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“I appreciate that, but that’s only…” She shakes her head. “Never mind. I just think it’s better if I leave. I’m perfectly capable of getting on a plane by myself and flying back to New York. I want you to stay, Ronan. Visit with your grandmother. Enjoy your old stomping grounds.”
This makes no sense. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No. You’ve been a perfect gentleman.”
“Maybe that’s the issue.”
She lets out a nervous chuckle. “No, that’s not the issue at all. I have to tell you that I think a scene with you would be…fucking amazing. I think you could take me places I’ve never been. But I don’t see that future for us, Ronan.”
Even I am shocked at how fiercely I feel the dagger of her words puncture my heart. “Why not? I get that you had a bad experience. I understand this isn’t easy for you. I get that it’s going to take time for you to get back into the club scene. I’m willing to wait, Mary, because I think you might be my perfect submissive.”
She sighs. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Ronan”—she clears her throat—“I will never be your perfect submissive.”
“I disagree.”
She draws in a breath. “My God, you’re going to make me spell it out for you, aren’t you?”
“I’m not going to make you do anything, Mary.”
“Ronan—”
“Give me one day. Spend the day with me—and the night—and then tomorrow morning, if you still want to leave, I will personally put you on a plane to New York.”
She takes a bite of beignet, chews, swallows, and wipes an adorable smudge of sugar from her chin. “You’re not making this easy. The fact is that I want to stay.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She clams up.
I don’t know what’s truly bothering her, and I think it’s time she was honest with me.
“Tell me,” I say. “Tell me about the scene that went bad.”
Her cheeks redden.
“It wasn’t anything terrible,” she says. “I’ve told you that much. But it happened because the Dominant I was playing with was beginning to have feelings for a woman.”
“A woman other than you, I assume?”
She nods. “Yeah. He and I are just friends.”
“Still?”
“Yes, of course. He’s a good guy. He was so apologetic. He felt terrible about what happened. He took excellent care of me afterward.”
Okay, that all makes sense. But I’m still missing some pieces to this puzzle. “What are your hard limits, Mary?”
“Edge play, of course.”
“Edge play means different things to different people.”
“Gunplay. Breath play. Blood sports.”
“I don’t engage in any of those, either,” I say.
