by Mia Downing
Such a hard question. “Yes,” she said on a sob.
“Oh, Megan.” He sighed, his lips dipping to her forehead, sounding sad, tired. “Why is it so bad?”
“Because someday, you’ll leave. You’ll see who I really am. You like this part of me that I didn’t know I had. But there are other parts…” She sucked in her breath, inhaling a few tears on the way. “I’m damaged, Adam. Someday you’ll see the damage. You’ll see the real me. And then you’ll leave.”
Adam smoothed the locks of her hair under his chin. He knew how hard it was for her to admit that she was a submissive, that she wanted him to control her had to be—she still shook in his arms, terrified of the control, the power she’d given him with her admission, not only in his bed but over her life.
Yet he knew this was an important step, a good step in the right direction. She couldn’t be his if she didn’t acknowledge that she might lose him. “Is this because of the gossip Peg spreads?”
“Part of it.”
That made sense—she thought he was a player. The whole office did, and it never bothered him before, until now. What was the term they used on that TV show? Man whore. “And you feel you don’t deserve me because you’re damaged.”
She nodded. “I want to go back to the beginning. I want to have never seduced you. It hurts too much.”
He closed his eyes to the pain in her voice and held her closer. If only she knew how her pain echoed in him, the same fears realized. “Do you want to know how many women I’ve slept with?”
“No.”
“Two.”
She stiffened. “You’re lying.”
“Didn’t I tell you that you wouldn’t be happy with the answer? You are number two. I’m not a player, Megan.”
“Who was number one?” She sniffed from under his arm.
“My wife.”
She struggled in his arms, and he clamped down harder around her torso.
“Shh. I’m not married, not anymore. I wouldn’t do that to you. Christ, give me some credit.” She rolled in his arms to stare up at him, and he dropped a quick kiss to her lips. Then he lay back on the bed, cradling her to his side, steeling himself against the pain he knew would follow.
“Melissa died in the same crash that took my dad and left my mom in the condition she’s in today. They were on the way to the restaurant to celebrate…something…damn, I don’t even know what anymore.” He shrugged away the pain, the memory of sitting alone at the table with a glass of wine, waiting, so damned happy until the phone call came and ended his world. “A drunk driver hit them head on.”
“I’m sorry.”
He ran his hand along her breast. “We were high school sweethearts, and then we went on to the same college. She’s the one who introduced me to being a Dom—one of her friends in college had talked about it, and she wanted to try. I wasn’t so sure, but she knew what she wanted, and I think she did a good job teaching me the ropes.”
“How can you talk about her like that? So…I dunno. Matter-of-fact.”
“I don’t feel matter-of-fact, if that helps. I expected to die first, in my sleep as an old man. I never thought I’d lose her.” Oh, if Megan only knew the pain he felt. “It’s been two years, and it still hurts, losing her. Them. You think you’re the only one with pain? With demons?” He laughed bitterly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be selfish.”
“Megan, there isn’t a selfish bone in your body. But I’ll tell you, life sucks, and it’s full of changes that hurt like a kick to the balls.” He kissed her forehead. “But sometimes, change can be good. Meeting you has helped me move on to a saner place in my life, one where I can be at peace. I’m not afraid to move on now. Making love to you has made my life even more complete. I love you, Megan.”
“You don’t love me.”
She shook her head and Adam sighed. There was no accusation in her voice, only doubt and pain. He stared down at her tear-stained face, loving every inch, every pore, every cell of her. If only she knew how much more he could love her. It took his breath away to realize it’d only been a weekend and he was this deep into her. How would he feel in a month? A year? A decade?
Adam shook his head—there was no way to convince her—she was that sure in her doubt. So instead he said, “I was ready to release some of the demons when you kissed me under the mistletoe. I could have said no right then and there. I could have walked away, but your offer was too much to deny. Too sweet. If I had known you only wanted me for sex at that point, I would have said no.”
Megan died a little inside as Adam’s eyes flashed full of pain, of regret. Suddenly her plan for seduction seemed shallow. She had used him for her own gain and hurt him in the process. She was no better than Mark.
“You were supposed to be a man whore. You were supposed to teach me how to have sex, and then leave.” The tears brimmed in her eyes, and she wiped them away. “You weren’t supposed to want me, damn it. You weren’t supposed to fall in love.”
“But I did, and now I’m screwed.” He untangled himself from her arms and rose from the bed, magnificent in his nakedness, his skin still glowing from their exertion. “And if you don’t realize what you need to do, we’re both screwed.”
“But I surrendered to you. I gave you what you wanted.” She didn’t understand what he wanted from her, what he needed. He stalked from the room and returned with their clothes, his emotions schooled again behind his court face. His Dom face.
“Yes, you submitted—sexually—only because the need was too much.”
“Then tell me what to do.” It was humbling to need him to tell her what to do, even when he was so angry, so resentful. His eyes went to her lips, the curve of her thigh, and then he dismissed her, his gaze turning away, the steel behind them hard, his lips firm.
“You’re going to have to admit you’re good enough for me, that you deserve what we share together, and stop being the victim. You’re letting that bastard win. Every time you tell yourself that it won’t work, that you’re damaged, that you can’t be who you are, he wins. Right now, he owns you more than I do.”
