by Sadie Marks
One eyebrow went up and he blinked in silent confusion. Of all the things that she could have asked, neither of them had expected that one. "Does it matter?"
"I want to know why you have to travel so much. It seems like it matters. If it's a job that you could do from here, then—"
"No, it's not. And there are other issues with me settling here too. I search out rare and valuable things and then I trade them. Or sell them," he said with such hesitation that she was sure he was holding something back.
"Like antiques?" she asked, watching him carefully.
"No, well, sometimes. It's a bit of everything really. I never know what I'll find." There was that hesitation again, and she noticed he'd gone back to his habit of speaking slowly as though tasting every word first before speaking. Over the weeks they'd spent together, he'd gotten so much better about that.
She tabled that for now though, while making a mental note about it. Her next question was much more important to her, to both of them. "This no sharing rule of yours—I understand monogamy for sex, but does that apply to other things? Playing at the club, for instance?"
"No, no one touches you if you're mine, Sam. I could barely stand to see someone else playing with you now; if I claim you as mine, it—no."
With most of her body pressed against his, she could feel the tenseness. The way his arms kept tightening around her and then relaxing as though he was forcing himself not to hold her too tightly. It could have been because he was afraid she might call the whole thing off over such limits, but somehow, she felt like there was more to it.
"It's going to be—" She sighed, and her fingers begin their nervous dance again. "It's going to be a problem if I can't play with anyone but you, and you're not around much. Look, Trev, I really lo—like you a lot, but when I go too long without some outlet for my stress, I kind of end up a mess."
"Well, there's a pretty easy solution for that, you know."
Her forehead wrinkled, eyes narrowing as she looked up at him. "There is?"
"Yes. You could just come with me." He dropped the offer there casually, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
"Just like that? Just go with you. What about my job, my apartment? What about—"
"Is there really anything holding you here, Sam?" His hand moved up to thread his fingers through her hair. He let them curl around the strands, and then he gave a sharp yank, tilting her head back so he could stare directly into her eyes. "Isn't it all just going through the motions? Is there anything you have here that you couldn't bear to lose?" he demanded. His voice had gone lower, rougher. The almost lyrical quality it usually held (and someday she had to find out where he'd learn to speak like he was singing without music because she was half-convinced it was how he always got his way. Damn hypnotic voice.) was gone.
She winced from the pull, fought for a second just to enjoy the sensation and then let him hold her there while she thought about what he'd asked. The reality was that he was right. She worked on the 'Sphere and could do that from anywhere. Sure, she had a nice block, a decent apartment, but it was empty. Just a place to live and nothing that she could really call a home.
No friends because she kept everyone at arm's length. What did she have to lose except maybe the sense of stability and equilibrium she'd built up since the last time her world had fallen apart? "I guess not, but leaving it all behind to go with you is still a pretty big step. We've only known each other for—" She paused to do the math.
"Eighty-seven days." Not that he was counting apparently.
"That long?" she asked in surprise. It hadn't felt like almost three months.
"Yes, and do you know how many of those days we've seen each other?"
She pursed her lips considering it. Well, there had been the week he was gone for work and then—
"Seventy-two."
She blinked, eyes widening, "Really?"
"Yes, really. I know it hasn't been long, but we've spent most of every day together during that time. I know there's a lot you don't know about me yet, but if you come with me, I promise I'll fill you in on everything you've been wanting to know," he said firmly.
Because that had been an issue more than once. He tended to deflect most of her questions or outright ignore them. She chalked up most of his strange habits to being a Rustic, but she couldn't help but wonder why he didn't want to talk about it. Embarrassment maybe, for being so out of touch with society, at least that was the only guess she could come up with.
"Why don't you tell me now, so I know what I'm getting myself into?" Her lips thinned and pressed together as one eyebrow went up, almost daring him.
"That's a lot of story, and too much of it I can't tell you now," he said as he shook his head. He had a look of resolve on his face that meant he didn't intend to change his mind.
She'd learned by now that when he looked like that, he meant it and pushing and nagging him to give in just never worked, but she sensed an opportunity here. A chance to trade something he wanted for something she wanted. She couldn't resist. "C'mon, Trev, if you really want me to walk away from my life, you have to give me something. I know literally nothing about you, except what I've seen. I don't know if you have a family. I don't even know what your job is!"
The exasperation was easily read by the sharp tone and the heavy sigh that followed it. Her eyes tended to take on a darker look when she was being stubborn, and now, they looked like flinty sapphires as they settled on his, narrowed and demanding, and she waited.
"Well?"
He scooped her up, settling her beside him instead of in his lap, and then he got up and began to pace the short distance across the floor and back. His hands swung at his side, balled into fists. Not from anger, she thought, but from nerves maybe. He seemed to be trying to make a decision, and when he finally came to a stop, towering over her, she found out what that decision was.
