The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan

by Gemma Jenkins

  “I don’t know what kind of family we are. We never had anything but a card table.”

  “This is the guestroom. If we decide on an au pair to watch them when we’re together, she can stay here since there is an en suite bathroom,” he said.

  The room had a full-size bed with a cast iron headboard and footboard that looked like it was inspired by an ornate fence. A coordinating dresser, rocking chair and steamer trunk were the only other things in the room.

  “Planning on tying up the au pair?”

  He looked at the bed with a sexy smile showing a hint of his thoughts. “We may have to switch this set out with the one from my guest room. I could definitely have some fun with you on that bed.”

  He led her across the hall to a room decked out with a queen-size white canopied bed with bare mattresses. The room had two white wicker chests of drawers and two closets.

  “What would you have done if they wanted twin beds?”

  “The store would’ve exchanged it.”

  He pointed out the laundry room as they passed and she noticed a pair of red front loaders inside.

  “This is Cody’s room,” he said swinging the door wide.

  Nyxie stepped inside. Her eyes were immediately drawn by the huge multifunctional piece of furniture. At first it looked like a giant bunk bed, but the lower bed sat at a 90° angle and was only partially under the top bed. It was on wheels and could be moved out completely. One pair of uprights contained shelves and a desk and the other side a dresser. Rather than having a ladder, it had steps leading up to the upper bed and each step had a drawer under it for storage.

  “Makes you want to be twelve again, doesn’t it?” he asked.

  “No, nothing would ever make me want to go back to being twelve.”

  The look they shared showed his regret for speaking without thinking. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I thought the promise of getting up to the top bed might encourage him to work extra hard in therapy.”

  “I hope so.” She didn’t want to dwell on what Cody had in store. “Let's go see my room,” she said pulling him back into the hall and towards the stairs.

  “I thought about buying a bed exactly like mine so you could feel like you’re waking up in my bed every day. But I decided it would be too heavy for you to move when our contract is up, so I opted for something with a lighter frame.”

  As she made the top of the stairs, she could see immediately her room was completely different from his. The first thing her eyes fell on was a small desk.

  “After you get your GED, I expect you to continue your education—whether you go to a vocational training school or college is your choice, but I don’t ever want to see you struggling to feed yourself again. And in case you’re unsure, I’m speaking as your Dom. I would love to see you become and RN, a welder, a teacher or a mechanic.”

  “A mechanic? I didn’t even know if there was a right way to put the key in the ignition.”

  “Okay, not a mechanic, then. Maybe hotel and restaurant management.”

  Her eyebrows shot up as she weighed the possibility.

  “I’ll have to think about it.”

  She stepped away from the desk into the seating area. Whereas his had a couch, hers had two large wing chairs sitting at an angle with an octagonal end table between them.

  “I thought you might like a place for you to have some alone time or one-on-one time with your kids.”

  “You thought of everything.”

  She moved past the seating area into the bedroom area. He had placed the furniture to exactly mirror the placement of his. She had a king size bed with a white padded headboard. It was simple but expensive looking, refined without looking stuffy. It was trimmed out with a light-colored wood which matched the dresser and armoire.

  “It has a TV in it,” he said following her gaze.

  “It’s all beautiful.”

  “I thought about getting you a headboard similar to the guest room bed, but I hated the idea of another man tying you to a bed I bought.”

  She stepped up to him and put her arms around him. “When our contract is up, I’ll probably just return to my particular form of celibacy.”

  His arms encircled hers, holding her, stroking her hair. He kissed her forehead. “I don’t know which idea bothers me more: you with another man or you alone.”

  “I’m not alone. I have my kids,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “But I bet you’d like to have a couple of babies of your own.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve always thought when the kids were grown, I would start my life. I’d have time for friends and maybe a boyfriend or maybe I’d work on my education and get a real job. Who knows, maybe I’d kiss a few frogs, find a husband and have a couple of kids. It just seemed so far in the future, so out of reach, I never really pinned any hope on having any of my own.”

  He pulled her tighter into his embrace and inhaled the scent of his shampoo. He remembered the first time he noticed the way his bath products marked her as his and he wondered if he’d ever get past the possessiveness he felt with her.

  “Life really dealt you a shit hand, Nyxie.”

  She pushed him away. “Please, don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me. I want to be happy and enjoy my new place.”

  A sigh escaped his lips and he wondered if she dealt with her past by pretending it never happened. He wondered if she would benefit by talking to some sort of counselor. In school, he’d taken all the required psych classes but he wouldn’t have called himself anything more than a knowledgeable layman.

  He took her hand and led her down the stairs. “I think after we know how well your kids can respect the boundaries of my house versus yours; we may install a couple of doors so we can get back and forth without going outside.”

  They used the garages to return to his place and Declan grabbed the stuffed animal as they passed through so it could be washed.

  He pulled out a pair of plates and began unpacking the huge meal, laying it out in the order he liked to assemble his fajitas. “Grab a half-dozen spoons and a couple of forks.”

