In the ceremonial hall, his eyes were light brown, but in this light they appear brown with flecks of green. His brown hair is still slicked back but she sees evidence that he has run his hands through it since they stood in the circle together.
Finding him smiling at her has an unexpected effect on her body. The shivers that she felt when he touched her hand to help her stand and when his hand found its way to the small of her back are small compared to the body shivers she gets looking into his eyes now.
He leans forward, resting his hands on his knees. He is close enough to touch her dress if he extended his fingers. She keeps staring into his eyes, becoming lost for the first time in her entire life.
A blush infuses her cheeks as Zara rips her eyes from his and returns them to her dress. Taking a steadying breath, she allows her eyes to take the journey once more up his body to his face. As she reaches his smile, the plane lifts off the ground and with a gasp, Zara grips the seat’s armrests.
“Zara, breathe. Little One, this is the beginning of a wonderful adventure for you. I told you in the Circle that I am going to take care of you, and that includes ensuring that you arrive at our destination safely.”
The further the plane gets off the ground, the tighter Zara’s hold becomes. Thoughts of her mother’s extreme fear of flying flood Zara’s mind.
Calmly, he begins to speak at a volume she has to strain to hear.
“John. John Garrett.”
The brilliant smile that spreads across his face makes Zara instantly forget the fact that she could crash to the ground and die at any second. The smile is not the tight-lipped one he flashed at her earlier. It is a smile that would make his cheeks hurt if it went on too long. It is a smile that Zara feels all the way to her toes.
“If the ceremony would have been completed tonight, you would be wearing my collar. I would be your Dom. Your husband. But you are not wearing my collar. Therefore, the tradition of calling me Dom or Sir does not fit our situation. My name is John Garrett Dawson. In the world, I am known as John but my family and very close friends all call me Garrett. I would like you to call me Garrett.”
Focusing on the crystals in the skirt of her dress, Zara gives the slightest nod.
“Little One, I would like you to look at me. You have beautiful eyes and I would like to spend some time looking in them. Please.”
Wide-eyed, Zara looks in his eyes. Tilting his head, he watches her eyes move from his eyes to his lips. Zara blushes again as she sees his knowing smile spread wider across his face. Not wanting to disappoint him, she locks onto his stare.
“That is so much better. We need to–”
A loud bell interrupts his sentence and startles Zara. Looking around, it hits her again that she is in an airplane. Once more, panic hits and Zara white knuckles the arms of her seat.
Garrett unbuckles his seatbelt and moves to the seat next to her, speaking softly. “That is the all clear sound from the pilot. No need to worry. It notifies us that we are able to move around the plane.”
Lifting his hand to cover hers, he gently works to loosen her grip on the arms of the seat. “Zara, I need for you to trust me. I take your safety very seriously and I would not put you in any danger. I have flown hundreds of times and have never had one problem. Please, trust me.”
He releases her hand to unbuckle her seatbelt. Standing, he extends his hand and waits for Zara to accept it. Hesitantly, she slides her hand into his and allows him to assist her up. Trembling, she cautiously steps to the back of the plane.
He opens the door to reveal a full-sized bedroom. Walking through the threshold, he gently tugs Zara inside. The trembling becomes full-body shaking. With eyes the size of saucers, Zara stares at the bed.
“Zara, take a deep breath,” he says with a firmness that she had not yet experienced. “Do. It. Now.”
Looking at the ground directly in front of her, Zara takes a deep breath. The command re-centers her, bringing back all the years of training. Two more deep breaths and Zara feels a calm settle inside.
“Yes, breathe, Little One. No need to worry, this is not our time,” he says in a much softer tone.
Taking Zara’s other hand into his, he watches as she again attempts a deep breath. With her hands squeezed lightly, Zara looks up to find warmth in his eyes.
A small smile crosses his face as his eyes slowly travel the length of her body. Casually, his eyes rejoin hers and Zara feels a new type of heat come up from her belly to spread over her entire body. A tremble reveals the calm she felt a moment ago has been replaced with an entirely different nervousness.
“Although you look lovely, I would like for you to get out of this dress,” he states while maintaining the hold on both of Zara’s hands as she tries to pull away.
“Through that door is a bathroom with a shower. I am sorry there is no bathtub. I would very much like for you to take a relaxing shower. You will find an outfit has been placed in the bottom drawer of the cabinet for you. I will be out on the couch if you need anything. If you wish to lie down following your shower, please do so. I will wake you before we land so that I can get you safely buckled. If you would rather come back out and talk, that is fine too.”
As he finishes speaking, he releases her hands and walks toward the door. He begins to close the door and pauses.
“I am very glad you decided to come with me tonight.”
Then he shuts the door… leaving her alone. Zara sits on one of the two chairs facing the bed, her mind racing.
What have I done? What is going to happen to me?
She touches her neck.
No collar.
Her entire life had been in preparation for this night. There was never a question as to what her life would hold. Zara was to be a collared married woman tonight.
As her hands return to her lap, she contemplates how her father intended to hand her over to the Dom whom he and the King Council had selected to be her mate. Zara’s responsibility, her only expected contribution, was to produce the next line to ensure the continuation of the community. Every hour of preparation, all the years of training, now seemed useless.