"There are a lot of things I can't, and won't, tell you, but if you think you need to know me better, maybe this will help. I'm an outcast. Never really fit in at home, so I don't have any family—not anymore. I don't have any friends. I don't really have anyone but you. I didn't really…" he trailed off, brow furrowed and jaw so tight that she could see a muscle jumping.
He was silent for so long, she was tempted to press, but the way he stood, his body language, warned her off and she remained silent and waited with uncharacteristic patience.
"I didn't plan to ever get involved with a woman. No relationships, just convenient temporary arrangements. It's better that way and easier to walk away without strings too," he said. "But then you…"
He shot her a look that was full of frustration, maybe even some anger, and then he sighed. "You changed everything. I don't regret it, but I've had to rethink all my plans—for you."
She felt like—she wasn't sure what she felt. Couldn't even begin to untangle the messy ball of string her emotions had become because she understood exactly what he was saying. They were two very different people with the exact same expectation from life. Her mouth worked soundlessly as she tried to find a way to tell him that every word he'd said was resonating with her.
Finally, still silent, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him. He stiffened and then relaxed, and his hand dropped down to caress her hair. She lost track of time as they remained like that. Eventually, they ended up going over to the club to play. They both needed to get rid of some tension, and she was pretty much always up for that kind of release.
By the time he had her restrained, she knew that she was going to go with him. She wasn't ready to tell him yet, and he hadn't said he had to leave immediately, so she had time to change her mind. Still, she knew what the end result would be; unless some glaring event popped up to scare her off, she would be going on the road with him. It wasn't nearly as scary as she would have expected, given her avoidance of any kind of commitment.
She was bound tight in ropes, twisted into a deliberately uncomfortable position and h
e was walking around, flicking the end of his belt out and leaving red swatches across random bits of flesh that caught his eye as she wiggled in the bindings.
"Maybe I should keep you like this until you agree to go with me?" he suggested in a conversational tone. "I feel like it would be motivating."
She twisted her head to give him an incredulous look, wincing as the rope tightened and pulled. "You think you can torture me into an answer?"
"Torture? This? You love this." He brought the flat end of the belt down, slapping it across her breasts. They were bound in rope too, making them tight and swollen. Even the flat leather swung without much force hurt and she groaned at the way the pain rippled as they bounced. "Don't you?" It was less of a question and more of a demand that she admit to it.
She gave him a stubborn look, but the second leather slap forced a "Yes!" from her mouth.
"Where I grew up, we'd call you 'Silla'. It means stubborn. As in 'you're too stubborn to give in to torture'. No, this is motivation. Come with me because I think you want more of this." And he gave her more—a lot more, but she chose not to give him the answer he wanted yet.
Every day, he seemed to come up with new and inventive ideas to hurt her in all the best ways. She'd never felt so alive, and he never seemed to get tired of it. She tried to restrict their activities to the club, where people understood, and where things were set-up for the best scenes, but at times, it crept into her apartment and she had to use the noise dampener to keep her neighbors from hearing her loud cries of both pleasure and pain.
And as he'd guessed, she did prefer him on top in bed. It wasn't something she could deny anymore, and after breaking all the rules for him, it seemed useless to try to go back to those clearly set boundaries that she'd always used with everyone else. His dominant aura swept over her, covering her like a blanket until she began to see what submissives liked so much about giving in.
Sometimes.
Even though she knew it was coming, it still caught her off guard when he finally announced that he was making plans to leave. He'd arrived looking worried, and even though he tried to hide it from her, she could see it in his posture and the way he fidgeted. One of his oddest habits, and there were many, was that he tended to stay almost preternaturally still. Almost like an animal stalking its prey, he would watch in complete stillness.
But not today. His body seemed full of restless energy, eyes wandering around the room but always settling back on the door. His expression was guarded and watchful too. Her mouth twisted into a frown as she touched his arm.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
He stopped, going utterly still for a second, like her touch had startled him, and she realized he'd been lost in his own thoughts from the second he'd arrived. He finally let out the breath he'd been holding and sighed.
"I have to leave."
The words hung there between them. They needed no further explanation; she knew exactly what he meant by leave, and it wasn't a short trip out of town. This was it, and his eyes were fixed on her face now, waiting for her to respond, to react in some way, but there was nothing as one minute, and then another ticked by.
She felt a cold creeping dread moving up her body, turning her to ice and freezing all those emotions she'd let free with him. She'd made her decision, she thought, but now that the moment had come, every one of her old doubts and fears crept through her mind and she—
"Hey! Samantha?" He grabbed her by both arms and gave her a hard shake, to get her attention.
"Stop shaking me!" she said in a peevish tone as she tried to pull free from his grip. Suddenly, she was angry. Furious at him for unlocking everything she'd tried to lock away, because feeling things made it so hard to think. What if she made the wrong choice because he'd bungled her emotions with his dominance and his affection? She wouldn't call it love, not yet, but it was so close…so close to being something she couldn't live without.
She glared at him as her heart thundered loudly in her ears. "Let me go!" The demanding tone and the way her eyes had narrowed into slits seemed to catch him off-guard.
