“Oh, yeah! We applied for a copy of my birth certificate! I’m going to get a learner’s permit and my Social Security card and take GED classes! Isn’t that awesome?” she asks. She’s still crying, but it’s been reduced to just a hiccuping-type sniveling.
“I have to say, I’ll have a good report to give to the social worker when she calls me. I’m proud of you, Rayanna. You’re taking charge of your life.”
“I have Lucien to thank for that,” she says and squeezes my hand. “He’s given me hope.”
That does it. I turn loose of her hand, get up, and almost run out of the office. I hear the door open and close behind me as I stand in the outer office and in a few seconds Ted’s voice says, “Lucien, what’s wrong?”
It’s taking everything I have to hold back the tears, and I can barely speak. “What if I let her down? What if I screw this up?”
“Do you want to screw it up?”
I press a finger and thumb into the inside corners of my eyes to help stop the tears. “No. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“The fear that you might is the thing that will keep it from happening. You’re doing great with her, Lucien. Better than I ever expected. There’s something in her voice, something light and warm, that I didn’t hear before you came into her life. Do you love her?”
I close my eyes and a tear escapes from each of them as I bow my head. “I do. More than I thought possible.”
“You’re a well-trained Dominant, and there’s one thing I know about Dominants. If you make a decision, any decision, it’ll be in her best interest. You’ll sacrifice yourself for her. I know that about you. You’re true to the tenets of the lifestyle. You’re doing exactly what she needs you to do and loving her in the process. I cannot―cannot―tell you how impressed I am with you. I only wish I could make a quarter of the positive changes in my patients’ lives that you’re making in hers.”
“Thank you.” I swallow hard and sniff, wishing I had a tissue.
“You’re welcome. Come on in and sit back down.” I follow obediently and close the door behind me after we’ve both reentered the office.
“Did I say something wrong, sir?” she whispers to me as I sit down.
“No, baby. You said everything right. Absolutely everything.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, she leans over and kisses my cheek. With that one little action, my world is right again.
When we leave, it’s almost lunchtime, so we stop at a sandwich shop on the way home and grab a bite. We’re sitting there, eating and chatting, when the text tone goes off on my phone, and I remember that I forwarded my calls to Brian. Hey, turn off your call forwarding and call me. Big news.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I say as soon as he answers the phone.
“You did it.”
“Did what?”
“You. Did. IT. The Blakemore deal. They’re signing the lease this afternoon.”
I stop dead. I’m sure my normally-dark face is ghostly white. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Didn’t even take a week to decide. They want it. Can you get over to Riley Real Estate and tell them the contract is imminent?”
“Of course! Be glad to.” I can’t believe it. The guy seemed interested, but I didn’t think they were that interested. “Talk to you later.”
I end the call and hear Rayanna ask, “What’s wrong?”
All I can do is grin. “Nothing, babe. I just earned myself a huge finder’s fee.”
“What’s huge?”
“Well, since real estate is at a premium in this area and companies are fighting over it, we get six percent. And Brian wants to give me sixty percent of that. And the property’s sale will go for twenty million dollars. I did the math when he told me that.” Just thinking about it makes me almost breathless. “Rayanna, I’m looking at almost three quarters of a million dollars.”
Her eyes go wide. “Three quarters of a million?”
“Yes. Before taxes, of course, so I’ll have to pay out of that. But still, about seven hundred and twenty thousand dollars.” The numbers are rattling around in my head and making so much noise that I can barely think. “I’ve got to go to the realtor’s office right now and tell them it’s taken. You can stay in the car―it’ll only take a minute.” She just stands there. “Babe, come on. I’ve gotta go!”
She seems stunned, and that guess is confirmed when she speaks. “I’ve never known a rich person before.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, that’s a long way from rich! I’ll be lucky to see four hundred and fifty thousand from it after taxes. That’s still a lot of money, but it doesn’t mean I’m rich. And you do know a rich person.” Her brow drops. “Boone. He’s loaded. Lots and lots of money.”
“Oh. And he’s really nice too. He’s not an asshole. Don’t let money turn you into an asshole, sir. Please?”
“Won’t happen. Now come on! I’ve got to get to the real estate office!” Square footage is at such a premium here that several times people pretending to be attached to the real estate market have called realtors’ offices and said they were leasing just to reserve a property when in fact they had no money. After a few times like that, they all expect us to show up in their offices and show some kind of identification. The people at Riley know me, so that makes it easy. They’re also bound to give us our finder’s fee out of the proceedings, so it’s a way to stake our claim to the proceeds.
Sure enough, they’re all ecstatic when I walk in and tell them the news, and Bob Riley thanks me for working with them. As property headhunters, we help them. They need listings, and they can concentrate on that if they know we’re out hustling their properties to potential buyers. A couple of real estate firms don’t want to work with us, but the majority are glad to have us.
I slip back into the car and Rayanna smiles. “Are they happy?”
“Very. Let’s go home. We’ve got something we need to do.”
But not before we stop at one of the big department stores. “What are we doing here?”
“You’re getting a dress. A dressy dress. Because I’m taking you out for a very nice dinner tonight,” I announce, grinning.
