“You know I will, Stephanie.” He stripped down to his dark gray trousers and joined me on the bed. “I’ll wipe that sadness from your eyes, pet.”
I gasped and looked up at him, my eyes wide with surprise. I thought I’d hid it, but now I knew I hadn’t. “Thank you, sir.”
“You can thank me later. Give me your hand.” He held his right one out, so I have him my right one. He tied that to a hook on the back of headboard and then tied the other one. By that time, he was straddling me.
He looked down at me with heat in his eyes and leaned down close to my ear. I felt his chest press into mine, through the thin silk of my nightgown, and my nipples responded. His lips brushed at my neck and then just below my ear. I couldn’t help it when I shivered with anticipation.
“You are so eager for my touch, Stephanie.”
“Always, sir,” I responded automatically, though it was the truth. I was always ready for him.
“Good girl. Now, help me roll you over.” He’d added hooks in strategic places on the back of the headboard. He could spread my arms wide, which usually meant I couldn’t move, or he could keep them close together and give me enough rope to turn and move around.
This time, I had just enough room to turn, but I’d have to cling to the headboard to stay up. I would also be forced to stay on my knees because relaxing onto my stomach would be too uncomfortable. Hmm, I thought, he wanted to distract me from my troubles. I wasn’t about to change his mind.
I turned with his help and soon found myself on my knees, my feet spread apart, and my back arched high to rest my head on the headboard.
“Such a lovely round ass, pet.” He moved up behind me and to the left a little. “It just needs a little color to make it prettier.”
His hand came down, fingers tight together, thumb tucked in, and so that when he slapped my ass it made more sound than sensation. The next slap he gave me was mainly with his fingers. That one had a little sting to it, and heat started to rise within me.
“Don’t tease me, Dylan,” I said, a moment of forgetfulness. Or was it?
I grinned when his fingers came down again, harder, on the other side of my bottom. “Don’t sass, pet.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” I wasn’t, especially when his hand came down harder, again, on the left side.
This time, the slap came with a warm palm to soothe the skin. He slid his hand around the red area that I knew must be there now, and the touch soothed the itch that came with the slap. I squirmed, the sting still not quite gone.
“Sir! I’m so sorry, I won’t sass you anymore.” It was only part of the game, and he knew it.
“Are you sure about that, my dear? I’m afraid I’ve had to tell you too many times now.” His voice was stern, and it sent a thrill straight through me.
His fingers dipped lower, down into the wet heat between me. Another slap, and this time I couldn’t hold back a moan of pleasure. My sadness was gone now. There was only Dylan and the desire he made me feel.
Dylan
I thought the sadness would be gone from her eyes when I came home earlier, but it was still there. If anything, it was worse. There was something defeated about the way her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. I still wanted to punch whoever it was that gave her that sadness, that took away some of the light of joy she always carried around with her.
Later, once I’d sent her into orbit more than a few times, I held her close to me. We were both still naked, and she breathed softly against me. I wanted to help her with whatever was wrong but wasn’t sure I could.
“You know, if you need my help, I’m here for you, right? All things aside, Stephanie, I will never let you hurt or be afraid, if I can help it.” I felt her tense in my arms, but I pulled her hips more tightly to mine and ran my left hand down her arm. “It’s okay, I’m not going to make you tell me anything, or try to make you talk, but I do want you to know that I am here for you.”
I paused, but she didn’t speak. I knew she was awake, though. I could feel it in the way she breathed, a little quick and tense.
“You don’t have to fight your battles alone. Not so long as you have me in your life.” I paused again, but she still didn’t answer.
I didn’t think she was going to respond at all and was about to roll away to give her some space when she turned in my arms. Her warm, pliant body melded to mine, and I heard her breath as she tried to control her emotions. The poor thing was tore all out of frame, and I wondered who she really was. Who could leave such a beautiful creature to fight her own battles like this?
I suspected she hadn’t come from the same kind of past that I had. There was nothing about her that screamed impoverished childhood or lack of education. She seemed similar to my adoptive mother’s younger female friends, well-spoken with an air about her that wasn’t exactly superiority but was definitely regal.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt while growing up. I’d found, in my experience, that a lot of these rich families saw their daughters as pawns, tools to showcase their own wealth and power. My adoptive parents obviously weren’t like that, but some of the people they knew had left me gaping with their lack of care for their children. The boys were meant to go out and carry on the family name while the girls were to marry and produce children for their respective husband’s family. It wasn’t something that I ever quite grew used to.
She didn’t cry now, or even speak, she just clung to me until she got her breath under control and had stopped trembling. I’d never seen her so shaken up, and while it made me feel good that she felt safe enough to show her vulnerability to me, it made me feel helpless. I didn’t know who I had to kill for causing this, or how to make it better for her.
We had started this whole thing as a business transaction, but now here we were, all these weeks later, and she was all but sobbing in my arms. I had to wonder if she was attacked, but surely, I’d see signs of that? I knew every inch of her skin, and there wasn’t a mark on it. Would all attacks leave marks? Or maybe something had been said to her verbally.
