by Zoey Marcel
Edna squirmed in her chair and chortled nervously. “So are you two back together for good?”
“We are,” said Ben.
Jill nodded.
“Are you going to make grandbabies? One of my children has to make grandbabies for me,” Edna told them.
Jill wrestled with what to say. They didn’t know about Pasadena or Coral, and only one of those girls was Ben’s.
“We already have kids,” Ben said nonchalantly as he ate his chowder.
Edna and Carl exchanged a look before she spoke. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I didn’t know until recently,” Ben explained.
Carl smirked like an asshat. “They aren’t his, are they?”
Again Jill didn’t know what to say.
“Of course they’re mine,” Ben replied.
“How do you know? I bet she was stripping for every surfer and gangster in Southern California, weren’t you?” Carl accused.
Ben wiped his mouth on his napkin, sounding irritated. “We already took a paternity test. Both kids are mine. Happy?”
Jill’s lips parted and warm liquid threatened to emerge from her lidded eyes. Ben knew that only Pasadena was his, but he still didn’t know who Coral’s real father was. He’d lied to protect her fragile image in his parents’ eyes.
She placed her hand on his thigh under the table and squeezed it lightly, trying not to cry.
Ben’s father put his hands up in the air and his eyes bugged out in annoyance. “Fine, whatever you say.”
“Why do you have to live so far away, Ben?” Mrs. Easton wanted to know.
Really? Hmm, I don’t know. Why don’t we all think about it for a second?
“You should live closer to your mother like Adam does,” Edna insisted.
“Mom, Adam lives in Arizona.”
“But it’s still closer to California than Wyoming.”
Carl donned his customary scowl again. “That little cock-lover keeps trying to get Milan to leave his prestigious job and become a dumbass sheriff in Winchester. Can you believe it? Milan’s not that stupid. Can you just see the two of them traipsing around the fucking desert together? Then again, maybe Milan should sit Adam down and show him how to fuck a woman.”
Edna appeared concerned. “I don’t want that nasty womanizer corrupting my sweet, innocent Adam. Ben, you have to talk Milan out of going.”
“It’s his decision, Mom, not mine.”
Carl rolled his eyes. “Save your breath, Edna. Ben made a mess of his life and you think he can help his successful brother run his?”
Jill let her fork clatter on her plate and gave the son of a bitch an icy stare of death. “Excuse me?”
Edna reached for Jill’s hand and gave it a good pat with her wrinkled, veiny one. “Now, dear, calm yourself. He didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, I did,” Carl argued. “Christ, it wasn’t an insult. Ben may be a screwup, but at least he hasn’t fucked up as bad as that half-assed excuse of a man you favor.”
“Adam is a fine, lovely man,” Edna countered. “He has my beautiful eyes.”
“Jesus,” Carl muttered into his beer glass. “The eyes are nice, but it takes more than pretty eyes to make a fucking man, which he ain’t.”
“Adam is a sweetheart and I’m proud of Ben,” Jill said boldly, feeling Ben’s eyes flicker over to her.
Carl rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s better to be Barney Fife in Mayberry than a queer musician in some mystical desert mining town.”
Jill slammed her fork back onto the plate and rose swiftly to her feet. “That’s it! I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Yes, Milan may be taller and have more money than either Ben or Adam, but who gives a crap? When all is said and done Milan is just a sticky penis and a used condom who will never know the meaning of love if he doesn’t pull his head out of his arrogant ass.”
Ben just stared at her, blinking in shock, but the light and humor in his brown eyes suggested approval and gratitude.
“Adam on the other hand is creative and touches people with his music, which carries a hell of a lot more weight in the long run. And Ben may not be the head of L.A. fucking P.D., but he’s touched my life deeper than anyone ever has or will. And I know our daughters will be better for having known him, too,” Jill spat. “And if you’re too much of a dick to see that then you can go fuck yourself, you…you big cocksucker!”
Carl gasped, appearing scandalized, and Edna looked shocked before she put her fingers to her lips, looking as though she stifled a giggle.
Jill would have sat back down, but the reality of her outburst started to sink in and she felt her cheeks flush. She hurried toward the door. She’d wait in the truck rather than suffer the weight of all the dumbfounded stares.
Carl Easton was a revolting jerk. Why the hell did Ben put up with him? He didn’t deserve to be humiliated, disrespected, and emasculated.
Tiny chills and prickles danced across her skin when it suddenly occurred to her why her submission and respect were so important to Ben. She wasn’t the only one with father issues. Hers provoked her to toughen up and refuse to surrender to keep from getting hurt. Her dad’s love had a limit and she didn’t ever want to see the day when she discovered Ben’s love for her had a countdown on it as well.
Ben apparently needed to be respected and feel like a man again. Could her submission do that for him? Was that why he needed it so badly? Probably in part, though the need seemed to run much deeper than that. Dominance came natural for him, and the need to control her seemed instinctual and second nature.
It infuriated her to see Ben treated that way, but then she cringed and her eyes welled up when she remembered the awful way she’d treated him earlier. He didn’t deserve that. All he’d asked for was a simple conversation for crying out loud. Hell, she could certainly give him that.