Once again, uncertainty and self-doubt find their way into Zara’s thoughts. Questions begin bouncing around inside her head.
Why didn’t he want to complete the Ceremony and become my Dom? Why is he taking me to college? Where will I live? Will I be able to do this?
Tears gather in her eyes for the second time tonight.
A knock on the door brings Zara back. Unable to push anything out of her mouth that resembled words, she sits in silence staring at the door.
“Zara?”
Opening the door, Garrett finds Zara sitting in the chair looking at him. He takes two steps and kneels in front of her. The brilliant smile falters as he stares at her and sees a tear escape from each eye. Ashamed, she lowers her gaze but she feels his thumbs brush her eyelashes as he wipes them away. Sliding his hands on top of hers and gently forcing them apart, he moves his thumbs slowly over the tops of hers.
“Little One, I know there is a lot going on inside your brain right now. I am confident you have questions about your future, and I want to help you by answering anything I can. We will discuss everything, but first I want you out of your pretty dress. I want you to shower and change into some comfortable clothes.”
The motion over Zara’s skin soothes her in a way that disrupts her balance. She starts to pull her hands from his but he tightens his hold.
“No, Little One, don’t pull away. Allow me to comfort you. Allow me to show you that everything will work out.”
“Thank you.” Zara finds her voice.
With a quick nod, Garrett stands in front of her and takes a step back. “You have twenty minutes to shower and join me on the couch.”
Standing, Zara finds her balance and walks to the bathroom without hesitation in her stride.
Wow!
An overwhelming smell of roses conjoins with the beauty of the room and accosts Zara�
��s senses. Standing just inside the doorway, she takes a moment to admire it. Behind the curve of glass doors, she sees shelves have been stocked with products. A glass sink with a cabinet below is right next to the shower. A small table with several small drawers stands to the right of the sink and hosts a glass vase brimming with elegant white roses.
Remembering her instructions, Zara begins unbuttoning each of the little buttons along the side of her dress. Taking a deep breath, she bends over in relief when the last button is undone. Her fingers brush over the area that has just been freed and feel indentions in her skin. Fighting the layers of the skirt, Zara slowly lifts it over her head and carefully hangs it by its hidden loops on the inside of the bodice.
Closing her eyes, Zara bunches up her toes in relief after removing her shoes. She slowly slides her bra off and works her panties down her legs. Naked, she reaches into the shower and turns it on to warm up. Closing the door, she steps in front of the mirror above the sink.
She quickly removes the hairpins that have held her hair in place since early afternoon. Zara runs her fingers through the heavily sprayed hair to do a final check for hairpins. She pauses to take in the moment. As her hair cascades down her back, her eyes rest on her bare neck.
No collar.
Remembering the time limit for her use of the bathroom, she opens the shower door and steps inside. The spray of warm water on her skin sends the tension gripping Zara’s shoulders down the drain with the water.
Once Zara’s hair becomes saturated, she reaches for the products on the shelf. With surprised delight, she reaches for the same brand of shampoo she uses at home. Her smile wilts as she remembers that was her parents’ home and no longer a place for her to call home.
Closing her eyes, Zara begins lathering shampoo into her hair. Rinsing the suds from her hair, she grabs the conditioner, shaking her head in wonder at the fact that both the shampoo and conditioner are the same brands she favors. The smell of peppermint and roses engulfs her as she rinses the conditioner out of her hair and soaps her body. With a final quick rinse, Zara turns off the shower and wraps herself in a warm, fluffy towel.
Stepping to the table of roses she opens a drawer and finds a toothbrush, toothpaste and dental floss. In the next drawer, Zara finds a comb designed for long wet hair. Beside the comb, she finds the leave-in conditioner her mother always instructed her to use.
Curiously, she picks up the toothbrush and toothpaste. Like the Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Soap, both are brands she uses. She lays them on the edge of the sink. Bending to open the bottom drawer, she covers her mouth to silence the gasp. Zara pulls out her favorite pink fleece pullover and her old black yoga pants. Squeezing her eyes tight, she hugs them to her towel-covered chest.
After a couple deep breaths, Zara reaches for the other items in the cabinet. She discovers her pink bra and matching panties, her warm fuzzy socks and her old pink running shoes. Excitement courses through her as she dresses.
Finishing with the toothbrush, Zara places it into a travel holder also found in the drawer and returns it and the toothpaste to the first drawer. With a last hug of appreciation of being dressed in her own clothes, Zara neatly hangs the wet towel, grabs her comb and leave-in conditioner and heads back to the bedroom.
On the nightstand, Zara notices a large bottle of water covered with condensation. Drawing near, she sees raspberries at the bottom and a slice of lemon near the top. She removes the cap and relishes the cold fruit-infused water. Taking three long pulls, she returns the bottle to the nightstand.
Unsure of the time, she works the comb through her hair as fast as possible and walks to the closed door leading to the main room of the plane. As she reaches for the door handle, she pauses.
I am on an airplane.