“Ooooo! A fancy dinner! With tablecloths and cloth napkins and all that?” she says, squinting her eyes as she smiles.
“Yes. All of that. So let’s find you something.”
An hour later, we leave with a beautiful dress, a new pair of shoes, and a bag to match them. Now to go home and get dressed. We have some celebrating to do!
* * *
She had no idea what to order, so I ordered for her. That meant she got the filet mignon, herbed mashed potatoes, and roasted broccoli. I ordered basically the same thing, except mine was a hanger steak, and a particularly large one at that. I’m stuffed.
“Are we getting dessert?” she asks as she forks the last bite of filet into her mouth.
“Do you want dessert?”
“I’m asking because I don’t think I can eat another bite, sir. I just can’t.”
“Was it good? Did you enjoy it?”
“Oh god, sir, it was delicious! I wish I could figure out what they put in those potatoes,” she says, the last piece of broccoli securely speared on her fork.
“I know. There’s something different in there, but I can’t put a finger on it. Still delicious though.”
“I know they had parmesan cheese in them. That I could taste,” she says confidently.
“You know, I think you’re right! But they’re really tasty. So are you about ready to go?”
“Are we going home, sir?” she asks as she dabs the corners of her mouth with a napkin.
“No. We’ve got a stop to make.”
I park out in front of the jewelry store and when we get inside, you’d think it was Christmas. Rayanna goes from case to case, looking at the jewelry, her eyes sparkling like the diamonds they’re reflecting. What I want is far more modest than what she’s looking at, but I think she’ll like it all the same. I want them engraved, but the sale
sperson assures me I can walk in any day between ten and five and one of the employees will be able to do it for me. I pay, pick up my little package, and take Rayanna’s hand as I head out the door.
“Get ready for bed,” I order as soon as we’re through the front door.
“Yes, sir.” She scurries off to the bathroom while I find a home in the drawer for my purchase. Twenty minutes later, she steps into the bedroom as bare as the day she was born, as usual. Fifteen minutes after that, so do I.
I slide into the sheets and pull her into my arms. God, she feels so good! Our kisses aren’t frantic, or deep, or sex-laden. They’re soft and sweet, the kind that make promises without words. When she pulls back and looks up into my eyes, she whispers, “I love you, Lucien.”
“I love you too, Precious.”
“Do you love me more than that woman? The other one?”
“No.”
There’s this look of horror. “No?”
I take her face in my hands and kiss her forehead before I try to answer her in a way she can understand. “No. I don’t love you more. I don’t love her more than you. The way I feel about you is completely different than the way I felt about her, so I can’t measure it. It’s not possible.”
“If she came back, would you take her back?”
“No. I’m with you,” I answer with a snort.
“Oh.” I can tell she’s thinking about that. In a minute or so, she asks, “What’s the biggest difference between us? Me and her?”
“The differences between you are huge. She was well-educated and you don’t have a high school diploma.” I can feel her sag. “She was tall. You’re short. She was a curvy girl. You’re thin. She was really, really picky about how she looked. You’re more carefree.”
“She was better than me,” I hear her whisper.
“No. Not better. Just different. No high school, short, thin, carefree. They’re not worse or better―they’re just different.”
“I bet she sounds different from me.”
“She does. Her voice was deeper. She was a lot more confident than you too.”
“But I’m getting better that way, right?”
“Yes. But there’s one huge difference between the two of you. I mean, enormous. A difference that makes all the difference.” And then I stop.
It takes a full minute before she cries out, “Oh, for god’s sake, aren’t you going to tell me what it is?”
That makes me laugh out loud. She looks sort of offended and rolls her eyes at me, but I just take the hand that’s not under me and slap her butt, then laugh some more when she squeals. “Yes. I’ll tell you.”
“Well? Lucien, spit it out.” I can tell she’s getting really frustrated by the sharp edge in her voice.
“It’s really simple. I never needed Esme, Precious, but I need you.” There it is. I need her like I need to breathe, like I need water, like I need sleep. “You’ve given me something I haven’t had in a long time.”
“What’s that?”
“A purpose. Someone who needs me. Of course, if you don’t need me, I can―”
“I need you! I need you! You know that.” Her lips find mine again and she kisses me in a way I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed. The only word I can think of to describe it is devotion. “You’re the only person who needs me.”
“Carly needs you.”
It’s her turn to snort. “Obviously not. She’s doing just fine with Reagan and Terry.”
“She’s not doing just fine with Reagan and Terry. She misses you. Didn’t she ask you when you were coming to get her?” She nods against her pillow. “Well, then, I’d say she needs you.”
“Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”
“I’m not just trying to make you feel better! Carly needs you. She loves Reagan and Terry, I’m sure, but they’re not her mom. She wants to be with you.”
“I wish you could meet her. She’s beautiful, and funny, and sweet.”
“Like her mom,” I say and drop another kiss on those beautiful lips.