  He opened the tortillas, put spoons in the beans, rice, guacamole and sour cream and forks in the big container that contained the mesquite grilled chicken, onions, bell peppers and two charred jalapenos and another fork in the hot sauce but nothing in the cheese.

  “I swear the ritual of getting ready to assemble the fajita is half the fun.”

  Nyxie couldn’t help the little smile that emerged on her face. “We know how much you like anticipation.”

  “Yeah,” he said handing her one of the plates. “Ladies first.”

  “I thought I’d follow your lead. I’ve never fajitaed before.”

  “Really? Just throw anything that looks good on a pair of tortillas.”

  “More anticipation for you?”

  “Sure, why not. Think what a drag Christmas would be if you didn’t have that build up beforehand.”

  “Or what a letdown it is after all that buildup. Can we, please, not talk about Christmas?”

  He heard the warble in her voice and instantly regretted saying something so thoughtless. Christ! What a dick. “Of course, Nyxie, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it.”

  Nyxie kept her attention on her plate, assembling her fajitas and moving down the counter.

  “It’s not as if I didn’t get Christmas presents. Mama would buy Melinda a new coat every other year and I get one of her old ones. And if we needed new shoes or undies, we’d probably get those. Melinda might get a Beanie Baby or a potato-head and I’d get some plastic dollar-store or garage sale toy or doll. Mama said because I was younger, I would break my toys or, God forbid, pull off the tag. It didn’t help that mine were so cheap they usually broke within a week. Of course, Daddy never once stole my toys, hoping to sell them for booze money. So, who got the last laugh?”

  There was a flatness to her voice that made
Declan know the subject was still as painful to her now as it was when she was a child. Christ, he was probably pouting over not getting every expensive video game he asked for while she was thankful for an old used coat and someone else’s unloved toy.

  “Well, you and your kids are going to have great Christmases while we’re together.”

  “It doesn’t matter about me, Declan. I’m an adult now. But if I’m not working, I would be extremely grateful if you could spare maybe fifty dollars for each of my kids.” Nyxie took her plate and moved around the counter to the breakfast bar and sat down. She didn’t notice how he kept glancing at her as he finished assembling his meal.

  “You can’t get much with fifty dollars, Nyxie.”

  “My kids don’t expect much. Last year I bought them each one toy they really wanted. It was new and the best I could afford. I think I spent about twenty-five to thirty-five dollars on each. I contacted the people who do the coat drive and got them each a free coat. Then I found them each a small gift, usually something we can all enjoy like a puzzle or a game. I think when it’s something they all have fun with, it feels like they got more than they did. Sometimes those are from garage sales or the thrift store. You’d be surprised what you can get for three or four dollars. And then I tried to get them a change of clothes and shoes, pretty much always used. The money that’s left will usually buy some candy for their stockings and a cake mix. We’ve got a six cup muffin pan that fits in my toaster oven. And the cake mix makes twenty-four cupcakes which is a huge treat for them and if they want a gift for a friend or their teachers, they can give them a cupcake with a handmade card. I put a little food coloring in some sugar and they get to decorate theirs. And a couple of times, someone put Cody’s name in Santa Red and Sage. It’s Chimera Flat’s version of Toys for Tots. That’s where his bike came from.”

  “Why don’t you do that every year?”

  She shrugged. “I always figured it was for people worse off than us. I only put his name in when I couldn’t figure out how to get him something like the two Christmas’s between when Mama disappeared and I got a job.”

  Declan wondered if Santa Red and Sage ever brought her gifts. He knew instinctively, she didn’t put her name on the list and he didn’t understand why. With her self-esteem, she probably did not feel she deserved anything for herself, or maybe she just thought it was the mature thing to do, like taking responsibility for Cody or quitting school to work.

  She looked up at him teary-eyed. “Do you think I’ll have them back by Christmas?”

  “I’m hoping you’ll have them back before school starts.”

  He took a big bite of his fajita and closed his eyes as he savored his favorite food.

  “I hope so.”

  Nyxie attacked her fajita with the same gusto that Declan displayed. He was right. They were excellent. She started slowing down a few bites into her second one.

  “I swear I could eat these every day,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  She laughed. “Oh, Declan, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you through all this. I would just be lost. I know it sounds crazy, but I really think you know me better than I know myself. Even when you made me leave the hospital when I didn’t want to was a godsend.”

  Nyxie got up and began closing the food containers and putting them in the fridge. She rinsed the plates and flatware then put them in the dishwasher. When she looked up, she realized Declan had stepped away.

  “I forgot to tell you your checks came today,” he said entering the room with a small parcel in his hand.

  “My checks?”

  “Checking accounts still come with these antiquated things called checks. Go figure. Open them up and make sure they’re correct. Then I need you to write me a check for thirty-six dollars.”

  “I’ve got thirty-six dollars in cash in my purse if you need some cash.”

  “Nope,” he said setting the pen next to her. “It has to be a check so I can show the judge you paid your rent.”

