Page 118 of Axe Marks the Spot

I imagine filming Dane as DomInTheWoods, and I’m not going to lie, that sounds like fun. Especially since when I watch the videos he posts, I’ll secretly know I was the one who filmed them, who he was looking at while doing them. It calms this weird jealousy I’ve been feeling over a man I’m not sure is completely mine.

“Okay. But you can’t judge me for how messy my house is.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Then turn around, Sir. I need to put my robe on.”

Dane huffs a laugh, and I can tell he wants to challenge me over the not-watching bit, but he salutes me instead. “I’ll see you in the bathroom.” He points to it with the glasses in his hand.

When he’s out of sight, I flop back onto the pillows, pulling the soft fabric to rub on my cheek. I have no idea what I’m doing or why I agreed to let Dane into my home to help me clean and do projects of all things, but I can’t say I’m mad about it. I’m probably more excited than I should be.

36

Dane

“WELCOME TO MY HUMBLE abode,” Lindsey says as she lets me into her A-frame cabin. I step through the peeling wooden door behind her, my gaze taking in her space as I inhale what smells like her floral perfume mixed with cinnamon or something else just as sweet and spicy.

While I’m only seeing the living area and kitchen from this vantage point, it’s a beautiful home with a cozy feel. It’s the type of place I would have lived in had it not just been me. But as a single man, I didn’t need much space, so this isn’t a home I would have picked when I moved here.

“Sorry again about the mess,” Lindsey says sheepishly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

I look around and note that it isn’t messy, at least not to the eye. It looks lived in, but with the way she’s been warning me for the last couple of hours, I wondered if maybe she was a hoarder or something. The only “messes” I see are some dishes in the sink and stuff that could be straightened along with laundry that needs to be folded on the couch.

“Your home is beautiful,” I say, my eyes meeting hers. She shifts on her feet, hiking her purse over her shoulder and holding it in front of her. She’s in her dress from last night, which is wrinkled and dirty. I would have washed it if there had been time for it to air-dry overnight. I also offered her clean clothes of mine, but she refused, for whatever reason, and I didn’t want to push her more than I already have in the last few days.

While I would have loved to see her in my clothes, I do like seeing her in the clothes I punished her in. There’s also the fact that I didn’t give her her underwear back. Those, I told her I was keeping, and to my surprise, she just flushed and didn’t ask again.

“Um, thanks.” She smiles shyly. “Why don’t you make yourself at home on the couch, and I’ll go change.”

I almost order her to stay in her dirty dress so I can watch her clean and bend over in it, but I want her to be comfortable, especially since this is my first time in her home, and I essentially invited myself over. I nod, and she runs off, her cute ass jiggling with the fabric of her dress as she runs up the stairs. I wait until she disappears from my sight before I walk around her space.

The home is casual and cozy, as I observed initially. It’s fairly simple, not a lot of decor, but it’s definitely lived in. There are shoes and coats by the door as well as a couple of umbrellas. Above a fireplace that looks as if it’s never been used is a large family photo that’s professionally done.

I walk over to it so I can get a closer look. Lindsey and Kas are in the middle, while Nathan and a woman I’m going to assume is their mom stand on either side of them. They’re all smiling, and the picture must’ve been snapped last year, since Kas looks a bit younger than she does now.

I focus my attention on the central mother/daughter pair. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought more about what my life would be like with the two of them in it in the last twenty-four hours. It would be different, and it would no longer be only me and the quiet of the woods.

I’d have a family to take care of, and that would mean things in my life would need to change—not just in my day-to-day but with my clients. I don’t think Lindsey is the type of person to ask me to give up being a Pro Dom, but I would do it not just for her but for all of us. Especially if she truly wants to wear my training collar.

The idea of that alone gives me a greater peace than I’ve ever known. The concept strikes me deeply. I never thought I’d want to give someone any kind of collar, much less share my space with someone and their daughter. But the image of Lindsey wearing one I gave her hasn’t left my mind since she told me the idea excited her.

We haven’t spoken of it yet, but she said she’s mine, and I believe her. Not only did our scene together last night prove it to me, but her complete and utter submission to me did as well, even more so during her aftercare.

I don’t think she remembers much of what happened after I brought her to my room, but in her half-asleep state, she gave her full trust to me. I cleaned her up, made her drink water, and put soothing arnica cream on the places where I knew she’d be sore in the morning. Afterward, I pulled her into my arms, and she fell asleep easily, her soft body pressed to mine as I whispered praise in her ear.

I stayed up as long as I could force myself to. I watched her breathing, studied the blond highlights in her hair and the faint laugh lines around her mouth. In rest, Lindsey was completely at peace. There was no anxiety or stress on her features; she was simply herself. And if I hadn’t known it before, I knew, at that moment, our night together wasn’t our last. I knew I’d do anything for her, because even without completely realizing it, Lindsey is changing my life for the better.

I guess Levi was right all along. His words were different, and his idea of fun isn’t exactly mine, but the more time I spend with Lindsey and Kas, the more I see I needed to get out from behind my computer, step out of the woods, and start building real connections. More specifically, a connection with a curvy, smart-mouthed, brown-eyed nurse. One I plan to collar soon—a training collar, sure, but in my mind, it’s still a promise of commitment.

“Oh god.” Lindsey’s groan cuts through my thoughts.

I adjust so I can see her come down the last few steps until she’s standing next to me. She’s changed into a blue-and-white striped tank top and pair of jean shorts, her hair is up in a ponytail, and she’s put a tiny bit of makeup on. She doesn’t need it, but whatever she’s done highlights her brown eyes, round cheeks, and plush lips.

My gaze travels to her bare neck, and I wonder if she’d be open to wearing a day collar, too, one that only she and I would know the significance of.

“My mom made us take that picture last year since we didn’t have any without my ex. Then for Christmas, she gave me the big version, and I would’ve felt bad not hanging it.”

“It’s a nice picture,” I say.