Dare to Submit

by Carly Phillips

  Decklan frowned, Isabelle’s words hammering home even more issues with Amanda’s behavior. “She ate with my family. She went shopping with you. And all the while, she was involved with another man?”

  “Maybe.” Isabelle held firm.

  “Call her,” Lucy said, caving in a little. “See if she answers.”

  He shook his head. “She’s supposed to be at my place by five. I’ll have my answers then.”

  “You can wait?” his sister asked, sounding amazed.

  He spun around to face her. “I have no choice. I’m a cop. I’m good at reading people.” Or he’d thought he was. “I want to look into her face when I tell her what I saw. And I’ll know then if she led me around by my—” He cut off his thought in deference to the women.

  “I’ve heard the word dick before,” Lucy said, trying to make him laugh. “I’ve even seen one.”

  Isabelle grinned.

  Decklan placed his hands over his ears, and Gabe’s already dark expression turned thunderous. “I don’t care how old you are, you don’t say those things in front of your brothers.”

  Both Lucy and Isabelle laughed.

  “Get back to whatever you were going to say,” Gabe muttered.

  Decklan glanced back at the laptop screen. “Bradley Ritter’s a software genius worth billions.” It was the first thing that came up other than the fact that he was Senator Ritter’s son.

  “Could that be why she held on to him? Because he’s rich?” Lucy asked.

  “No,” Decklan said immediately. No matter what, Amanda wasn’t a gold digger. “I don’t know what’s going on, but that doesn’t jibe with the woman I’ve come to know.”

  To his relief, no one reminded him there was every chance he didn’t know her as well as he’d thought. He continued to read. The search turned up the basics on the senator’s son. Where he’d grown up, gone to college—the same college as Amanda, which confirmed what Amanda had already told him, that she’d met her friend Bradley in college.

  And when Decklan had had his brief moment of jealousy over the man she’d spoken so fondly of, Amanda hadn’t reassured him. Instead, she’d panicked that Decklan was getting jealous when theirs was supposed to be a one-night stand, something fun and not serious. True, one thing they’d agreed upon from the start was that neither one of them did relationships, but Decklan had changed his mind. And he’d thought she was well on her way. Or maybe he’d just hoped he could bring her around to his way of thinking.

  What a joke.

  He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. He didn’t doubt that Amanda felt something for him. What he now distrusted was her integrity. No wonder the thought of something more intimate and permanent freaked her out. She was already committed to another man.

  FIFTEEN

  Amanda ran out of The Plaza the first chance she got and grabbed a cab to Decklan’s apartment. She was horrified and shocked by the senator’s speech. She’d been blindsided by his public announcement naming her as his soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Brad had been taken off guard as well. Now they both had potential damage control to do with the men in their lives.

  For Amanda, it no longer mattered that she’d intended to tell Decklan everything tonight, not if he already knew. She’d left Brad to deal with the congratulations and the fallout, not caring how it looked to the men in the senator’s political party. Not caring about anything but getting to Decklan and hopefully revealing everything first.

  The taxi dropped her off at his apartment building, and she hit the buzzer, relieved when he let her right in. By the time she reached his unit, she was out of breath and really scared in a way she couldn’t put into words. Because she suddenly realized how much she had to lose.

  She raised her hand to knock when the door swung open and Decklan stood in front of her. He looked sexy in his gray sweats and white tee shirt, the muscles in his forearms bulging. His eyes lit on hers, and the dark blue didn’t glitter with anything but anger. Added to the serious look on his face, her hopes disintegrated.

  “You saw the news,” she said.

  He inclined his head, his expression bland.

  She licked her lips. “I can explain.”

  “This I’d like to hear,” he said in a cool tone. He swept a hand through the air, gesturing for her to come inside.

  She swallowed and walked in ahead of him, her grip on her handbag so tight her knuckles hurt. “Decklan, it’s not what it looked like. Or even what it sounded like.”

  He turned, his arms folded across his chest, completely withdrawn from her. “So the senator didn’t announce his candidacy for president of the United States on live television and thank his family, including his soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Amanda? And that wasn’t you standing behind him in the exact same outfit?”

  She laid her bag down on the sofa. “He said that. He even believes that, but it isn’t true. You know it can’t be true. I’m not involved with anyone but you.”

  She reached out to touch him, but he stepped away. “I didn’t notice you or his son correcting him.”

  A chill rushed through her at the distance, both emotional and physical, that he put between them. It was as if the situation didn’t involve him personally at all. He didn’t even look at her with warmth.

  Her insides trembled, and she was glad she hadn’t eaten anything earlier. “I couldn’t say anything. I—” She gathered her thoughts, caught her breath. “If it means anything, I planned on telling you everything tonight. I told Brad I didn’t want anything between us.”

  “Yeah, because it bothered you so much all along?”

  God, she really didn’t like this cold side of him, especially when directed at her. “It wasn’t my story to reveal. Decklan, Brad’s gay. He’s in the closet because of his father’s right wing leanings. And since I never wanted a relationship with anyone, I became his fake girlfriend. He’s got a man he loves and who he can’t be with. Not in public.”

