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Deposition and a Dare

Page 20

by Evelyn Adams


  “A couple of days, which got me thinking.” He stood, closing the distance between us, spinning my stool around to face him. “I don’t want you to see anyone else.” He gripped my hips, fitting himself between my legs and making me way too aware of my naked sex. “I want it to just be you and me.”

  The breath caught in my throat at the possibility that we might actually be feeling the same thing. That this thing between us might stop being a thing and start being the relationship I hadn’t let myself believe I wanted. It would make work a challenge. I didn’t know how I’d deal with it, but we could figure it out—set boundaries, sort through expectations, that kind of thing. I was willing to compromise to make things work. The love-wielding part of my psyche started dancing her way out of the closet I’d shoved her into.

  “I was thinking I could pay you to be your only client. Not long-term, of course. Just until we got each other out of our systems. I’m not a relationship person, and I don’t think you are either, but I’m not finished with you yet. I want more time.”

  He searched my face, waiting for my response as the meaning of his words finally penetrated my thick head. He wasn’t falling in love. He wasn’t falling in anything. He just wanted to fuck awhile longer, and he didn’t like to share. All perfectly reasonable things considering where we’d started. And he was willing to pay for the privilege of getting what he wanted.

  This man I loved—no sense lying about it now—who didn’t love me, this man who could own me body and soul with his touch, wanted to buy me.

  I felt my heart start to fracture and reorder itself to this new kind of normal, and then I gave him the only answer I could.

  “Mercy.”

  “YOU’RE IN EARLY,” SAID JARED, leaning against the doorframe to my office. “I didn’t expect you to come rolling in here until after nine, looking all rested and refreshed from your weekend sex-a-thon.” He crossed the office and dropped into one of the leather client chairs, pinning me with his prosecutor’s gaze. “You look like shit. What happened? Tell me you didn’t fuck things up with the doctor lady.”

  “Fuck off.” I didn’t want to talk about Alex. Hell, I didn’t want to think about Alex, not that it had done me any good. I hadn’t been able to think of anything else since she used her safe word and walked out of my house—out of my life. I’d finally given up and gone into the office to try to work my way through my feelings. It wasn’t helping.

  “Talk to me, man.” He leaned forward in the chair, concern etched on his face.

  “No. Not yet,” I added to soften my words. He cared about me. I appreciated that, even if I didn’t want to share what happened with Alex. I was ashamed, and I needed to hold onto those feelings on my own for a while longer.

  “You really like her.” His eyebrows hit his hairline, shock clear on his face.

  Like was an understatement. After she walked out my door, taking her light and laughter and leaving me behind, I realized my feelings for Alex were a lot stronger than like. I loved her and instead of telling her, I offered her money to let me fuck her. There was no way in hell I was coming back from that. If I were her, I wouldn’t talk to me again.

  I couldn’t imagine never talking to her again, never holding her. The sex was phenomenal. There weren’t enough words in my vocabulary to describe it, but it was my soul that ached for her. I’d spent the better part of a day and night trying to convince my stupid heart I’d survive her leaving. I knew now I wouldn’t. What I didn’t know was what the fuck to do about it.

  “It’s more than that, isn’t it?” Jared asked when I didn’t respond.

  I nodded, unwilling or unable to say the words. At this point, who the fuck cared? I was wrecked either way. I’d hurt Alex so badly she had to use her safe word to protect herself. From me. With a few careless words, I’d managed to do what I couldn’t do with a crop or flogger or whip.

  “You go after everything you want, and I’ve never seen you miss.” He held up his hand before I could protest. “Julie didn’t count. You didn’t really want her. You wanted what you thought she could be. That was never going to be the relationship you wanted it to be.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “It always is, man.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Jensen,” my assistant cut in on the intercom. “I’ve got an Elena Patrick on the line. She’s insisting she speak with you about a home tour.”

  I paused for a moment, the kernel of an idea forming. I couldn’t undo the damage I’d done, but maybe there was a way for me to avoid being an ass moving forward.

  “Find me if you want to talk,” Jared said on his way out the door.

  I nodded, grateful even though we both knew I had no intention of taking him up on his offer.

  “Put her through.”

  MONDAYS SUCKED UNDER the best of circumstances, but it wouldn’t matter what day of the week it was. Nothing felt right since I used my safe word and walked out of Erik’s house.

  I still couldn’t believe I let myself get in so deep. I knew better. And I couldn’t even get mad at him for the way he’d propositioned me because he was playing by the ground rules we’d established. I was the dumbass who’d gone and fallen in love, which meant his offer of money for time wasn’t a clean exchange anymore. It broke my heart. My stupid, over-involved, what the fuck was I thinking heart.

  I had no illusions about what happened next. I went back to my life, and he went back to his, the way we’d always planned to. I had no illusions of Jensen riding down the street, his head poking through the sunroof of his stretch limo, waiting to climb my fire escape to true love and happily ever after. This wasn’t Pretty Woman or some other Pygmalion knock-off.

  The thing that bugged me even more was that I had to remind myself that I didn’t need Jensen to save me. That had never been our thing. I was a woman in my full power. I had been before I met Jensen, and I would be again. It might take a fair bit of alcohol and a tear-soaked binge watch of the first two seasons of Outlander, but eventually I’d bounce back.

