.”

  “You’ll make time. It’s not a suggestion, Sabrina. It’s an order.”

  Her head snapped up and she stared at him in shock. She thought they were past all that. “An order?”

  “Yes. I should have made you do this before now. I should never have let you get away with pushing it off until the end of the week and then pulling this stunt where you refuse to talk until it’s all bottled up inside you. That was my mistake and I’m sorry, but we need to move past it if we’re going to figure out what went wrong so we can fix it.”

  His eyes were olive green, a reflection of the dark green shirt he’d changed into after his shower. They were as firm as the rest of his features, and his expression brooked no argument. She felt that place deep inside respond, and it took her by surprise because she was also angry that he’d given her an order outside a scene. Their conversation wasn’t going to lead to a scene either, so there was no mitigating those conflicting feelings.

  Yet he’d indicated a desire to fix what was wrong between them. She couldn’t fault his motivation even though she hoped the problem would evaporate like dry ice. “What if I can’t think of anything to write?

  “You will.” He moved to lean on the vanity next to where she’d placed the notebook. With one firm tap, he indicated the blank page. “From the beginning, I’ve assumed a lot of things about you. Mostly I’ve been right, and that’s lulled us into a false sense of security. Last week showed us both what a mistake we’ve made. In assuming I knew what you were thinking and feeling, I robbed you of your duty to figure out those things for yourself and communicate them to me.”

  She didn’t know how to be that introspective with regard to her own feelings. Sure, she’d learned to embrace her anger, but that was easy compared to this. Exploring the reasons she loved and hated submission might wreck her marriage, and that prospect made it feel like someone had driven a dagger through her heart. “I seriously don’t know what you expect me to say.”

  “I don’t expect you to say anything. I expect you to write it down. I’m not grading you, honey. I’m not looking to critique or criticize. Nothing you write in that journal will be used against you. It’s a tool to let me inside your head.” He reached out and ran his fingertips along the side of her face. She closed her eyes to bask in the tenderness in his caress. “It’s a way for you to tell me the things you can’t say to my face. I’m not completely clueless, honey. I know I may not like everything you have to say, but we can’t deal with it if you don’t tell me what those things are.”

  Her mind wasn’t working because feeling overwhelmed rational thought. He wanted her to write things in a diary so he could read them, which in her mind defeated the whole purpose of journaling. She should never have agreed to the anniversary trip. This can of icky worms would have remained closed. If she wrote down anything, it would be that expression of regret, but she didn’t think he meant for her to lament anything. “Can I do it in the morning?”

  In the morning, she would wake up in work mode. Her mind would be clear and focused on organizing her task lists for the day and week ahead. She would be able to concentrate and separate the subjective from the objective. She hoped. Perhaps writing while she was at work would give her even more distance.

  “Can’t I just e-mail you or text you?”

  He shook his head. “I thought about having you e-mail or text me, but then I figured that would be too much too fast. This way limits the speed of response, but it forces us to each take the time to really think things through. When you’re finished with an entry, put it in my top drawer. After I’ve read it, I’ll put it back in your underwear drawer.”

  Sabrina had many drawers in their shared closet, but Jonas had only one stack of four. As he had been accumulating more and more clothes—her fault for shopping so much—she considered moving just to acquire closet space. Rose also had a thing for fashion and Ethan had more clothes than a baby could wear in a year.

  She shook away that train of thought and nodded. Processing his request left her numb, so she climbed under the covers and turned off her bedside light. Jonas watched her for a moment, and then he stared at the notebook. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  * * * *

  Monday mornings were hectic, even during summer vacation when only Sabrina was going to work. Jonas made breakfast and made sure Sabrina ate. She had a tendency to forego food when she was upset.

  He wanted to remind her about the journal, but he didn’t want to push the issue too much. She was very close to a breakdown, but she wasn’t close to a breakthrough. The notebook was supposed to be a safe space for her, one where she could say anything without fearing his reaction. He knew she wasn’t physically afraid of him, but she was so terrified of his reaction, and possibly her own, that she had shut everything away.

  Ryan’s suggestion had been welcomed. Jonas preferred to have a conversation with Sabrina. He liked to see her expression and gauge her tone of voice. However, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. And he recognized that Ellen’s prying had been from concern. She hadn’t meant to upset Sabrina, and he had overreacted, his protective instincts kicking into high gear when he’d seen the distress in Sabrina’s face.

  He didn’t have a chance to look in his drawer until the afternoon, when the kids were safely napping. His heart stuttered to see that black cover in his drawer. Part of him dreaded reading what she’d written. He carried it to the sofa on the far side of their bedroom and sat down.