She didn’t know how far she could go with the whole submission thing and still maintain her sanity and status as an independent woman. But if Ben needed her submission and respect to feel like a man, she would give it to him.
Chapter Seven:
Consideration
Ben was quiet for most of the drive home. When they got inside the house he headed toward the stairs.
Jill kept glancing from him to the black box that still rested on the TV tray. What should she say to him? Exactly how did one go about something like this?
“Ben, what you did back there…saying all that stuff about my girls and the paternity test…thank you.”
He nodded without looking at her. “You’re welcome.”
“You look very handsome.”
He smiled, still not looking at her. “Thanks. You look really nice, too.”
“Thank you.” She got a sad, sinking feeling when he started to leave again.
“I appreciate you standing up for me like that in the restaurant,” he told her in a mellow, grateful tone. “It meant a lot.”
Just hearing him breach the overwhelming silence with his familiar voice got her attention and had her eagerly hanging on every word he said like a happy dog upon seeing the return of her master.
“I couldn’t stand hearing anyone talk about you that way. Why do you let him treat you like that? You deserve respect.”
His focus dropped, though his head remained poised in place as he drew into himself. “I get respect at work. That’s more than some men have.”
That stung like a bitch. Only at work? That had to change. He deserved so much more than this from her.
She saw his body shift as he turned to leave. “Ben.”
He stopped and calmly pivoted to face her, seeming tired and weary, though his patience persisted.
“Can you sit down…on the couch…please?” Why did she feel so uncomfortable talking to her own husband about their roles? It wasn’t like he’d burn all her jeans and then strip her naked and beat her while she made a cake for him the second she agreed to his throwback terms.
Ben came into the living room and sat on his
place on the couch without a word. Even in silence his presence still proved commanding, never once relinquishing control. He would fight her on this. She knew that. As long as they were married he’d never stop trying to take control of her, just as she would probably never quit resisting his attempts to subjugate her.
He sat there quietly with an attentive expression that betrayed none of his internal thoughts. The composed aura of natural strength and authority reminded her of Logan for a moment, and seeing the same card in Ben’s hand made it suddenly easier to give him what he wanted and respect him.
Jill swallowed down her pride and humbled herself into the most demeaning position her mind could conjure. She got down on her knees in front of him, positioning herself in offering between his slightly splayed thighs.
His countenance changed from one of acute curiosity to a dark mingling of lust and a stark thirst for power over her. The expression compelled everything primitive and female within her as equally as it triggered fear and uncertainty. No man should be allowed to have complete control over another person. The things he could do with it scared the hell out of her.
Reaching for the black box made her feel even more insecure, despite her unwavering resolve to do this for him. When she held it out for him and waited she felt everything feminist in her raging and cussing out her strange, conflicting desires.
He took the box from her and eyed her seriously. “You understand where I want to go with this, don’t you? This won’t just be bedroom play. I want a lifestyle relationship with you, Jill.”
Raw panic flooded her, and her brain released all sorts of chemicals that left her paralyzed and speechless for a long, agonizing moment.
“I know,” she whispered.
“What changed your mind?”
“I want to give you the respect you deserve and make you feel strong and masculine.”
That was half of it anyway, but there was another half. A wretched apprehension that this need that was so ingrained in him might lead him to a submissive without the emotional baggage that she had. She knew he’d never cheat on her, but she’d cheated on him in the past and had a child with another man. Only love kept Ben with her, but what if it ran out?
Jill knew she was hot, but her character sure fell short of Mother Theresa. What if this dark need of his one day eclipsed his love for her and he decided that it would be easier to find a submissive woman and learn to love again than it would be to stay with his wife and stifle something that was such an integral part of him?
She couldn’t let that happen. Nothing was worth losing him over or destroying their marriage over. She must do this.
His eyes softened, but his tone was mildly stern. “That’s sweet of you, Jill, but is that really something you can live with? I know you didn’t want it in our vows, but I’d expect you to obey me to the letter once you were fully trained. Can you do that?”
Maybe with a serious attitude. In bed, though, no problem. The idea of surrender in and out of the bedroom sounded hot, but definitely challenging. Hopefully it was one she could live with.
“I don’t know,” she quietly confessed. The silent flicker of disappointment in his eyes sent her into panic mode. “But I’m more than willing to try. Just…can we take it slow, please?”
He nodded and patted the couch. She stood and sat down next to him. He got down on one knee and opened the box, revealing a shimmering gold anklet.
“Oh, Ben,” she breathed in relief as much as she was in awe. “It’s beautiful. I was expecting something different, though.”
“A dog collar?”
“Well, kind of, or something else along those lines.”
He smiled, still holding the box in his hand without pulling the anklet out. “Not everyone does the Consideration Collar part of it, but some do. I wanted to because I figured you’d need an extra stage in the relationship. Tradition has it that the Collar of Consideration is typically some shade of blue, though not always. It can also just be jewelry, which I figured you’d appreciate more.”