  Decklan shook his head. “Don’t ask me to feel sorry for him. He knew we were together, and he didn’t come clean or release his hold on you and let you do it either. I call that selfish.”

  She shook her head in automatic denial. “He’s not. He’s been good to me. He was there for me.” She groaned. “Look, I met him as soon as I got to college. It was right after I was hurt by the guy who took my virginity and then blamed me because he was too quick on the draw. I went away to school at my lowest, and if not for Brad’s friendship, I might have spiraled back into a nasty cycle of depression and bingeing and purging. So don’t feel sorry for him, but understand, please? I felt like I owed him my loyalty.”

  He stood up straighter, arms folded, anger clear. “And what did you owe the man you were sleeping with?”

  Bulls-eye, she thought, his words stabbing her in the heart. “We were supposed to be just for fun,” she whispered.

  Those gorgeous eyes flashed with angry sparks. “Well, it got serious pretty damned quickly,” he reminded her, shredding her with his words. “And even if it wasn’t, you belong to the club. You know the rules in a D/s relationship. Honesty is important. Hell, it’s important in any kind of relationship.”

  “Well, I don’t know how to have one! And you knew that.”

  Her words stopped Decklan in his self-righteous tracks. His eyes narrowed as they looked at her, still glacial, but he’d flinched, letting her know she’d hit a target herself.

  “Good point,” he finally said.

  “What?”

  He stalked toward her. Not stepped. Stalked. “I said, good point. You don’t know the first thing about having a real relationship.” He stood so close his body heat radiated into her, arousing her as much as the argument had.

  Yep, fighting with him turned her on. She’d have to examine that another time.

  “But you do understand another kind of relationship, the only kind you let yourself have for years, and you violated those rules.”

  She blinked at the strong, commanding tone in his voice. “I
hadn’t thought of it that way.” But if they’d been in the club and she’d been caught lying… “Yes, I understand.”

  His eyes darkened to a stormy hue. “So you’ve earned a punishment.”

  Normally those words would excite her but not now. Not when he was clearly still unhappy with her. He’d never been disappointed in her before, and she didn’t like the feeling. It reminded her too much of the disappointment she’d been to her mother, and she wanted to withdraw into herself. But she refused to give in to the impulse. She had to stand her ground, accept responsibility, and deal with the fallout of her actions.

  But she didn’t like not knowing where she stood with him. The gulf between them was huge, and she didn’t know how to breach it. “Decklan, I’m sorry.”

  “Good to know. So let’s get this over with.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Clothes off.”

  Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would explode. She wanted him but not this way. She didn’t want a club relationship with him; she wanted something real. Like what they’d been sharing before he found out about her so-called engagement. She wanted any punishment to be play and not because she’d let him down. But she had to earn her way back into his good graces.

  Looking at his tightly drawn expression, she realized he was hurt. He needed this outlet. And she was willing to give it to him. But more than that, she wanted to learn from this. To be in this thing and fully committed. The problem with that was, she really didn’t know what he wanted from her beyond making his point now.

  She shrugged off her jacket, folded it and placed it on the couch, then kicked off her heels and set them out of the way.

  He watched in stony silence. It was killing her. Her hands shook, but she continued to do as he’d demanded. She wriggled out of her skirt. Folded and set it on top of the jacket. Her camisole came next, and then she was standing in front of him in nothing but the tiny scrap of pale yellow lace she’d picked out because it and the bra matched her outfit.

  If she wanted to prove to him that she was sorry, that she wanted more than this, she had to get past the walls he’d erected. Because she wasn’t the only one who’d risked a part of herself by getting in deeper than a one-night stand. He didn’t do relationships either, but he’d committed himself to more. With her. And she’d let him down.

  She clasped her hands in front of her and waited for more instruction as he stared at her dispassionately, the only indication he felt something the subtle clenching of his jaw.

  Standing here so exposed and getting no reaction was worse than the first time she’d gotten naked for him. At least then he’d looked at her with yearning and desire. With warmth. He’d made her forget her struggles with her body image, which was no small feat. She’d thought she was at her most vulnerable then.

  She’d been so wrong. This, now, stripped her bare inside and out.

  Decklan freely admitted he’d wanted to teach Amanda a lesson. He wanted her to feel his lack of warmth and affection, and understand all she’d risked by keeping something so important a secret. He also wanted an outlet for the anger that he’d built up since seeing her on that television screen and having his relationship dissected by his family. In front of them, he’d tried to act unaffected and logical, but as hours had passed, his hurt and sense of betrayal had grown. By the time she’d walked into his apartment, he’d been itching for the fight he knew was coming.

  It had taken all his self-control to watch her strip for him and not touch her creamy skin. To not visibly react to seeing her reveal inch after inch of the body he adored. Her breasts were full and ripe, spilling over her bra. Her barely there panties teased him with the feminine secrets and heat hidden beneath. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her and forget that she’d kept such a big secret. That she hadn’t trusted him enough to let him in. That for a few hours, he’d actually wondered if he could possibly lose her. Or if he’d never really had her at all.

