“Thanks,” Cole said. “Sometimes you just need to hear the words.”
• • •
Sasha threw herself into work the next Monday. Julie thought she was trying to keep her mind busy so she didn’t have to face whatever it was that had upset her at the group meeting. Sasha refused to talk about it, though, simply stating she was done with being a submissive.
Since Sasha had the shop covered, Julie decided to stop by Daniel’s grandmother’s place after lunch. While cleaning house on Sunday, she’d come across the books she’d promised the older lady. A weekday afternoon would be a safe time to go take them, she thought. After all, Daniel would be working.
Except he wasn’t.
“Daniel,” she said, taking a step backward when he opened his grandmother’s door. “What . . . why . . . ?”
Daniel covered his surprise quickly and opened the door to let her inside. “I had to take her to the doctor’s. We just got back and I’ve convinced her to nap.” He nodded to the books in Julie’s hand. “Wanted to swing by when I wouldn’t be here?”
She lifted her chin, refusing to feel guilty. “Can you blame me?”
“No.” His expression was sad. “I can’t and I’m sorry, I didn’t say it to be cruel.”
The truth of his words—the truth that he wasn’t a cruel man—made her feel warm inside. He cared for his sister and his niece, and took his grandmother to doctor appointments. She knew he’d asked Dena to check up on Sasha after the group meeting Thursday night.
Even in his playroom, where obedience was expected without question, he’d never treated her cruelly. He’d been patient, slowly introducing her to the unexplored side of her sexual nature.
She tentatively touched his arm. “No, I’m the sorry one.”
She thought he looked tired and wondered if he tossed and turned the way she did. Did he lie in bed remembering their time together? Did those memories haunt him, too?
“Let me take those for you.” He reached for the books. “You know you didn’t have to bring them.”
“I wanted to.”
“I know and she’ll love them.” He walked into the sitting area and placed them on a table beside the couch. “Would you like to sit down? I’ll get you a drink.”
She was torn. Like before, being in the same room with him left her confused. One look at him and she felt lost in need and desire. A glance at his hands and she wanted them on her. She missed his smile, his wit, and his easygoing manner.
“Or if you need to get back,” he said, misinterpreting her silence.
“No, it’s fine.” She sat on the couch, not ready to leave him just yet. “Sasha’s got it covered.”
He sat beside her. “How is she?”
“Overcompensating. Throwing herself into work. Refusing to talk.”
“Do you think it’d be a good idea for her to talk with someone? Professionally?”
“At this point I’d suggest anything.”
“That bad?”
“I just hate to see her hurting.”
“I know how you feel,” he said. “It’s difficult to see someone you care about in pain.”
She couldn’t face the intensity of his gaze, knowing he was talking about them, so she dropped her head and played with a loose thread on her shirt. “I know you told me it was over, but I haven’t stopped wanting. Needing.”
“Julie,” he said, softly. “I only did what I did to ease your internal turmoil. To give you what you thought you wanted.”
“I know, but you can’t command my mind the way you did my body.”
“You just didn’t give me enough time.”
Her head shot up. “What?”
“A Dominant-submissive relationship takes time to build, especially when one of the participants is new.” He scooted forward. “Do you remember that last day? When I commanded you not to orgasm?”
“Frequently,” she confessed, earning a smile from him.
“Do you understand that, yes, part of the scene was taking control away from you, but it was also me learning you and your body?”
She shook her head.
“Learning what turns you on, what you like, what you love. How your face, body, and breathing look when you’re about to come.” He leaned toward her and her body answered in kind. “Your forehead wrinkles and your left eyebrow twitches, by the way.”
She couldn’t hold back the laugh. “What?”
“Right before you cl**ax, your forehead wrinkles and your left eyebrow twitches.”
He would know, of course, because he was an excellent Dominant. Exactly like he’d told her once before. And still, even after what happened to Sasha, to be in the same room with him left her achy and needy.
Perhaps, she wondered, that was because her body accepted what she was and refused to deny itself that need.
And in that moment she knew. She could pretend all she wanted that she wasn’t a submissive, but pretending would never make it so. Daniel had helped her discover her true sexual self, and now that she knew the truth, she could never again deny it.
The only question to answer was, what would she do with that knowledge?
• • •
Dena nearly squealed when Julie asked her to come by for a talk the following weekend. Seeing Daniel again had ignited something inside her. Even watching Sasha deal with her own demons didn’t deter it. During the day, Julie forced herself to focus on work, but at night she allowed the memories to wash over her. Memories of time spent in Daniel’s playroom and in his bed, yes. But more important, memories of him.
“I’ve decided it doesn’t matter,” she told Dena over dinner Saturday night.
“What doesn’t?”
“That I can’t separate thoughts of being submissive from thoughts of Daniel.”
“That sounds like progress.”