  I don’t think I’m the kind of submissive you want me to be, and I’m terrified you’ll figure out I’m not the wife you wanted.

  Jonas stared at her messy handwriting. She’d jotted it down quickly, before she could rethink her message or her wording. Knowing her, she’d rushed it on purpose. If she’d taken her time, she likely would have talked herself out of being so baldly honest.

  It crushed him that she thought she wasn’t the wife he wanted. No matter what their D/s relationship turned out to be, he was married to her because he wanted to be. He’d pushed her because she was heading down a road filled with too much stress and unhappines
s, but he’d pushed her too fast and too far in the wrong direction.

  When he broke down their week, he could pinpoint the moments when she’d hesitated, when he’d coaxed her to follow his orders. But he couldn’t identify any one thing she’d hated. Sure she’d resisted kneeling and being fed, but she’d ultimately accepted and enjoyed it. She hadn’t loved the idea of wearing a collar or leash, but she hadn’t protested it either. Had she changed her mind about exhibitionism?

  He halted that line of thought. He’d been down that road, and there were no answers, only questions. He needed to address the main concern she’d put down. This problem required a slow, methodical approach to a solution. Sabrina needed to know that he didn’t have buyer’s remorse. He picked up his phone and called Ellen. She picked up on the first ring.

  “It’s nap time, so I know you’re watching your stories. If you’re asking what’s going on, I’m not in a position to know that Sledge is really Sage in disguise and he/she is going to seduce Brock even though he’s married to Sage’s identical twin sister, Thyme. I’m not sure if that’s a love triangle or a quadrangle. I haven’t taken a math class in a long time.”

  Jonas laughed. Ellen’s addiction to daytime drama was a well-kept secret. Jonas and Ryan both knew that disclosing that information would put their lives at risk. He’d told Sabrina, but she’d dismissed the notion without asking Ellen for confirmation. As for himself, Jonas didn’t watch much television. It had taken him over a year to realize Sabrina didn’t have one in the bedroom, but that was okay. He preferred to do other things in the bedroom.

  “Summer afternoons are for getting some yard work done without having to stop a little guy from pulling up plants and handing them to me.” Teaching Ethan to weed was definitely a work in progress. Rose hadn’t yet developed a discerning eye, but at least she’d begun asking before she yanked. “Or relaxing with a magazine and an iced tea.”

  “Mmmmm.” Ellen somehow laced a healthy dose of sarcasm into her murmur of agreement. “Ryan’s napping. I woke his ass up last night at midnight when I got home and worked him over pretty well. He went to sleep smiling.”

  Jonas didn’t miss pulling the late shift at her club. Ellen frequently worked until two or three in the morning, so getting home at midnight was a bonus. He also knew better than to ask about the scene because she’d give him more details than he wanted. While he didn’t mind discussing technique or strategy, he didn’t want a play-by-play accounting.

  “But you can’t be calling about that. Nope. This is your first moment alone and Sabrina’s at work. Wanna talk about it?” She’d made the offer several times in the past week, but he’d refused.

  Jonas took a deep breath. “I’m not sure what to say. Everything was going great, and then she called her safe word, demanded the key to the room, and told me not to come back until after dinner.”

  A loud snort came from the other end of the line. “And you let her get away with that? Calling the safe word is fine, but the rest of it? You should have paddled her ass.”

  If he’d felt that was the right thing to do, he would have. “You didn’t see her, Elle. She was devastated, barely holding it together.”

  “That’s the ideal time to push the issue, when she’s the most vulnerable. Jonas, strong submissives aren’t pushovers. If you let her raise those walls, it’s going to be fifty times harder to break them down.” She hissed vehemently. Jonas could picture her pacing the living room. She’d either paused or recorded the soap he’d interrupted.

  However he didn’t appreciate her rush to judgment. “Ryan wasn’t nearly this resistant or closed off. He worshipped you. He wanted to be your submissive. He was a blank canvas.” Though Ellen was his best friend, he’d known Ryan longer. Watching the two of them develop a relationship had been an exercise in caution, but he’d also witnessed the beauty of it unfold. It had seduced him. He wanted that with Sabrina. She deserved that kind of happiness.

  She snorted. “That’s bullshit and you know it. We had our share of fights and struggles, but I didn’t let him go off in a huff without knowing there would be a consequence. He learned it was better to stay and talk it out or ask for his journal. I learned to take criticism, and it helped hone my technique. Twenty years later, we have a fabulous marriage and two wonderful kids. But that doesn’t mean we don’t still have disagreements.” The heat went out of her voice and sympathy crept in. “Jonas, problems are just a part of everyday life in a relationship. The key isn’t in avoiding them; it’s in dealing with them.”