“That’s not fair!”
“You’re damned right, it’s not fair.” Anger showed in his movements—the way he dumped their clothes in a pile, on the bed, at her feet, the way he wrenched his shirt free and yanked it on.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” she whispered, pulling her shirt to her chest.
He didn’t say anything as he finished dressing. Then he ran his hand through his dark hair and said softly, “I have to be in court the rest of the week, and I need to be focused. Take that time to think about the leap you need to take, and I’m not talking sexually. You did that. Sexually, you are all mine. I’m talking mentally.” He tapped his temple with his finger. “Are you ready to take the chance? Are you ready to be mine? Because I’m ready. I love you, but I’m not sharing you with him.”
Chapter Nine
Megan pulled herself out of bed Wednesday morning and mechanically went to the shower without even glancing in the mirror. Her tear-stained face was not something she wanted to see.
She’d written a zillion texts, an email, a hard copy letter in pen, but none of them said what he wanted to hear. She didn’t know how to take the leap he wanted her to take, didn’t know how to beat the demons off when they still lingered in the darkness. The only thing that had chased Mark’s taint away was Adam, and he was slipping away.
Most women had a sounding board, a girlfriend, a gay male friend. Someone to make them realize what a bitch they were being before they made the worse mistake of their life. Megan had no one.
She laughed bitterly as she turned the water to hot and slipped beneath the spray. She had let Mark take away her need for friendship—she didn’t believe she deserved that, either. She was pathetic, stupid even, and she was going to lose the best thing that had ever happened to her.
Shampoo dripped into her eyes, and she welcomed the sting, the punishment so unlike Ad
am’s spankings. She could tell him what he wanted to hear—that would be hard, but she could do it. But it would be a lie, one he’d see through rather quickly. He knew her better than she knew herself. Knew her better than anyone except for her therapist.
Her eyes flew open with shock, and she finished her shower with haste. She stumbled to her phone, scrolling through the contact numbers. Ironically, Dr. Turner’s name fell right below Adam’s in the list. The solution beneath the problem—if only her life were that easy. She dialed with trembling fingers and waited for the number to connect.
“Dr. Turner? It’s Megan. Megan Connors. I know I haven’t been to see you in a while, but you did say I could call your personal number if it was an emergency. This is an emergency. I need to see you, and I’ll pay whatever you want me to for your time.”
****
Megan called in sick to work and met Dr. Turner with a hesitant smile when the doctor arrived on her porch an hour later. “Thank you so much for coming,” she said as she took the offered coat and directed the older woman to her living room. “Can I get you something?”
“Coffee?” Dr. Turner sat in the winged chair and fluffed the short blonde curls at her temple. “I must say, Megan. Your call surprised me.”
Megan returned with a mug of coffee and the appropriate fixings. “Because you thought me beyond help?”
She laughed, a merry sound. “I never thought that. Tell me what’s wrong. You were in a good place when we last met.”
“I don’t know if I’m in a good place or not, and I don’t know where to go or who to turn to, how to fix this mess I’ve made.” She rubbed her face in her hands, frustrated. She looked up, feeling helpless, and she clasped hands together on her lap. “I met a man, Dr. Turner. A very special man.”
“Of course you did, dear. Only a man can cause this much trouble.” She sat back and cradled her mug in her hands. “Why don’t you tell me about him?”
Megan started hesitantly at first, but then the words tumbled out, and she told her everything, every detail right down to her submissive streak and how he hated her for using him. How she hated herself, hated Mark, and even hated Adam, just a little.
“He doesn’t hate you and you don’t hate him,” Dr. Turner admonished. “Megan, this is wonderful, wonderful news. I’m so proud of you for reaching this point.”
Megan stared at the woman. Was she daft? “Really? I just told you my life is falling apart, and you’re proud of me? Really?”
“I didn’t release you from therapy because you were healed—I released you because you weren’t growing emotionally, and coming to my office every week wasn’t gaining us any progress. You weren’t living your life, and I couldn’t help you until you started. Now you have.” She spread her hands wide. “And here we are.”
“Well, that’s a comfort to know.” The clock ticked loudly from the mantle. “So what do I do now?”
“I can’t tell you what to do, Megan.”
“But Adam does,” she said in a small voice.
“In bed, definitely. That’s not wrong. I know that’s something you’re concerned about, so I’ll touch on that subject.”
Megan waved a hand in the air, trying to brush away the truth. “Finding out, out of the blue, that I’m a submissive isn’t wrong? That I like kinky sex?”
“Think back, Megan. Think back to college, to what you’ve told me.”
She closed her eyes. “I slept with two men.”
“Yes. And?”
She blew out a breath. “And a woman.” Kara. The roommate of a friend, incredibly sexy, impossibly forward. She’d shown Megan so much, gave her a first orgasm.
“And how did that woman make you feel?”
Megan thought of their encounters, and how Kara had boldly led her though this new world, how she’d taught her that an orgasm was nothing to be ashamed of.
And then she opened her eyes and blinked with sudden understanding.
