Page 117 of Axe Marks the Spot

I turn my eyes down to the comforter. “It’s not all I like.”

Dane is quiet at my answer, and I don’t look up, shifting on the bed as I think of all the things I like beyond his tattoo. I should really get out of this bed before I embarrass myself. I didn’t plan to spend the night, and now things are going to get awkward.

I still don’t know what Dane and I are. He said a lot of things last night, and I said I’d wear his training collar, but what are we, really? Are we dating or just doing sexual scenes along with my daily check-ins? If I think too much about it, my head hurts. It’s all way too confusing for this early in the morning.

“Put this on,” he says.

I push my thoughts away as I look up at him. He’s holding out a neatly folded mustard-colored robe. I take it from his hands, the silky material soft against my fingers. I know right away this is a woman’s robe. My nagging insecurities attempt to bubble back up, but then I see it has tags on it.

“I got it for you,” he says before I can wonder if that was the case or if he simply had a robe lying around for a woman to wear.

“There’s also a new toothbrush for you in the bathroom. If you’d like, you can take a shower, or I can bathe you,” he adds with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “Regardless of your choice, you’ll put the cream I mentioned on to help with the pain.”

I swallow and look down at the robe in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over the fabric. When I look at the tags, I see he’s removed the price, but I recognize the brand as an expensive one. It’s also my size. I don’t know how he knew or if it was a lucky guess, but I’ve never had a man do something so kind for me.

Then it strikes me—we only planned this time together on a whim last night. How did he order everything for me in time? He had to have done it before. We don’t get things shipped to Starlight Haven in one or two days like in a big city.

“Is something wrong?” Dane asks.

“When did you order this?”

I expect the question to make him uncomfortable, but he simply says, “When our dynamic started to shift, I ordered your favorite new remote-controlled toy and that, along with a few other things.” He grins. “Like the mints.”

My mouth waters as if I’ve been trained Pavlovian-style, and I have to swallow down the saliva collecting in my mouth.

“How did you get it so fast?”

“I drove down to the PO box I have at the base of the mountain. That’s where I had everything delivered.”

My heart squeezes, and I pull the robe against me, looking down at it. He did all that for me? I clutch the fabric and fight off a wave of tears stinging my eyes. I’ve cried with this man too much already, and I don’t want him to think I’m weak.

I blink away the emotion before I look back up at him. He’s observing me carefully, and I know he knows I’m fighting back tears.

“Thank you.” I swallow again. “That was really thoughtful.”

“You’re welcome, baby. I told you I’m here to take care of you, and I meant that. Though…” His eyes flash down my body, the one still covered by the sheet. “I meant what I said last night, too. Eventually, I won’t allow you to have clothes on when it’s just you and me. I prefer to see what I own. So don’t get used to the robe.”

My sensitive nipples tighten into buds, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I know I’d be even more turned on by his words if my brain wasn’t focused on what he said—not only the reiteration that he owns me but that he also wants to do this again.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if this means that we’re dating or if seeing each other like this is simply casual or normal for this type of D/s relationship. I also want to know if he tells other submissives he owns them, even though their relationships don’t involve sex. But I don’t, because I’m not sure I’m ready for the answers, especially if they aren’t what I want to hear. Because, dammit, I think I’m falling for Dane. Not Logger Dane, not Dom Dane—just Dane.

“Well,” he says, taking off his glasses, which I’m guessing are readers. “Are you going to stay in bed, or did you want to do your routine and have breakfast before we go to your place?”

My brow furrows at the same time my heart speeds up. “We?”

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to spend the day with you.”

I think my heart fully stops in my chest. “I need to clean, and the projects—I don’t know if they are something you’d want to help with.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘we’ if I didn’t want to help you. I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he says.

I study his face a moment longer and know he’s really not joking. My shoulders ease, and I smile softly. “Are you doing this because you’ll get to nap with me?”

He chuckles. “It’s a bonus.”

“Don’t you have work?” I eye his computer, attempting to keep my face neutral.

“I did what I needed to do until tonight. But if you want, you can help me film a video or two later.”