  “We didn’t fight.” He exhaled in exasperation. “A fight would have been easier. At least she would have told me why she was angry. But she wasn’t angry, I don’t think. Things were going great. I bound her from hanging restraints on the stage in a mostly empty amphitheater. We had a great scene. I was looking to keep the momentum, but she called her safe word. She’s never done that before. I wanted to talk, but she refused. I can’t exactly tie her up and beat it out of her after she’s safe-worded.”

  Ellen was quiet. He heard her breathing, so he knew his cell hadn’t dropped the call. After nearly a full minute, she spoke. “The first time is always the hardest, for both of you. Keep that in mind. Ryan didn’t get much out of her either. She told him she didn’t know what was wrong and that she’d used her safe word because she didn’t want to do what you told her to do. She admitted that she’d used it incorrectly. He said she seemed frustrated and afraid. He didn’t understand why she’d be afraid.”

  Jonas heard the censure in her tone. It was likely Ryan had been so bothered by his talk with Sabrina that he’d required a session. Ellen blamed him for this mess, which worked because it was his fault. And she wasn’t finished.

  “Journaling isn’t an end in and of itself. It’s a communication tool. Notice how I never say things to you like ‘Ryan seemed to enjoy that flogging.’ I always know what he got out of it, what he liked and what he didn’t like, and I know the reasons why. It’s not just a byproduct of my awesomeness. It’s because I require him to tell me these things. We normally just talk now, but in the beginning, we mostly used the journal. Every now and again I find it set out for me on top of my bra collection.”

  When she took a breath, he spoke up. Otherwise he was in for a long lecture, and he hadn’t called for a lecture. “I used a journal. She left me an entry this morning.” He stared at her scrawled message, wishing she’d said more and knowing she’d revealed an uncomfortable feeling.

  “Was it helpful?”

  Ellen, he knew, had rules for the journal. It was neutral territory. Nothing in it could be used for punishment or in another argument. It was also confidential. Ellen shared a lot of things with Jonas, but she never told him the deeply personal and private contents of that journal. She wouldn’t ask what Sabrina said, and she didn’t expect him to tell her anything confidential.

  “It’s a start.” His first task was to prove to her that she was the wife he wanted.

  “You have a strategy?”

  “Yeah. I think I went too fast, tried too much.”

  Ellen growled. “You think or you know?”

  “She didn’t say a lot.” He wanted to get defensive, but he knew she was right. As he’d told Sabrina, he needed to stop guessing. “I know I need some time alone with her this evening.”

  “Are you asking me to babysit on my night off?” She purred too sweetly.

  “I can return the favor, you know.”

  Ellen chuckled. “You’re too easy. I would have settled for ice cream.”

  “I’ll bring the kids over as soon as they wake up.”

  * * * *

  Sabrina was tempted to skip lunch, but she knew Jonas would get mad at her if he found out. Whenever they fought or if she was facing a particularly stressful deadline, he became obsessive about making sure she had regular meals. She was contemplating lunch order options when her secretary buzzed to let her know she had visitors.

  The only people in the habit of showing up at her o
ffice without an appointment were the Galens, and since they were the largest account Rife and Company had ever landed, she put up with it. If she had her way, she’d take Stephen and his father aside and give them a stern reminder about manners. Even a half hour’s notice would be appreciated.

  She’d known them since she was a teenager, and she’d spent six years on Stephen’s arm. They were friends now, though not the kind she typically had over to the house. Jonas liked Stephen and Mr. Galen, but Sabrina thought that inviting her ex over on a regular basis was tacky. She’d kill Jonas if he had his ex-wife over for any reason.

  Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and went to the door. If the Galens wanted a meeting, they could talk over food. But it wasn’t them. She opened the door to her office to find her sister, Ginny, standing there with Sophia. Sophia had married Ginny’s best friend and business partner, Drew Snow, and now Sophia was as close to Ginny as she was to Sabrina.

  She was three years younger and they had different fathers, but Ginny looked a lot like Sabrina. They had the same height, build, and coloring, though Ginny wore her hair a little shorter. It brushed the top of her shoulders, which was about twice as long as it used to be. People who didn’t know them both often mistook them for one another.

  Ginny spread her arms wide and grinned. “Surprise! We’re taking you out to lunch.”

  Sabrina hadn’t spoken to Ginny since her birthday dinner nearly a month before, and that was unusual. She was close to her sister. Though they lived almost an hour from one another, they tried to talk or email at least once a day. She returned Ginny’s smile and hugged her tightly. Part of her envied her sister the right to wear jeans and a cotton T-shirt during the workweek. Even Sophia dressed casually.