They were sitting at Julie’s kitchen table, eating chicken salads. Julie had thought of asking Sasha to join them, but decided at the last minute that Sasha wasn’t in the right frame of mind yet. If Sasha were with them, Julie feared she wouldn’t be able to speak freely with Dena.
“Really?” Julie asked. “Progress?”
“You’ve only been submissive to Daniel, so of course you find it difficult to separate them. And, frankly, until you do, you might not be able to.”
Julie’s fork slipped from her hand and clanked against her bowl. “Submit to someone else? That isn’t where I saw this conversation going.”
“Then you have to ask yourself if it matters.” Dena shrugged. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind it doesn’t.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Julie knew there was no way she’d even entertain thoughts of submitting to someone else.
“You know, I’m thinking,” Dena said. She took a bite of salad and chewed before continuing. “What if you watched?”
“Watched what?”
“A scene. I could arrange it.” Dena’s face lit up as she talked. “I can get a Dom to play and let you watch. Could you do that, you think? Watch me in a scene?”
Julie found it hard to believe she was even having this conversation. More than that, was she seriously considering it? “I don’t know.”
“I think before you go any further, you should explore the dynamics a bit more. It could be very helpful to actually see what it looks like for a submissive to place herself before a Dominant. For a Dominant to control that submissive. Pretty hard to do when you’re the one on your knees and if you’re like me, you have no desire to be the one in control.”
It made sense when Dena put it that way. Julie shifted in her seat. Didn’t she owe it to herself to make an informed decision? Even if that meant watching?
• • •
The next Saturday night Julie rode to Jeff’s house with Dena. Dena’s mood was somber, though she tried to hide it with little smiles and subtle teases. As they drove closer to their destination, she gave up and stopped talking altogether.
“You know,” Julie said, “you don’t have to do this.”
Dena’s expression went from borderline anxious to resolved in a flash. “I do. You need to see it before you make your mind up. See that it’s so much more than kinky sex. It’s more than a physical need—it’s emotional and mental, too.”
Julie decided not to think too much about the fact that she’d be watching her friend and a man she barely knew engage in BDSM play. Dena said she needed to see a scene from both perspectives and that the best way to do that would be to watch.
“Why Jeff?” Julie asked. Whenever she thought about the dark Dominant, she remembered his commanding voice as he presided over the meeting and his dispassionate manner as he spoke about Peter’s punishment.
“Why not?” Dena asked. “He’s available. He’s an excellent Dom. Besides, Cole left, and even if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t pick him—”
“Why not?”
“Cole is, um . . .” She seemed to be having a hard time finding the word she wanted. “He’s an excellent Dom, too. He’s just a bit intense in the playroom.”
“Intense?”
“He’s known as the Badass Brit. Just don’t ever call him that to his face.”
Julie remembered the way he made her address him as “sir” the night of Peter’s punishment. “I believe that.”
“Which is fine. It’s just not what I want you to experience right now. That leaves Master Greene, who’s busy with Peter, and, well, I couldn’t ask Daniel.”
Julie squirmed in her seat, not wanting to go anywhere near Daniel playing with Dena.
“Not that he would have taken me up on the offer,” Dena continued. “He hasn’t played since you.”
“Really?”
“He might have spoken the words to let you go, but his heart hasn’t processed them yet.”
Julie sat back in her seat, turned to the window, and smiled. Maybe all hope wasn’t lost after all.
Jeff lived in a cabin-style house, set back in the woods. Dena had told her he owned a security company. A small two-man operation that did well enough to support his modest lifestyle. He’d turned outside lights on, which was helpful, Julie thought. Without them, they would be in complete darkness.
“Little bit scary, don’t you think?” Julie asked. She couldn’t even see if he had neighbors.
“Maybe a bit. Just until you get used to it.” Dena’s eyes were on the front door. Her demeanor had relaxed somewhat, and if anything, she looked full of anticipation.
Jeff met them at the door and let them into his house. The cabin look was continued inside with exposed wooden beams in the ceiling and spotless hardwood flooring made from wide planks. Though she’d thought the outside to be scary, inside it felt warm and inviting.
He greeted them both kindly and while he made small talk, Julie took a few minutes to get a good look at him.
He was just as dark as she remembered: dark wavy hair, dark eyes, and though his voice was pleasant enough, he didn’t seem to smile often. She couldn’t help but compare him with the woman at his side. With her blond hair, blue eyes, and lively personality, Dena appeared to be his polar opposite.
He led them into a spacious living room and motioned for them to sit down.
“Julie,” he said, in the same deep, commanding voice she remembered. “This is an odd request for me. Normally, I don’t invite people to my home to watch me play, but I’m doing this as a favor to Dena and to Daniel.”
Her heart raced and she wondered if Daniel knew what she was doing tonight. “Thank you, sir.”