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We ate scrambled eggs at the table, looking pretty domestic in our respective robe and pajama bottoms. It was strange, but I felt like I’d known Dallon for longer than I had, and now we were a couple. Living together. I shook my head in wonder. So much had happened in the last month. It seemed completely crazy, but felt entirely natural.
“How about we go to the gym this morning?” Dallon asked. “We’ll get your membership all sorted out.”
I grumbled a noncommittal response while I pushed around my eggs.
He chuckled. “You go to the gym with me this morning, and the rest of the day we’ll do whatever you want.”
Dallon’s gym wasn’t just any gym. The lobby was all gleaming wood and granite and felt more like a spa. Dallon signed me up for a membership while I stood awkwardly beside him. A friendly woman gave me a key for my locker and offered me a tour of the facilities, but I turned it down, preferring to get my workout over with.
When I found my locker, which was thankfully in a private corner, there was a pair of sandals and a robe in it. Like the lobby, all the counters were made of marble, and around almost every corner was a couch or lounger, bowls of fresh fruit on the table beside them. Pink razors were lined up on a towel by the sink, as well as various hair styling products and body lotions.
I quickly changed and first entered the pool area by mistake before finding the gym. I spotted a group of stationary bikes and made my way toward them. I’d always felt comfortable on the bikes, whereas the other machines intimidated me. This time, however, luck was not on my side; I’d never used this type of bike before, and I couldn’t figure out how to adjust the seat. My face flushed red as I struggled with the knob. Could I make it any more obvious that I never went to the gym?
“Need help with that?”
I looked up to see a trainer smiling at me. He had longish dirty blonde hair and blue eyes and he was super built. Wow. “Um, yeah. I was trying to lower the seat.”
He laughed. “I saw that. Are you new here?”
“Pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
He grinned. “I can take you on the tour if you’d like. It’s complimentary for everyone that joins. We also have a complimentary training session that I can sign you up for.”
“Um, sure. About the session, anyway.”
“Great.” He pulled a tablet out of his pocket. “What time works better, during the day or night?”
I had a lot of free time these days, so I said, “How about during the day. Doesn’t matter when.”
“How about Friday at 4?”
I agreed and he took down my name and phone number. Then he put out his hand and introduced himself as Todd, that grin taking up half his face. My hand disappeared in his.
“Now, let’s get this bike working for you. Straddle it and I’ll adjust the seat to your height.”
“I’ll take care of it,” a voice said behind me.
I turned around and saw Dallon standing there with his arms crossed. He was glistening and wearing a tight shirt that accentuated his arms. Somehow he managed to make Todd look plain in comparison.
Before Todd or I could say anything, he leaned forward and twisted the knob to lower the seat.
“Hey man, I’m Todd.” Todd put out his hand.
Dallon only glanced at it, his hand on the bike seat. “Bye, Todd.”
Todd raised an eyebrow before turning to me again. “I’ll see you on Friday, Amy,” he said and walked away.
“Friday?” Dallon frowned.
“Yeah, I have a training session with him,” I said, climbing onto the seat. “Comes free with the membership. You didn’t have to be rude to him.”
“I can help you train.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not even that interested; it just felt rude to turn it down.”
Dallon’s eyes narrowed as he got on the bike next to me. He cycled in silence for a moment and then leaned over to whisper in my ear, “You look hot in tight clothes.”
I couldn’t help but smile, my frustration leaving me. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
The moment was ruined, however, when he said, “That dude wanted to put his hand between your legs.”
“He did not!” I glared at him, flushing.
Dallon smirked. “I don’t blame him. You don’t want to know what’s going through my mind right now.”
He was right; I didn’t. I ignored him and looked up at the TV. There was some sort of survivor type show on and a lady was sitting in a container full of worms. I shuddered and looked away.
I rode the bike for 30 minutes and then told Dallon I was done. He tried to coax me onto the treadmill and when I refused, seemed disappointed but relented.
“It’s your day. I’ll meet you in the lobby after your shower,” he said before flipping his towel over his shoulder and leaning down to give me a quick kiss.