Kara had led every step, had told Megan what to do, how to do it, and even when to come. She’d blocked that area of her life because she had been ashamed of the circumstances—not the relationship. But now that she looked back, she realized Kara had only started what Adam wanted to finish. “Oh God, I am a submissive.”
“And did being a submissive with a woman make you feel dirty?”
“No, not at all. It was very sexy.”
“So why would submitting to Adam be wrong? He said he loves you.”
Megan squirmed in her seat. “You know the answers to these questions, don’t you?”
“So do you, Megan.”
She sighed and toyed with a string poking from the seam on the couch. “I feel dirty submitting to Adam because of Mark.”
“That’s a good place to start.” Dr. Turner nodded.
Anger boiled up and she slapped the arm of the chair with her palm. She hated Mark. “Damn it, I don’t know how to make it stop. Every turn I take, I see something else he took from me—skating, my sexuality, my friends, now Adam.”
“Then take those things back.”
Kate stared at her. “That’s it? That’s the solution?”
“That’s part of it, and this is what I’m proud of. Look what you’ve taken back this week. You’ve skated, you initiated lovemaking with a man you’re attracted to, and you returned to therapy.”
“All that’s left is Adam,” she whispered.
“Yes. So now you have to decide how you’ll take him back.”
Chapter Ten
Friday afternoon Adam walked into the office, feeling like he’d run a marathon. He won the case he’d tried this week, but his heart didn’t feel the joy that it should. Because of Megan. He looked for her, but didn’t see her anywhere, so he continued on to Peg’s desk to collect his messages.
His phone dinged, and he looked at the incoming text. Megan. It wasn’t right that his heart pounded harder at the sight of her name, but what could he do? He loved her. He was screwed.
I’m ready to talk.
He read it again but refused to let himself feel any spark of hope until she was in his office, ready to be his.
My office? Five-thirty?
That would give him a little time to regroup. They could go somewhere else if Peg was still around, but she usually left by five-fifteen on Fridays.
Sure.
And then another text came on the heels of that one, this one from Sarah. 911, Yale.
“Oh, shit.” He turned to Peg, terror sliding up his arms in the form of gooseflesh. “I have to go. My mom’s in the hospital, and it’s bad.” He ran into his office, grabbed a few things, and sped back out. “‘I’ll be at Yale.”
“Shall I call Sarah for you? To let you know where you are?”
Sarah? Why? He brushed her comment aside. “No, she’ll be there.”
****
Megan approached Adam’s office, bristling that Peg was still at her throne, packing up for the end of the day. Damn the woman. Her nostrils flared as she started past the witch to his office.
“Adam isn’t in.”
Adam. Who was she to use his given name? “He asked me to meet him.”
She shrugged. “He left.”
“Left? Where did he go?” He had agreed to meet her. He wouldn’t just leave. Would he? Was he punishing her?
The secretary looked over her nose at Megan. “It’s none of your business.”
“Tell me, Peg. Now.”
Peg shrugged and turned off her computer. “He’s with Sarah.”
The name held no fuel this time. She trusted him. Megan rounded the desk to tower over the woman. “Sarah is his mother’s nurse. If you cared a lick about the man, you’d know that. So tell me, where is he?”
The woman’s eyes widened with fear. “He’s a private man. I may gossip about his sex life, but this is a family matter. I can’t tell you.”
Megan closed her eyes, swallowed hard, and opened them with resolve. “I’m sleeping with him, Peg. I’m his girlfriend. That hickey you t
old your friend Audrey about? I gave that to him right before I fucked him senseless. Now tell me where he went.”
****
Megan entered the wing of the ICU and approached the nurse’s desk, hauling her bag to her shoulder. “I’m here about a patient. Amelia Wentworth.”
The pretty nurse looked up over the computer monitor, bored. “Are you a relative?”
“Yes, I’m her daughter-in-law.” God strike her dead for lying, but she’d be there with him, come hell or high water. If Adam didn’t want her there, so be it. He could kick her out.
“Down the hall, the last room on the right.”
Her breathing accelerated as she hurried in the correct direction. Would he be happy to see her? Pissed? Definitely surprised. She rapped at the door and slid in. Adam looked up from the bedside chair, expectant, tired, and still achingly handsome.
“Megan.” He glanced at the bed, the occupant concealed from her view by the privacy curtain. He rose and crossed the short span, then extended his hand, pulling her to his embrace.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” she asked against his shirt.
“Yes, thank God. I need you.” He kissed her temple and hugged her. She inhaled his scent, letting him calm her pounding heart. He may not be happy with her, but he wanted her here. It was a start. “How did you find me? I’m sorry I forgot to call you. It happened so fast, and I left my phone in the car. I couldn’t remember your number.”
“I made Peg tell me where you were. Unfortunately, the whole office is going to know that I was the one that gave you the hickey, and that I’m the newest flavor of the month.”
The ghost of a smile played at his lips. “I can deal with that. Can you?” He pulled away to put a finger under her chin, lifting it so he could meet her gaze easier. Always the king of hiding what he felt, she couldn’t read his expression.
She sucked in a breath. “Yes.”