Seconds later, I’m inside her. There are no words to describe how I feel when I’m moving against her, our bodies tangled together, arms wrapped around each other, our hearts entwined. I manage to squeeze my hand between us and stroke her until she bucks against me with a gasp. Holding back isn’t an option as I spill myself into her and for the first time ever, I allow myself to have a fleeting thought, the vision of a tiny human, its skin kissed with the faintest hint of a caramel glow and its hair wavy and sticking straight up, but I dismiss it. I have no business thinking like that. Would I even want that kind of life?
I’m beginning to think I would.
Chapter Nine
I’ve made all the arrangements. Brian knows, as do Clint, Steffen, Dave, and Boone. Ted will be there, but he won’t be visible. Instead, he’ll be hanging out in the hallway, keeping watch but not where she can see.
Yes. We’re going to the club tonight, and we’re going to scene. And she has no idea I’ve planned this. I’m wondering what kind of hell will rain down when she finds out. Guess I’m about to find out.
She’s been working on her art while I’m out checking on a property, and now I’m headed back. I stop at Frills ‘n Thrills, the shop where Melina works, and she helps me come up with some fetwear and a few other things. Then I stop at a little shop on the way home and pick up some flowers. Nothing like a little grease on the skids to keep the whole thing from grinding to a halt.
I step through the door, flowers and bag in my arms, and call out, “Precious? You here?”
“Of course!” She comes flying up the hallway toward me, smiling, and spots the flowers. “Oh, god! Did you bring those for me?”
“I sure did. Wanted you to have them.” When I hand them to her, there’s a look on her face like I just gave her the keys to the Playboy Mansion. Okay, well, a guy gets that simile.
“Thank you! Do you have a vase for them?”
“Yep. Come on.” She trails behind me into the kitchen where I pull a clear glass vase from under the sink. I’m not even sure how that made it here in the move, but I remember putting it away, so at least I have it. “There! They look nice.”
She inhales deeply, her nose buried in them, and looks up at me, those eyelashes fluttering. “Thank you, sir! They’re beautiful.”
“You’re welcome. You busy?”
“No, not if you don’t want me to be.”
“Then come on in here. I need to talk to you about something.” I grip one hand and she carries the vase in the other until we get to the living room. Once the flowers are on the coffee table, she turns to me. I’ve tried to figure out how to say this all day, and the words aren’t easy. “So I made arrangements for us to go somewhere tonight.”
“Okay.”
“To the club.”
She gets this far-away look in her eyes before she says, “So you can scene with some other girls?”
“No. So I can scene with you.” Not a word comes from her mouth. “I think it’s about time.” Still nothing. This is not good. “Rayanna, say something. You’re scaring me a little.”
“I’m going to be naked in front of all those people?”
“Yes.”
“And are you going to be naked?”
“No. But all I’ll have on are my leathers.”
“And what do you plan to do to me?” she asks, more than a little trepidation in her voice.
“What do you want me to do to you?” At that question, those beautiful eyebrows hike up. “What I did with that woman last week? That wasn’t random.”
“I know. Brian told me,” she reminds me.
“Right. She and I talked about it first. That’s how it works. We call it negotiating. And you have the right to say no to anything you don’t want to do.”
She eyes me suspiciously, her brow furrowing. “Really?” I nod. “You mean I can just say no and you won’t do it?” Another nod. “Seriously?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Do y
ou want to hear what I’d like to do?”
“I guess so.” Unfortunately, I can tell by the look on her face that she’s scared shitless, and I feel bad, but we might as well get this over with, I suppose. “What do you want?”
“I want to do something that I think you’ll like, but you’ll be scared. You’ll have to trust me. Can you do that?”
She closes her eyes and for a few seconds, I think she’s probably going to run from the room, screaming. But she finally opens them and says, so softly that I can barely hear her, “Yes.”
So I lay it out. To my relief, she seems intrigued and not at all scared. That means I’ve got to go through some of the boxes I’ve got packed away in the back corner of the extra room back there and find my stuff. The redeeming factor here is that it speaks to her artistic side, and that’s all I needed to get her to say yes. She won’t be sorry and when it’s all done. She’ll probably want to do it over and over again.
And that I can do.
* * *
We’re supposed to be there at eight, so I gather up all of the things I’ll need and put them in my gig bag, along with my purchase from the jewelry store, before we head off for a very, very light dinner. We’re talking salad. Nothing more for either of us. We can eat later, but I don’t need upset stomachs to worry about.
By the time we get to the club, she’s a wreck and I’m not sure why. We talked about it all afternoon. We talked about it over dinner. We talked about it in the car. But the minute we walk through the door at Bliss, I can see her tensing. Even speaking to Brian as we walk through doesn’t seem to settle her down.
I send her off to the women’s locker room with the purchase I made this afternoon and I head to the men’s. As I dress, I think about how I’d love to wear these leathers all the time. They’re butter soft and probably the most expensive thing I own other than my car. Their purchase was the one time I can honestly say I got what I paid for. I’ve had them for over ten years and they look brand new, and every time I put them on, they feel better than they did the time before. What I really love is that they’ve got a parachute nylon lining from the waist all the way to the knees. That keeps them from sticking to my skin and binding. They were custom made for me, and if anything happened to them, I’d be pretty damn upset.
Eternally Yours: Bliss Series, Book Six Page 17