"I'll let you go if you talk to me," he said, patient as usual.
The calm voice soothed her, and she was aware that he was probably confused about her sudden mood swing, but he just didn't get it. She'd already started making plans to leave with him, even though she hadn't let him know she was going. She could probably leave with only a few days' notice—if that was what she wanted.
But even though she had done those things, there had still been this part of her that was convinced it would never come to this. There'd never been an immediacy to it. It was a someday thing that she could pretend might never happen. Until it did. Until now. She took a deep breath, and then another, forcing herself to relax.
"It's just so soon. I thought it would be longer," she said finally. She had to force the words out, and to her ears they sounded foreign, like someone else was using her mouth while she watched.
He let her go abruptly and shook his head. "It's been too long already. I was never meant to be here more than a month, Sam. I just—you're like air. I couldn't get enough, and the longer I spent with you, the harder it was to think about leaving." He thrust a hand through his dark hair, shoving it back off his face with a gesture of controlled violence. "You have no idea how much I risked by staying this long." He began to pace.
She tilted her head to the side, watching how just a few long strides ate up the distance of the floor before he had to turn and come back. For the first time since she'd known him, she could see how close he was to losing control. She wasn't afraid. It wouldn't be that kind of outburst when it came, but it was there, lurking under a surface that was cracking.
She stopped him with a hand on his arm when he made the return trip. "No, you're right. I don't know because you won't talk about it, but if I come with you, you'd better follow through and tell me everything, Trev. Ev-er-ry-thing. I'm serious, because I'll turn around and come right back if you don't."
He gave her a look she couldn't decipher and then he nodded. "You'll know everything when we get out of here, Sam. But I can't wait; I need an answer. Now." There was such intensity in the words, she could feel the emotion he was holding back. The demand he was keeping himself from making because he knew she didn't do well with orders and ultimatums.
She sighed, letting her eyes close for a second as she contemplated what she was about to do, and then she nodded. Just one determined nod. "Yes, I'll come. I just have to make some arrangements."
He stared at her in disbelief. "Really? You're agreeing to leave with me?" He seemed shocked that she'd given in.
"I said it, didn't I?" She offered him a slight grin to cushion the snark in her flippant reply. "Just give me some time to get things together."
"How much do you need? We really need to get out of here soon," he said, back to sounding worried.
"Well, I think a couple of days would—"
"Too long, Sam," he replied, shaking his head as his eyes flicked toward the door again.
He's being hunted, she thought. Though she quickly dismissed it as a silly idea, she still couldn't help wondering. He wasn't wanted by the authorities. There would be no Keepers coming to arrest him. She wasn't so dumb or naïve as to spend all her time with a man she hadn't bothered to investigate. While she hadn't been able to find out anything about him specifically, she thought that was probably because Rustics didn't enter the systems much. What she did know was that he wasn't wanted for anything, and there had been no facial recognition matches with any criminals.
"If I help, what's the fastest you can get everything together?" he asked. The way he was acting, he expected them to be out the door in under ten minutes, and she was not ready for that.
"I—maybe a day?" She wasn't sure she could get everything done in that amount of time but maybe if she did the most important things first, the rest wouldn't matter.
He frowned and his hand went up to smooth back the hair he'd ruffled. "That
's the best you can do?" he said with a sense of urgency.
"Yes. I don't need to take much with me, but I have to put my things in storage at least and the auto mover will have to be scheduled. And I'll have to let the apartment manager know I'm going too. Then packing and…" She trailed off with a sigh. It was a lot of work, so it was a good thing she'd already written up a list of things she'd have to do.
"What can I do to help?"
She shook her head firmly. As nervous as he was, he'd probably just make it take longer. She waved a hand toward the couch. "Just relax; I'll let you know if there's anything you can do." And she did think of a few things over the course of the day, sending him out on various errands while she worked her way through her contacts and made all the arrangements.
By the next morning, to her surprise, she was ready to go. Instead of being pleased that she was hours ahead of schedule, he simply rushed her out the door like the room was on fire. He hustled her down the stairs and bundled her into a public car so fast, she barely had time to stow her bags. She was about to tell him off when he settled in next to her, but then he did something she'd never seen before, and her eyebrows flew up in surprise.
He had a device in his hand, clicked it twice, and then ordered the car to take them out past the city limits. No clear destination given, simply to stay on the road and keep driving for a specific number of kilometers. But public cars were stupid. They didn't have nearly the programming capacity that a private car had, and it shouldn't even have been able to understand those directions. But no red error lights flashed, and the SDV simply pulled away from the curb as usual.
"How—did you do that? They aren't supposed to leave the city!"
"I have an override device. It comes in handy here sometimes." He settled back against the seat and closed his eyes to make it clear that he wasn't going to say anything else about it, and after a minute, she sighed and gave up staring at him.
"Fine, don't tell me then, but I thought Rustics tried to limit the technology they used, and I've never seen anything like that," she snapped as she sank into the padded seat with a frown fixed firmly on her face.
