“No! Of course not!” He turns toward me, grasping my hands in his and planting a tender kiss on the back of them. It’s the first time his face has softened since that night in the kitchen.
“I don’t understand.” I shake my head.
“I’ve been pushing you all week, hoping you’d push back. You’ve been on autopilot ever since that night I got wasted. If I have to hear another “yes, master” from your lips, I swear I’m going to lose it.” He tugs on his hair in exasperation.
“Hang on, I’m just givingyouwhatyouwant.” I narrow my eyes at him, jabbing my finger into his chest. “You said that night that I was to do my ‘fucking job,’ because that’s what you’re paying me for. Have I not been the perfect sub for you all week?” I ask incredulously.
“Yes, you have, gorgeous, but I don’t want a slave,” he responds, his tone softening. “Why do you think I haven’t touched you? I don’t fuck mindless robots. You’re cold and closed off. I just want things to go back to the way they were,” he pleads, his eyes searching mine.
I close my eyes, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “The only reason I’ve been a mindless robot is because ofyou!”
“I know. I’m sorry, kitten.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for my behavior that night and the things I said. I had an eye-opening realization that night that sent me spiraling. I lashed out at you, hoping to regain some semblance of control. I’m not trying to excuse my actions because I know I can’t.”
His admission surprises me; it’s not something he would typically say.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking this past week. I even saw a therapist,” he adds. Suddenly, it all clicks into place. “I know how much therapy has helped you over the years, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.”
“And did it help?” I sigh, my anger deflating.
“It did, but I’m still working stuff out.” He lifts his shoulder. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
His openness and willingness to seek help makes me smile. I’m glad I’ve influenced him in some small positive way. “I know,” I say, pressing my lips to his. He responds by deepening the kiss, his tongue melding against mine in a sensual dance. His kiss is tender and loving, brimming with so much feeling that I draw back, gathering the courage to voice what has been weighing on my mind all week. “But, Dameon, we can’t go back to the way it was before.”
“What? Why not?” His expression falls.
“Because…” I pause, grappling with my own emotions. It’s a leap of faith to admit this, risking my emotions, the walls I’ve built to protect myself. But it’s all or nothing at this point. “I’ve fallen for you,” I confess.
The smile that spreads across his face lights my soul on fire, reigniting the spark of hope that I snuffed out this past week. And boy, have I missed those dimples.
He starts to speak, but I gently press my finger against his lips. “Let me finish, please. I’ve fallen for you, and that’s why we can’t go back,” I say firmly. He shakes his head slightly. “As much as I want to return to the way things were, we can’t. We were behaving like a loved-up couple, and while it was incredible and it made me fall even harder for you, I can’t go down that path again while under contract.”
I pause, gathering my thoughts. “You’re paying me to do a job, to be your submissive and cater to your every desire. I’m more than happy to abide by the terms of our agreement, but we need clear boundaries, and emotions can’t be a part of it. We have to maintain the professionalism we’ve had this past week. It’s my responsibility to uphold these boundaries, and to enforce them. And it’s my fault that things escalated, and the lines got blurred. If that’s not what you want, I understand, but I can’t offer you more than that while you’re still my client.” I drop my head, hoping he hears the sincerity in the voice and understands my perspective. I’ve put my thoughts, feelings, and emotions in his hands.
“What are you suggesting, that we terminate the contract?”
“Well, we can either maintain the professional boundaries we’ve established over the past week, or… we can end the contract and try dating for real,” I propose, holding my breath as I await his response. His silence stretches, and I can sense the freak-out racing through his mind. Disappointment digs its claws into me.
He doesn’t want me.
“Here’s the thing,” he says at last. “I like you, Hailee. I like you a lot. That was the realization I had the other night. In fact, I more than just like you. And it’s taken me this whole week to come to terms with that. I don’t want a 24/7 dom–sub relationship anymore. I only want you, every part of you. But I’m still grappling with the idea of a relationship without a contract. Edward seems to think I’ve been using it as my safety net to ensure that I won’t be betrayed again.”
“Wait. Who’s Edward?” I ask, puzzled.
“Dr. Edward Avery, my therapist.”
“I think Edward might be onto something,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek to stop the smile threatening to spill across my face. “Why don’t we keep things professional until you’re ready to let go of the contract? I’m a patient woman, I can wait.”
He blows out a strained breath as if I’ve just suggested that he bend over so I can conduct a prostate exam. I can’t help but laugh at his pained expression. He narrows his eyes playfully and flashes that panty-dropping smile.
“Okay, deal,” he agrees, crashing his lips to mine and kissing me deeply.
“Deal,” I sigh when he eventually lets me up for air.
Who would have thought I’d profess my love and have a mature heart-to-heart conversation with my master about our relationship, with my tits hanging out and a plug the size of an eggplant up my ass, in the middle of a kinky restaurant?
Certainly not me.
Chapter thirty