I didn’t know, and for the first time, I hated the fact that we were so afraid to tell each other our secrets. If we could just be open and honest with each other, I’d know who needed to die right now. I knew most of the fact that we kept things from each other was my fault. It was how I’d wanted this relationship to be. I hadn’t wanted a relationship, and I’d built these walls around us both, but the problem was, there was always a price to pay when you tried to cut yourself off from others.
Was this love? The need to protect, to make her smile again? Was that what love did to you? I didn’t know. I knew about loving my parents, the people who took me in and gave me a real childhood and the real parents who had nearly destroyed me. I knew about loving a puppy or a kitten, pets. I didn’t know a damned thing about romantic love.
Something that I wanted to smother with a pillow, deep inside of me, kept telling me she was the one, but I’d never wanted the one. I’d just wanted a pet to play with. She was that, but she was so much more than that. I’d tried to deny it for a long time, and even now, I tried to find reasons, any reasons, why this couldn’t be love.
It was infatuation, which had to be what it was. It would pass eventually, right? I kept waiting for it to start to pass, this fascination with her, this need to be with her, but that wasn't what happened. Instead, it just kept getting stronger.
It was kind of scary, but I thought I could control it. I was starting to suspect I might be wrong. I wasn’t a man who would deny himself, though, so if it happened, it happened. If this was love, then I guessed I had to get used to it because I knew one thing for sure. I didn’t want to give her up. Not for anyone.
Her breath started to even out again, and I heard a soft snore at one point. When her body completely relaxed and she rolled away from me, I got out of bed, put my robe on, and headed to me office. I had new medicines I’d picked up at the pharmacy earlier. I wanted to do some reading about them.
I neede
d to know what the side effects were, how often I was supposed to take them, and what the benefits were supposed to be. I wasn’t big on taking drugs, but I wanted to be around for a while longer, so if that was what it took, then I’d do it. You want to be around for Stephanie, a little voice said in the back of my mind.
I couldn’t deny that part, at all. She made me want to live life to the fullest. That trip to the island and the one down to New Orleans had shown me that. I wanted to show her the places she’d never been, and I wanted to experience that joy with her. I wanted to experience life with her. If that meant taking medication, so be it.
I read the dosages and saw that it was time to take one of them. There were three new bottles. He wanted me to stop taking the one I was on and take these new ones instead. I took a deep breath and took the pill. The other two I had to take in the mornings.
I spent an hour or so researching each medicine and decided that the benefits outweighed the risks. It would keep me going, this new stuff. I hoped. I glanced at the door to my office. Stephanie needed me to be around. She’d said it herself, she’d never had anyone care about her, hug her, as I had the last couple of days.
Maybe it was time to let my guard down with her. I still wanted the contract, because I needed that wall between us, love or not. I needed to keep that distance there. I thought I was past the panic stage, where I just wanted to deny it completely and block her out, but I wasn't anywhere near the wedding bells and baby rooms stage. I needed to keep a level head, at all times.
I had the family business and my own side projects to think of. There were countless people depending on me to keep the businesses going. I had to protect that empire too. I couldn’t make a rash mistake because I’d fallen for somebody. I had a lot of people depending on me to take care of myself and my actions.
Sometimes, times I wouldn’t admit too very often, I wished I’d been given a different life. A normal one where my parents weren’t the people they were, and that I’d had siblings. I’d have become a mechanic or maybe I would have become a business tycoon anyway, I was good at it, but I wouldn’t have this constant pressure to be perfect, to be on top, always. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so afraid of what it meant when I looked at Stephanie and my heart skipped a beat.
I pushed away from my desk with that thought. That was just a little too sappy, even for me, and I laughed softly at myself.
I glanced at the clock and saw it was late, or I’d have called my mom. She was probably up with my dad anyway, but I didn’t want to disturb them. Late night calls were always stressful, even if the other person only wanted to talk. I’d leave it for another day then.
I pulled a stack of papers from my desk drawer and went through them. I found the ones I wanted, full of red ink and black writing, and read over it all again. I opened the file on my computer and began to make the edits I’d made on the paper copy. This would be our contract. I wanted her to read it first, before she said yes or no, because this wasn’t the contract that I’d given her all those weeks ago.
This was something much different. It was a letter of love, in a sense. It held promises for the future, if our relationship lasted longer than six months, and it was an agreement that we’d try to be a little more open with each other. There were rules, of course, but nothing she hadn’t already agreed to, and there were concessions if we wanted to change something in the contract.
Basically, it was me admitting that a contract wasn’t exactly what we needed at this point in time. I’d started to see that happiness was within reach. I had it now, but I could have it for a lot longer, if I gave in to her way of thinking, just a little bit.
My past stood between us; I was big enough to admit that. She’d gone along with it because she had secrets of her own, but I knew she wanted that to end. She wanted to let go and tell me the things that bothered her, but she wasn’t sure she should because I held her at arm’s length in so many ways.