Smiling to herself and grabbing the door handle, she has intense feeling that she has forgotten something. Shaking her head, she opens the door.
Zara sees him sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand. He looks up slowly, letting his eyes wander down Zara’s body, nodding once as his eyes spy her feet in tennis shoes.
She closes the door behind her and he smiles.
“Ah. Much better. Am I correct?”
The corners of her mouth turn upward and her eyes stay fixed on his lips.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Garrett,” he corrects her with a hint of persuasion in his voice. “Come and sit with me.”
Taking the last four steps more confidently in her sneakers than in the heels she was wearing before her shower, she lowers herself onto the couch a couple of cushions down from Garrett. Gathering her damp hair in both hands, she releases it in the middle of her back.
“Here. You might need this.”
Looking at his extended hand, Zara gasps when she sees her pink and green polka dot hair tie. Slowly reaching for the hair tie, tears well up in Zara’s eyes.
“I… I thought I would never see this…” The words had come out more of a whisper as if speaking to herself.
“Garrett. Zara, I would like for you to call me Garrett.” Reaching behind him, he pulled a tissue from a box and raised it to her cheek. “Say it for me, Zara.”
Swallowing at the gentle touch of the tissue, Zara’s eyes remain fixed on her hair tie now crumpled in her hands.
Quietly with the first hint of the southern accent from her home, Zara whispers, “Garrett.”
“I would have never known you are from the South until you said my name. Yes, I would like you to call me Garrett and say it often.” Not pausing to make mention of the blush spreading over Zara’s face and neck, Garrett continues. “Our traditions have their place and some would never think to break them, but removing all of your previous belongings once you became my sub was one that I felt comfortable bending. Also, we did not complete the ceremony, therefore you do not belong to me.”
The cascade of tears down Zara’s cheeks has not slowed and Garrett pulls out a few more tissues to hand to her.
“Easy, Little One.”
Taking the hair tie from her clenched grasp, he works to gather all of her loose tendrils in his hands and wrap the band around her hair.
Zara is frozen during the entire process. She knows that pulling away is not an option and maintains her position holding her breath.
“Breathe, Zara, breathe,” he says, finishing his task. Garrett leans back against the couch to admire his job. “Not as good as you would do, but all the hair is up. I wish you had dried it. I don’t want you to get sick.”
Zara finds her voice again and manages a soft thank you. Wanting to look into Garrett’s eyes again, Zara wipes the last of her tears and finds him looking at her. He begins to speak, only to be interrupted by the door opening at the opposite end of the plane sending Zara’s eyes back to her lap.
Hearing the sound of someone coming, Zara braces for what will happen next; the unknown making every part of this journey scary. As the woman draws closer, Garrett leans into Zara to murmur, “Little One, please breathe for me.”
Zara releases the breath she does not realize she is holding. The woman stops on the other side of the coffee table. She places two small napkins in front of each of them and places filled glasses on the napkins. She adds two plates and two sets of utensils wrapped in napkins.
“Mr. Dawson, will there be anything else for now?”
“No, Felicity, thank you.”
Without another word, the woman pivots and walks back toward the door leaving Garrett and Zara to pick up where they left off.
Lifting the covers off the dishes, Garrett hands Zara a plate then picks up his and sits back against the couch.
“I chose sandwiches. I didn’t know if you would decide to come with me or how each of us would feel. I hope that’s alright with you.”
Shocked, Zara whips her head to look at him and then down at her plate. She tries to process the words that have just been spoken. In her entire life, no one had ever hoped that something was ‘alright with her’ and she struggles to
wrap her mind around it.
Almost done with half of his sandwich, Garrett places the sandwich on the plate and looks at Zara. Feeling his eyes on her, she carefully picks up half of her sandwich and begins to eat, only then realizing how hungry she is.
With her sandwich consumed, the exhaustion of the day falls upon Zara like a blanket. She can barely focus on Garrett’s description of the college she will soon be attending. As hard as she tries to stay awake, Zara feels herself drift away from the last minutes of her eighteenth birthday.
Chapter 4
Zara blinks awake. She has no memory of disembarking the plane, driving to this house or getting into this bed, and a sense of panic begins to take hold. On the nightstand, a note sits with her name on the front. Tentatively, Zara brings the paper closer, nearly under the comforter, to read.
Your coffee is waiting for you in the kitchen. Garrett.
Zara eases out from under the covers finding comfort in Garrett’s words. The sound of waves catches her attention. Rolling over, Zara’s mouth drops open upon discovering a wall of glass revealing a brilliant blue sky. Zara gazes around the room realizing the room was designed to accentuate the view. The walls and furniture were done in soft white while the accents were the color of the sky. The art on the walls tied everything together with seascapes.
Zara heads to the balcony and pushes the glass wall open a smidgen. She steps out and finds the smell meets her head-on. Thoughts of the day’s first cup of coffee are replaced by the glory of the view. With her hands on the rails, Zara leans into the smell and sounds radiating from the largest body of water she has ever seen. The sounds of waves washing over the sandy beach makes her smile stretch further across her face.
This is what he smells like. Lovely.
Before Him Comes Me Page 3