Back in the dressing room, I put my robe on over my workout gear and made my way to the showers. As I grabbed a towel off the shelf, a tall woman with long, brown hair passed me with a friendly smile. My heart leapt into my throat. For some reason, she reminded me of the woman I’d seen in the first photograph, the one with her arms bound behind her back. I spun around, but she continued walking away, her long hair swaying across her back.
I entered the nearest shower cubicle and closed the frosted glass door before collapsing onto the bench, my head in my hands. Of course she hadn’t been the same woman, I knew that—but the memories of the pictures came tumbling back. I couldn’t ignore them any longer. What was I thinking, spending the day with a man that enjoyed tying women up and taking pictures of them?
Shaking, I stood and turned on the shower before pulling off my sweaty clothes. I hadn’t allowed myself to truly process what I’d learned the night before; my feelings for Dallon had gotten in the way the moment he’d kissed me.
There were two things I knew for certain. The first was that Dallon was completely messed up. The second was that I was falling for him.
In the shower, I pressed my forehead against the cool tiles as the warm water hit my back. It was too hot, but I didn’t move; I let it continue to pelt me, as if enduring the heat could somehow atone for what I’d done last night.
I’d slept with him. I’d discovered the skeletons in his closet, and instead of running for the hills like any normal young woman would do, I’d let him seduce me. I’d also had the only orgasm I’d ever had during sex.
Again, what did that say about me?
That you’re messed up, too, came the reply.
Dallon had told me—shown me—what he wanted from me last night, and I knew that like usual, he was going to get what he wanted. Not only was I at risk for becoming homeless and heartbroken, my self-esteem could be left in tatters from pleasing him by letting him tie me up or whatever else it was he wanted to do with me.
Unable to stand the heat any longer, I turned the dial to warm and pumped shampoo into my hand, lathering it into my hair roughly. Dallon was a good lover, and he knew it. He used sex as a weapon. Even if he hadn’t carried out his plan, he’d still managed to sleep with me and make me forget everything I’d learned about him.
By the time I got out of the shower and had toweled off and pulled on my robe, I was in a dark mood. I stood at the makeup counter closest to my locker and blow dried my hair, scowling at my reflection. I looked tiny in the large robe, young. And I was young; too young to be dealing with someone like Dallon King. My eyes looked too large in my face as if spending the last few days with him had lost me a dress size.
Dallon was waiting for me in the lobby when I came out. He stood up when he saw me, a large smile on his face. My stoma
ch did somersaults.
He frowned slightly as I walked toward him. “Everything okay?”
“Yep.” I continued past him toward the door and he leaned forward, pushed it open for me.
“Thanks,” I muttered, frustrated that he was still playing the chivalrous gentleman.
In the car, he watched as I buckled my seatbelt, a frown on his lips. He didn’t ask what was wrong; instead, he put the car into gear and asked, “Where would you like to go for lunch?”
“I don’t care,” I said sulkily. I knew I was acting childish, but his refusal to acknowledge I was annoyed was making me more annoyed.
“I know a great seafood place,” he said cheerily, pulling swiftly out of the parking spot as “The Funeral” by Band of Horses began to play. It felt very apt, like I was waiting for the death of us before we even began.
Chapter Seventeen
“I’ve been thinking about what happened last night.”
“I thought as much. It was only a matter of time.”
It was interesting to be on the other side of things: the interviewer rather than the interviewee. Across the table, Dallon looked wary, his lips resting against steepled fingers. It was almost as if he was praying I would say what he wanted to hear.
“I don’t have as much experience as you,” I began, “but I do know a few things from what I’ve heard.” I took a deep breath before continuing. “Are you a sadist?”
He sat back, looking wounded. “Do you know the definition of a sadist?”
“Someone that likes to hurt other people.”
“No, Amy, I am not a sadist. A sadist is someone whose sexual gratification depends on causing pain to others. I do not see myself as cruel.”
I bit my lip. “So you’re not into whipping people or any of that S&M stuff?”
“You’re thinking of people wearing leather and whipping each other.” He waited for me to nod before continuing. “No, I am not into that. I am not into mainstream sex for the most part, but I am not into pain.”
“But you spanked me.”
He sighed. “I would say I’m into exploring the line between pleasure and pain, but not at the level you think.”