  I was going to start by sharing the pain au chocolat I’d picked up at the corner bakery with Charlotte and then I was going to find out how long it would take to get my life back to normal. And I was going to ignore like the queen of denial the fact that things would never be the same as they were. It was the classic fake it ’til you make it technique and I planned to work it like a rock star.

  “I come bearing gifts,” I said, rapping on Charlotte’s open door and holding the sack of pastries and the to-go cups of coffee out in front of me like the toll for entrance.

  “I love you. Get in here.” Charlotte snagged the bag of pastries and one of the cups of coffee from my hand, leaving me standing in the doorway in clear demonstration of her priorities. “You are a lifesaver. I haven’t had time for breakfast and I’m starving.”

  “I aim to please.” I collapsed on the sofa, taking a swallow of coffee and praying it didn’t take too long for the caffeine to kick in. Sleep had been hard to come by what with all the weeping and such. “You said you’ve got news?”

  “I do,” she said around a mouthful of pastry. “The movie company dropped the suit. It’s over.”

  “It’s over? What does it mean? How much do I have to pay them?” My chest tightened, not in anticipation, but I wasn’t going to look closer at my feelings. Denial. It’s a thing.

  “Nothing. I got them to agree to settle for a simple name change.”

  She looked so proud of herself. The last thing I wanted was to be ungrateful, but the idea of rebranding myself felt overwhelming. Exhausting.

  “You can’t do business as the Gentleman’s Submissive anymore, but the Gentlemen’s Submissive is just fine. One letter—a to e—and you’re done.”

  I couldn’t ignore the irony in going from singular to plural, not when that’s exactly what happened in my personal life.

  “This feels anticlimactic,” she said, licking the chocolate off her fingers. “I expected you to be more excited about this.”


  “I am. Honestly.” I reached over to touch her hand and snagged the bag with the pastry. I wasn’t going to be able to deal with the emotions threatening to swamp me without some serious help. Chocolate was a start, at least. “Thank you.”

  “Nu-uh.” She pinned me with her gaze and shook her head. “Something else is going on. It’s that attorney, isn’t it? Did he do something? He’s already on shaky ground with his firm. Say the word and I’ll make it shakier.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. Things with him just didn’t work out the way I thought they would.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, concern etched on her face. “What can I do?”

  It was the reason I hadn’t told her over the weekend. Charlotte was a fixer. It was her superpower. She’d want to help me fix things with Erik and when she realized she couldn’t, she’d try to convince me ending things was for the best. I wasn’t ready for any of that.

  “Nothing. It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but with fourteen or so hours of Scottish time travel and a fifth of whiskey, I’d be able to fake it. “What about you?” I asked, finally pulling out of my self-absorbed stupor enough to notice the smudges under her eyes she’d used very expensive concealer to try to hide. “Did you get things sorted with your old friend?”

  I swallowed on the word friend. One more thing that would be forever connected to Jensen, and I was going to have to call Elena and tell her the house fell through. Fuck.

  “Actually, yes. That case is settled too. Jack and his wife are reconciling. Turns out the partner set my client up to try to get controlling share of the company.” She ran a hand over her already smooth hair, her lips curving in an uncomfortable smile.

  “Are you okay? I know you really liked him.” It looked like both of us were nursing broken hearts.

  “A marriage is still intact. I have to be happy about that, right?”

  “On an intellectual level, yeah, but it can still suck too.”

  “It does.”

  We sat for a moment in mutual malaise, consoling ourselves with chocolate and coffee. It was an okay short-term fix but led to ass spreading problems long-term. We needed a better plan.

  “Let’s get everyone together for dinner and drinks, heavy on the drinks.”

  “I’d love that, but it has to be tomorrow. I’ve got a work thing tonight.”

  “Tomorrow then. I’ll set it up.” I had plans, things to do, reasons to move forward, even if it was just drinking with my girlfriends. Forward movement counted. “Call me if you need me.” I gave her hand a squeeze and stood, feeling better because I’d taken the focus off myself.

  “Same goes for you.”

  The good feeling lasted the length of the elevator ride. By the time I hit the muggy heat of the street, the sadness and sense of loss was back in full force. I thumbed open my phone and dialed Elena’s number. May as well get all the shitty things out of the way at once rather than spread out the misery.

  “Alex! I’m so glad you called.” She squealed through the other end of the line and I moved the phone a couple inches away from my ear to save what was left of my hearing. “I have so many things to tell you.”

  “I’ve got something to tell you too.”

  “Me first,” she said, practically gasping for breath. “I know you said you’d work things out with him...”

  “Elena, wait.”

  “But I couldn’t help myself,” she said, talking over my warning. “I just got off the phone with your Erik and he said yes!”

  “He said yes?” That couldn’t be right. She had to have misunderstood him. Jensen hadn’t wanted his house included on the tour. There was no way he’d say yes after everything that happened. “To the house tour?”

  “I think his exact words were ‘It would be my pleasure to do anything Alex asks of me.’ He said it in that deep voice of his. Kind of gave me butterflies.”