  “Oh,” she said surprised, obviously not expecting him to ask for rent or expecting it to be such a small and random amount. “You’re only going to charge me thirty-six dollars a month for that huge townhouse?”

  “No, Nyxie. I’m charging you one dollar a month. You’re going to be paid up for three years. Junior is bringing a lease for you to sign saying the same thing. Even if we find we’re incompatible in thirty days, I can’t evict you for three years. All bills paid by your landlord.”

  “But what if the legal fees only total up to one year?”

  He shrugged. “It’s irrelevant. The place is yours for three years.”

  Nyxie opened the box and found the address of her townhouse below her name. “You’re going to have to show me how. It’s my first check.”

  He shrugged. “It’s pretty well self-explanatory.” He walked her through writing the check and took it from her.

  “I can’t believe I’m paying you with your money.”

  “It’s not my money. It’s your money, in your account. I’m not even a cosigner. I couldn’t get to that money if I wanted to.”

  She stared at him, her eyebrows knitting little lines between her eyes. Her chin drew up and dimpled.

  “Do you know how uncomfortable this makes me feel? The car, the clothing, the townhouse, the money; it’s too much. I never liked taking charity—even when you put granola bars in my locker. It just emphasizes how inadequate I am.”

  Something in his attitude changed and Nyxie knew her Dom stood before her. She tilted her head down and for once hated doing it. He was supposed to take care of her needs not make her indebted to him for the rest of her life. Was that his plan? Would he demand an extension of their contract?

  “Nyxie go up to my room. Get undressed. You’ll find the key to the armoire hanging on the back of it on the left side. Open it; get out my crop, my belt and my paddle. Place them an equal distance apart on the leather bench at the foot of the bed. Then kneel down with your hands behind your neck.”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  Nyxie resisted the urge to run into the pantry and lock herself in. She took a deep breath and began the trek to his room. Her feet felt like lead as she tried to maintain her normal pace as she climbed.

  38

  Nyxie felt foolish kneeling on the floor in such a vulnerable position waiting on him but the intensity in his look told her he played no games and she shouldn’t treat this frivolously.

  Crap.

  Declan ignored her when he came in. He undressed down to his black boxer briefs then went to the armoire. He pulled out the red ropes and tied each to a ring attached to the large bed but hidden beneath the level of the mattress.

  “Slow down your breathing before you hyperventilate,” he said suddenly without looking at her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Grabbing the middle of the white duvet, he stripped the bed down to the gray sheets below. She wasn’t surprised. When she’d climbed out of bed that morning, she had seen her virgin blood staining the fitted sheet. Apparently, he had too when he awoke and changed the sheets.

  He approached her and stroked her hair. She could see the evidence of his lust. She didn’t know if she should look down or look up at him or continued to stare at the huge bulge in the front of his underwear. He had a magnificent body—the body of an athlete, all muscled and lean. She would never tire of looking him.

  It made her acutely aware of her imperfections. She was all bones and sharp angles and lacked all the womanly curves she should have.

  Not even conscious of doing it, her head bowed.

  Declan’s hand grabbed her hair on the back of her head and firmly but not roughly pulled back until she stared up at him.

  “I wish I could bottle the look in your eyes right now. You’re so beautiful like this. I can see your desire and that look you get when you intentionally provoke me. But you know you already have. Does that paddle have you on pins and needles, Nyxie? Does it remind
you of the principal’s office and touching yourself in the girls’ room?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re not a child anymore and I’m not going to water down the impact of that paddle.”

  Nyxie wanted to say, Neither had the principal, but she suspected Declan was considerably stronger and he’d be hitting her on bare flesh.

  “Get up,” he said not releasing her hair. His pull on her hair increased slightly, but it was far from being unbearable.

  Nyxie awkwardly rose to her feet with her hands still clasped behind her neck.

  “Assume the position Mr. Jones made you stand in.”

  The principal had tape on his floor approximately three feet from the wall. He had made her place her toes behind the line, her feet shoulder’s width apart. Her hands braced against the wall maybe six to nine inches out from each shoulder. She didn’t grasp why the position had been so specific—if there was a letter of the law principals had to follow or if it was what the man liked to get the most bang for his buck.

  Nyxie moved into position and waited as Declan retrieved the paddle. She wondered if he had glimpsed Mr. Jones’s paddle or if coincidence had led Declan to acquire one nearly identical.

  The light-colored solid wooden paddle was as thick as her finger and as tall as a dollar bill was wide. The hitting surface measured a good two and a half feet conservatively with another six inches of handle. Extra wood had been added to the handle and to the end of the paddle’s surface to reinforce the weak area where it tapered to prevent it from breaking.

  She stood waiting as he moved into position and lined up his shot.

  He lowered the paddle, leaned towards her and spoke into her ear. “You will take what I give you and you will like it and appreciate it.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the paddling she was about to receive or the gifts he had given her. Probably both.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He moved back into position and realigned his shot. She waited. Her body tensed. She waited.