I’d have to trust Stephanie, and I wasn’t sure I could. Not because she wasn’t worthy, but because I’d always found that the hardest thing to do in life. If anybody deserved loyalty and trust, it was Stephanie. Something always held me back.
The image of my mother’s face flashed in my mind, my real mother’s, that night that she tried to erase us all from the world. She’d looked insane … she’d looked like she loved me. Then she’d poured gasoline all over my carpet to kill me. It was pretty hard to trust anyone after that. I didn’t think there was a person alive who could think it would be easy to trust after your own mother tried to kill you.
Stephanie’s face had started to replace that faded memory, and that, more than anything, told me she was special. It wasn’t just the sex, or that she let me spank her when I got the urge; she cared for me. I could see it in the way she talked to me, the way she made me forget my troubles, the way she tried so hard to give me everything I needed.
She’d even bought me jewelry. Not as a show of wealth or as a silly token, but to show me I mattered. I stared down at the ring on my middle finger, where it had been since the day she gave it to me. It had become part of my identity, that token of affection.
I’d been surprised when she gave it to me, a little shocked even. I’d never worn jewelry because I’d never been given any, and it never really occurred to me to go out and buy some for myself. It just wasn’t something I’d ever wanted.
Stephanie’s ring, the necklace, and the cufflinks, were special. Just like her.
I printed out the final version of the contract I wanted her to sign and put it back in my desk drawer. I’d take it out on the day our current agreement was up and give it to her. This one should make her happy.
I knew she’d avoided the matter and had changed the subject more than once, but this one was different. I thought she’d see the main promise in the whole thing, if she would just sit down and read it all. This wasn’t a business contract. It was a promise that I’d try.
I knew it was probably stupid to offer her so much when I didn’t know what my future held. I might not have many years left to give her, but right now, everything in me said I wanted to spend those years with her. I’d do my part, see my doctor, take the medicine, do whatever I could to hold off the inevitable, but I’d try. That was all I could do.
Now, I just had to get her to sit down and read it without getting angry and storming off. I could understand her viewpoint; she’d explained herself pretty well that night she’d walked out on me. I’d had a hard time admitting it then, but now, I could see. Stephanie was lonely, and with me she’d found a measure of happiness. She wasn’t so lonely anymore. She didn’t want to give that up, and the contract was a threat to that happiness, she thought.
This one wasn’t. It was a concession, and a hope that we could get to a different level together. I couldn’t make too many promises, but I could start out small. I’d offer her a relationship and in a few months, we’d re-examine where we were. If things were going well, and if we wanted to make changes, we would. That was as much as I could offer. Anything else might be a lie.
Emily
We had one more day together, and then I suspected my fine Mr. Dark would emerge with a dreaded contract for me to sign. I wasn’t so sure now, he’d changed in the last couple of weeks, but I had a feeling he had something up his sleeve. I’d seen him working on something, more than once.
He’d always put it away before I could see exactly what it was, and that was what made me suspicious. He didn’t want me to see what he was working on because he didn’t want to upset me. The thing was, right now, I’d take whatever he had to offer.
After breakfast that morning, Dylan went off to do some things he needed to do, and I went back home. I did some dusting, took care of the mail, and looked around the place. I had projects I hadn’t worked on sitting out on the kitchen table, and there were clothes in the dryer that needed to be ironed now if I ever wanted to wear them in public.
I was glad I hadn’t bought any potted plants; the po
or things would have died from neglect by now. I spent far more time at Dylan’s than I did here now. It was here that I could finally sit and listen to Ember’s new song without fear of being caught. Not that Dylan would ask me to explain listening to a pop star sing, but it would make me feel funny.
I kicked off my Louboutin heels and settled on the couch. I started my laptop and clicked icons until I was on the video for Ember’s song. The official video wasn’t out yet, but the record label had released the song. I knew her story, her real story, better than the public did. She’d had a rough life, a very rough life, and had been given the unfortunate name of Bridget, when her father’s last name was Jones.
When she’d met my brother, she’d been using a name that she had decided to use as her stage name: Ember. It was how most of us knew her, but I’d heard my brother, her husband, affectionately call her Bridge more than once. It was their thing, so I’d left it alone.
Her song was beautiful. Like most of her music, it reached right into my soul and bared the things I hid even from myself. Things like how much I missed my family, the babies, and my sisters-in-law. I’d wanted some space of my own when I’d walked away all of those months ago. I’d wanted to have my own identity.
Somehow, that had turned into me being banished from the family entirely. I wasn’t sure how, or why, but it had happened. I was the one, as always, left to pick up the pieces. I was sure Jessi had probably made Trent's life hell since he’d made that decision, but then, I remembered that she’d forgotten my birthday too. That might be the one that hurt the most.
We’d been so close, up until my brother finally realized he loved her. Then he’d become her world. The babies came along, and well, I’d become an unpaid babysitter, the family nanny. She wasn’t a snob now, it wasn’t that, it was just that she was consumed by her love for my brother and the family they’d made together. I couldn’t really blame her for that, even if it did hurt to be left behind.
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