“Come inside so we can talk, baby,” he said in a low voice that was almost pleading. Hell, itwaspleading. He was damn near begging.
She stared ahead, her gaze fixed on the windshield, never wavering. It was like looking at an ice sculpture.
“Chessy,” he prompted. “Please come inside with me. There’s a lot I don’t understand right now. I need my girl to talk to me so I can fix this.”
Slowly she turned, her eyes swamped with so much hurt that an invisible hand clutched Tate by the throat and squeezed until he could barely breathe. Where had things gone wrong? How could he not have seen this coming?
Yes, he’d noticed that she’d been different in the past year, but she’d never given him any hint that she was unhappy or that he wasn’t satisfying her. She always had a bright smile, warm with love for him. She was always understanding when he was called away for business when they were together. Her difference had been a moment’s puzzlement quickly swept aside by her sunny smile and sweet disposition.
Had it all been a lie? Or was he just completely blind to his wife’s dissatisfaction?
“Do youwantto fix it?” she asked in a challenging tone. “Seriously, Tate. Do you even care? Do you want to fix what’s wrong or do you just want things to continue on like normal? You leaving get-togethers with our friends. You receiving phone calls at all hours of the evening—after work, mind you. We can’t even make love for that damn phone going off, and you’re so tied to it that one would think if you actually let it go for an hour that the world would end.”
Tate sucked in his breath at the bitterness in her voice. The hurt crowding into her face and bleeding over into her impassioned statement. Or rather her question. Did he want to fix it? Of course he did. But first he had to know what the hell he was supposed to fix.
He reached across the seat to take her hand, half afraid—okay a lot afraid—that she’d recoil, that she would refuse to let him touch her. She went rigid but didn’t yank her hand away. He gently pried her fingers apart with his thumb and then laced their hands before lifting hers to his mouth as he leaned over.
“Listen to me, baby. I love you. You mean the world to me. Always have. Do I want to fix things? Damn right, I do. But first I have to know what I’m up against. And that means that we have to go inside and you have to talk to me. Will you do that, please?”
His words felt all wrong. His entire demeanor since the night had ended in shambles had not been him. Nor was it indicative of his relationship with Chessy. She was his. In every way that counted. She’d gifted him with her absolute submission, and as her Dominant—and the man who loved her with all his heart—his responsibility was to cherish her, protect her gift, ensure her happiness.
He felt like a complete failure. He hadn’t been dominant tonight. Chessy had been in control, dishing out commands to him when he was usually the one giving her instructions. It was the way their relationship worked. Always had.
And yet tonight? Hell, thinking back, it went way beyond just tonight. When was the last time he’d truly exerted his dominance? He used to control every aspect of Chessy’s life. It may seem extreme to someone on the outside looking in, but it was what worked for them. He wanted her submission and she wanted his dominance. She’d never shied away from his control. Never protested. Never gave any sign she was anything but happy with their agreement.
But when had he last demonstrated that dominance?
It was a sad testament that he couldn’t even remember. Couldn’t point to a time or moment over the last year when he’d acted as her Dominant.
The pieces were coming together in his mind, and he didn’t like what he was seeing. He hated the idea that he’d failed Chessy. Miserably. She was unhappy, and his girl was always happy. She lit up a room like a million rays of sunshine. She had such a tender, loving heart and she spread that love to everyone she encountered.
People were always at ease with Chessy. It was why he’d made certain to bring her to dinners with prospective and current clients because she made others relax, be more open. She was like a magnet, drawing people to her effervescent personality. Later he’d worried that keeping up with his pace was too much for her, and he never wanted her to feel the pressures of his job. That was his to bear. Never hers. So he’d told her he wanted her to back off. Spend time with her friends instead of always planning a social gathering.
And now the light had gone out in her beautiful eyes. All because of him and his dismal failure to provide for her needs.
He tightened his grip on Chessy’s hand, waiting for her response. She was taking way too long to respond, her brow wrinkled as if she was waging some kind of internal war. God, whatever it was, let him come out the victor and let her acquiesce to his plea to talk this out.
“I’ll talk,” Chessy finally said.
But her tone was fatalistic. Like she’d already decided the outcome after they discussed their relationship and why she was so unhappy. Had she lost that much faith in him? The idea devastated him.
“But it has to be in neutral territory,” she added. “We have no business having sex with this wall between us. I don’t want our physical attraction to hinder our discussion.” Her gaze swept downward, sorrow creasing her face and tugging her lips into a sad frown. “That’s assuming you even still want me,” she said in a tone tinged with grief. “It’s been so long since you’ve instigated any sort of sex that the reasonable conclusion is you no longer desire me or find me attractive.”
Tate damn near swallowed his tongue as protests immediately formed on his lips. Goddamn it but there was so much wrong with her statements that he didn’t even know where to begin.
Theyneverused the word sex when it came to their lovemaking.Never. Sex was for people not emotionally involved to the degree Chessy and Tate were. At least that was his thinking on the matter.
And not want her? He was flabbergasted. What could he have possibly done to plant such a ridiculous notion in her head? She was the most beautiful woman in the world to him. Other women? Simply didn’t exist. How could he want for more when he had a gorgeous, loving, generous, tenderhearted submissive wife he came home to every day?
Okay, so maybe they hadn’t made love in a while. A long while. He winced inwardly again as he pondered and tried to remember the last time they had truly made love.
There had been hasty sessions. No buildup. No extended foreplay. Totally selfish on his part because he’d had sex with her and then he was off to work or to a meeting with a client.
Yes, he’d just used the word sex to describe their lovemaking. Because, well, what he’d done lately amounted to just that. Selfish sex. Not seeing properly to her needs. Not exerting his dominance. Something she didn’t just want butneeded. Yet another dismal example to mark on his growing list of failures.
“We’ll talk wherever you want,” he said around the knot in his throat. He was ceding power to her. A complete reversal of roles. He didn’t like it one bit, and by the look on Chessy’s face, neither did she.
But what was he supposed to do in this situation? It would make him a flaming asshole if he whipped out his dominance and forced her submission and then used his dominance to manipulate her.
