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"Really?" He shifted closer. "That's new. What changed?"
"Your heroism impressed me."
"All part of my diabolical plan," he said, but he touched her cheek, his expression serious. "Julie."
She pressed into the contact briefly, then stepped back and took his hand. She liked holding his hand, for practical purposes as much as other reasons. She could somewhat control him touching her elsewhere, because she didn't think clearly when he was doing that.
"Let's keep it as friends, until I know how I feel about what you do with other subs. That just feels right to me. I don't want to talk about it, because we've talked about it enough. This is something I have to figure out from the heart. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah. So does this."
Okay, so maybe she couldn't keep him from touching her whenever, however he wanted. When he bent and put cold, damp lips on hers, she knew she couldn't get close to him without getting wet herself, but after two seconds she didn't care. She curled one set of fingertips over his bare shoulder, the other hooking into the waistband of his jeans and the elastic of the wet boxers. His hipbone pressed against her knuckles.
As he kissed her, the sunshine warmed her body outside as he warmed her inside. He cupped her face, fingers tunneling in her hair below her barrette. He drew it over her shoulder to stroke.
When he lifted his head, she stared into his eyes. What she saw there made her wonder if she wasn't the only one rocked by what happened
between the two of them whenever they did that. He kept his tone light, though, as if he knew how easily spooked she could be.
"Until opening night, then," he said.
Chapter Six
Despite staying insanely busy for the next few days and avoiding Des the couple times he came to the theater to go over his scene with Harris, it preyed on her mind. She wasn't going to be able to wait until opening night to resolve it. Or maybe she just wanted to get the letdown over sooner rather than later.
When he tied up another submissive, touched her, and became aroused by her responses the way he had with Julie, she wouldn't be able to handle that. No matter what she'd rationalized, she knew it was far different from watching two actors kiss during a play.
She really wasn't amused by the term rope bunny anymore.
Despite Billie Dee-Lite's taunt about that "branding," she couldn't trust herself to believe Des's possessiveness that day was anything more than his natural protectiveness and pride in the integrity of his craft. He'd have reacted the same way if another of his submissives was the one who'd been nearly lynched.
And she was so certain of that because of the damned intuition that Madison had praised. Des was funny, kind and sexy, and made her feel wonderful. But there was a wall inside him. A wall that suggested his only interest was exploring her submission and enjoying some friendly pleasure together.
She wasn't wired that way. She wished to God she was, because it was obvious Des was more than capable of giving a girl a great time. But if she was going to have sex without love, she'd have it with her vibrator, not with a living human being who could fuck with her head in the worst ways.
She wasn't going to make it awkward for him. She'd summon up the courage and figure out a way to confirm her suspicions without sounding like she was asking for more than he wanted to give. Then she could walk away with her dignity intact. Sure. Piece of cake.
She should do it by phone, because it was impossible when she was with him. But each time she picked up the phone, she'd remember him standing behind her at the Conservatory, his breath on her throat. Or him bringing her to orgasm on the stage, his gaze riveted upon her. The aftercare he'd done, wrapping a blanket and himself around her, holding her, calling her love. Him swimming in a polluted pond to rescue a boy's boat, his pleased expression when he saw the boat free and the boy's relief. His hair slicked back on his head and body shivering slightly in the cool air.
"You do not seem like the Taylor Swift type to me."
"Hmm? What?" She broke out of her absorption to see Harris studying her with a peculiar look on his face.
"You're humming 'Today Was A Fairytale.'" Light dawned in his expression. "You're thinking about Des, aren't you? Spiderman. His subs always seem to get that starry-eyed look when they have sessions planned with him."
What a perfect way to underscore a point, like a dull edged knife sawing through her middle. "Des and I aren't like that," she said with forced casualness. "He showed me some rope stuff once, so I'd understand it better here. I'm just happy we're on schedule and things are unfolding so well for the performance."
Harris gave her a dubious look but moved off the topic and back to the dry tech run they had coming up tonight, when their student stage hands finished their classes for the day.
She had no one to blame but herself for his or anyone else's doubts, including her own. But that was the final straw. She'd visit Des at his work. He couldn't do anything to overwhelm her defenses at work, right?
It was time to get to the bottom of this in whatever convoluted, awkward way was needed. God help her, and poor Des. He'd be glad she was walking away. The thought only made things worse, but also confirmed what she kept telling herself. Her heart could refuse to listen, but her brain knew the truth.
She needed to abstain from romantic relationships of any kind. Period. Otherwise this hamster wheel of redundant emotion would drive her to insanity.
Julie pulled up to the job site. Harris had fortunately known where Des was working today so she hadn't had to alert him with a text. While she told herself she wasn't going to lose her resolve, now that she was here, faced with the actual task of having the discussion, it seemed more daunting. And ludicrous. She'd had an overreaction fueled by too much thinking and her dysfunctional and overly dramatic personality.
Being confronted with an army of men working on the new construction site didn't help. Their pickups and vans clustered around the house like a drive-in movie. Hammering, sawing, power tools and men's voices created a drone like bees around a hive.