Jill exhaled as a wave of sweet relief came over her. She hadn’t been aware that she’d quit breathing or of all the pent-up tension and concern she’d been clinging to until she let it all out. “That was very thoughtful of you. I appreciate it.”
Ben smiled like the loving husband he was instead of the power-hungry bastard she figured he’d become once she agreed to give his lifestyle wishes a try. “This isn’t training mode or anything, so don’t freak out. This is merely a learning period for both of us. We discuss our desires and concerns, our fears and expectations, along with any past baggage.”
Uh-oh, he wants to talk about things. That doesn’t sound good. There are some things I just can’t tell him.
“We might engage in some role play and kink in bed if you’re game for it, but mostly this is just a time for us to talk and get to know each other better,” he explained, making this terrifying plunge with him seem somehow normal and sane. “I printed out a list for us to go over together of hard and soft limits. I don’t want to do anything that’s going to frighten you.”
You mean like putting me in a fucking 1950s dress and make me your home girl?
“Before I put this on you is there anything you’d like to say or ask me?” he asked in what sounded like a genuinely caring tone.
Her frazzled mind translated it as Any last words before I enslave you?
It wasn’t a slave collar or a permanent arrangement, just a small token of affection to signify this leap of faith she was taking with him, or jump of suicide depending on how one looked at it. Learning period she could do, but talking didn’t come easy for her. Maybe they should just skip to Neanderthal training mode?
She extended her foot toward him and gave him a demure smile. “Okay.”
* * * *
“Ben, you freak, what the hell is this doing on here?” Jill demanded from across the table from him.
Ben leaned forward to see what had her panties in a bunch. “What?”
“Scat. Really, Ben? Really? You think I want to try that?” Her scandalized scowl was adorable.
“This is just a list I printed off. Some of the things on here I have no desire to try, particularly that one.”
“Well good, because I’m marking it as a big fat no.” She drew a line through it with a cute, aggressive look on her face.
“Jill, you’re just supposed to mark the box next to it, not scribble all over it.”
“And what about this one on the first page? Abrasion. Again I ask you, really? Do you think I want my skin to be sandpapered to death?”
He smiled and shook his head. “As I said this is a basic list, though you might have noticed I added a few things.”
“You mean like the line marked ‘Daddy’s biscuit-maker, nonnegotiable?’” she snapped with a raised brow and an annoyed half smile.
He grinned. “That’s right, babe. Is there anything on there you actually marked as a yes or a maybe?”
“Yeah, lots of things, but no lending me out to all your friends or making me strip in public or shave my head.”
“I have no intention of doing any of those things, especially that first one. And by the way, I asked if there was anything on there you liked.”
She scanned through the extensive list thoughtfully. “Well, I would be open to trying whipping if you really wanted me to, just as long as you don’t go all Indiana Jones on me. Oh, and no whipping, flogging, or caning the breasts. I paid good money for these babies, and I don’t want you fucking them up.”
He nodded and picked up the pages with a wicked little smile. “But I see you’re open to those things on other parts of your body.”
Her lips curved up into an indulgent smile. “As long as it’s not on the face, hands, feet, or breasts I’m fine with it. Oh, and beating my neck isn’t an option either.”
“I’m glad you marked breath play as a no,” Ben said. “I don’t have experience with that and I don’t want to practice on anyone, least of all
you. It’s too dangerous.”
“Yeah, I’d rather not die. Glad we’re on the same page.”
He shook his head and picked up the pen, changing one of her answers. “Take gun play off. We’re not playing with guns.”
“Well, I didn’t mean shoot at me during sex. I figured you’d unload it first, and I’d only do it if you made me.”
“Not happening. I believe in having the right to bear arms, but I don’t want weapons being used on you. I need you to be safe.” He met her adoring smile with one of his own before perusing the list again. He frowned and gave her a playful glare. “So you’d make love to a woman if I wanted you to, huh?”
“I don’t really want to, but if I was drunk and you found one that was pretty, but not prettier than me I might.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Not happening, babe. Triple penetration? Neil and I only have two cocks between us. Who were you figuring on the third dick?”
“Who said it had to be a cock? Dildos count.”
Ben wondered if that was a completely honest answer on her part, but he didn’t pursue it.
“This is kind of hot being chained to each other while we read.”
Jill looked young, giddy, and sweet as she beamed down at the metal cuffs that attached them together in an unbreakable bond. One cuff was locked onto her wrist and the other was secured around his.
“I thought you’d like that. This way you can’t run from me when you hear about all the wrong shit I’m going to do to you,” he teased.
“If you’re trying to scare me off it won’t work, sheriff. Most of this list is very sexy, with a few weird exceptions.”
“It looks like we’re on the same page for the most part. I’m going to pick out what you wear sometimes, Jill.”
She grimaced. “Fine, but if you throw out any of my clothes I’ll leave.”
Ben stiffened and glared at her despite the spike of fear her words induced. He kept his eyes pinned on her even when her head dropped and guilt swept over her face. “Look at me.”