  I knew the voice. It was the one that washed over me like melted caramel. The one that ordered me to stay still and then set about trying to make me squirm. The one I never thought I’d hear again pitched low against my ear while its owner’s hands did delicious things to my body.

  I ended the call more confused than I’d been when I started the day. There was absolutely no good reason for Erik to say yes to the home tour and a dozen reasons for him to say no. Before I could twist my thoughts into too tight of a pretzel, my phone rang again. Peter’s number flashed on my screen and my stomach dropped so fast, I almost missed a step.

  “This is Lexi.” The old greeting felt awkward and wrong. It had only been a couple of weeks since I used it, but slipping into the old cadence felt like relearning a foreign language. “How can I help you, Peter?”

  “I was wondering if I could book another session. Things with Sarah went so well after last time. We’ve got an anniversary coming up and I want to blow her mind. There’s a book she’s been reading and I’m not sure how to do some of the things in it.”

  “I was actually on my way to the studio. I’ve got an unexpected opening in my schedule if you have time now?”

  “Fantastic.”

  The enthusiasm in his voice was an inverse proportion of my own feelings but that was just too damn bad. I had a business to resurrect.

  I WIPED MY hands on my slacks as I waited for the elevator to arrive. I figured I had one chance to fix my fuck-up—if that—and I had no intention of blowing it. I’d do whatever it took to get Alex back in my life, even if it meant finding a way to be comfortable with her work. I hadn’t worked out all the hows but I wasn’t conflicted about the what. I wanted Alex in my arms, in my bed, in my life, and I was willing to move heaven and earth to get it. I loved her. I’d tell her over and over again every day until she believed me and was ready to love me back.

  I hadn’t let myself consider that she might never get to that point. I was rolling forward full steam ahead with the failure is not an option plan. I was still nervous as shit, which was where the sweaty palms came in. I managed to push the elevator call button without leaving a sweat-streaked smudge behind as I rode to Alex’s studio. She wasn’t at her apartment and a surprisingly helpful Charlotte hadn’t known where she was but she mentioned removing the cease-and-desist, which meant there was every likelihood that Alex had gone back to work. That’s what I was banking on and since her phone went right to voicemail, it seemed like a safe bet.

  I planned to knock on the door and throw myself at her mercy for a change, and if she wasn’t there or if she was with a client, well then, I’d wait. The idea of her with someone else twisted something in my gut but she was worth it. I couldn’t love her and expect her to change who she was or give up what she’d built because it made me uncomfortable. I was man enough to deal with her work.

  I rapped on the door and waited, ready to prostrate myself at the first sign of her softening. I waited for so long; I’d almost given up by the time the door opened and she stood in front of me, wearing yoga pants and my Tulane shirt she’d taken with her when she left me. Seeing her in my clothes hit every one of my possessive buttons and then I noticed the red rims around her eyes and my heart broke all over again. She’d been crying, and it was my fucking fault.

  “Why are you here?” She squared her shoulders like she was steeling herself against something—against me—but she shifted her body just enough to let me enter.

  “First to tell you I’m sorry.” I’d worked out the order on the ride over. Apology first, then declaration of undying love.

  “For what? You were just doing what we agreed to,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She couldn’t be more unavailable to me if she was wrapped in chains and padlocked. But she wasn’t mostly naked with a client, so I’d take my wins where I could get them.

  “I made a mistake. I never should have made you that offer.”

  “I don’t understand. You just offered to extend what we were already doing.”

  This apology thing wasn’t going the way I’d pictured it. I looked at the s
et of her jaw and saw the whole thing heading south fast.

  “I love you. I should have told you right away instead of trying to get you to quit your business. I don’t know how to make any of this work out, but Alex, I want to try.”

  “What?” Her eyes were the size of saucers, but she’d relaxed her grip on herself, which had to be a positive sign.

  “The client thing. I’m not normally jealous. I’ll try to find a way to compartmentalize so I can deal with your work. You’ve built a business that’s important to you. It’s not fair for me to expect you to give it up.” I’d started out wanting to ruin her. It was kind of funny how things worked out sometimes.

  “I meant the other thing. The love thing.”

  “Oh,” I said, not bothering to try to hide my smile. “I love you like crazy. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms every night and wake up with you every morning. I understand if you’re not there yet. I can be patient.” It would be hard as hell, but even saying the words aloud eased the tension I’d been carrying in my chest the past couple of days. Alex was worth waiting for.

  “I love you too.”

  I didn’t give her a chance to take the words back or qualify them. I closed the distance between us in two strides and scooped her up in my arms, kissing her until the ache in my heart started to wane, replaced with something warmer. Hotter.

  I tunneled my hands into her hair, anchoring her in place for my mouth. She met me with a hunger of her own, her tongue finding mine, tasting and teasing as we breathed each other in.

  “We’ll figure out the work thing. I promise,” I said when I managed to break the kiss. I wanted to take her right there on the floor, to slide inside her and claim her, but I needed her to know I wouldn’t try to change her. That I loved her exactly the way she was—job and all.

  “I’m closing the Gentleman’s Submissive. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

 

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