  He’d taken a leap by letting her in, trusting her with his heart, whether he’d verbalized it or not. He didn’t do relationships either, but he’d committed himself to her. And in one minute, he’d had the illusion of happiness ripped away.

  He’d experienced that once before and promised himself never again. So, yes, he had a lot of anger stored and a point to make.

  Clothes removed, she clasped her hands in front of her and waited for his approval. He wasn’t ready to give it.

  He stared at her deliberately cold, hoping the pounding of his heart and the raw need he really felt for her didn’t show. “That’s not following directions. Is it? I said clothes off. All of them.”

  She gave him a small nod and released the back clasp of her bra, turned, and added it to the pile. His hand itched to run along her spine, to bend her to his command. To come inside her.

  She rose and slid her panties off next, placing them on the top of the stack. Then, she drew her shoulders back and turned to face him.

  Just as a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Fuck.” That was the last thing he wanted and the one thing guaranteed to break through to him. He might still be angry, might still not completely trust her, but he couldn’t treat her like this anymore.

  He exhaled a groan. “Get dressed.”

  She blinked, clearly startled by the opposing order. “What?”

  “I said, get dressed.”

  Her expression crumbled, and she turned away, pulling her clothes back on, her body shaking. Instead of releasing her from this painful scene, he’d obviously made things worse. He turned away while she dressed, gathering his emotions together. He didn’t know what he felt, needed, or wanted.

  He heard her sniffle, turned, and realized she was headed for the door. “Wait.”

  “I don’t see why. I get it. I screwed things up so badly you’re done. I have no intention of dragging things out or making a scene.”

  “That’s not what I said. Or want. I just need to wrap my head around everything.” And get over the fact that she’d left out a huge part of her life as he’d revealed all of his.

  “What do you want? Because other than apologizing, I’m not sure what more I can do.”

  She had a point. He didn’t know either. Looking at her made his heart hurt. If it came down to how he felt about her in the moment, no question. He wanted her in every way he could get her. But he wanted all of her, not the parts she chose to reveal.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”

  She turned to face him. “I bared myself to you. You might doubt that now, but it’s true. Just me revealing my body was like another woman exposing her soul. Same thing. So what you didn’t know? It had more to do with Brad than it did with me or you.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m going to go.”

  He wanted to stop her … but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe he just needed time. And clearly, she had no trouble giving it to him.

  SIXTEEN

  Amanda flew back to D.C. with Brad. She refused to discuss what had happened with Decklan, and after a while, her friend stopped pushing for answers. She knew he had his own issues with Keith, and he’d let her draw into herself.

  As soon as she got into the safety of her own apartment, she let herself fall apart. Sunday night, her phone rang nonstop. She didn’t answer the calls, not from Brad, not from people who’d seen the news of her almost-engagement, which had been picked up nationally, and not from her mother. Marilyn had heard the news that her daughter was about to become engaged to Senator Ritter’s son, the billionaire software guru, and decided her daughter was finally doing something right. She couldn’t be more delighted and left Amanda many messages to that effect. The only person who never called was Decklan. Amanda ignored all the calls in favor of staying in bed.

  She didn’t get up for work Monday morning either. In all the years Amanda worked for Brad, she’d only taken time off when she was sick or when he forced her on vacation. So she felt perfectly validated when she called this morn
ing and told him she wouldn’t be coming in. She couldn’t manage it. Couldn’t get herself out of bed or rid herself of the pounding headache or the pain in her heart. A pain with Decklan’s name engraved all over it.

  She punched her pillow and rolled over, just as her damned phone rang. Her heart skipped a beat, reminding her of a painful lesson. Hope was a brutal companion and always let her down.

  She glanced at her cell. It wasn’t Decklan, and though barely twenty-four hours had passed, she’d seen his blank expression. He wouldn’t be calling or texting her again.

  Unfortunately, her mother wasn’t giving up as easily.

  “Well, she can darn well leave another message,” Amanda muttered to herself.

  Amanda no longer sought her mother’s approval. She hadn’t in years, and these phone calls only served to remind her of yet something else in her life she could never get right. She wasn’t wallowing in pity, she was just facing some hard truths. Maybe she wasn’t at fault with her mother because Marilyn had such high expectations, but with Decklan?

  She had to own what she’d done. She’d kept something huge from him, a truth she should have admitted long before. And now he was left wondering just how they could build a relationship on a lie. And deciding they couldn’t. She didn’t blame him. She just wished she’d thought of things from his perspective earlier.

  At first, she’d had the honest excuse that she and Decklan had agreed neither one of them wanted a relationship. And once things had changed, she’d wanted to live in the moment. She’d convinced herself that nothing that was going on with Brad meant anything in the scheme of her real life with Decklan. Because it was easier not to deal with the issue, to tell Decklan the truth, or to push Brad to change the status quo. She’d been stupid and deluded. And even selfish. As she’d told him, being in a real relationship wasn’t something she had experience with. Neither was being in a functional family.

  But those were also excuses. She’d screwed up. And now she was paying the price.