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"Kate?" Drake leaned against the doorjamb. "You want to go somewhere?"
I shrugged and returned to the hotel room, walking past him, trying to avoid touching him. He followed me into the living room. I took the channel changer and switched on the television.
"Wonder what channels they get here?"
He sat on the couch, right in the middle, his arms outstretched on the back, just watching me as I stood and flipped through the lineup of shows.
"Come here," he said, his voice low. I turned and looked at him and he was so devastatingly beautiful in his white button-down shirt, open at the neck, his tan Dockers, black sandals. His hair was shiny and a bit wild, his jaw covered by a layer of stubble. I shrugged and put the channel changer down and went to him, sitting beside him. He patted his lap. "I mean here."
I sighed and climbed onto his lap, my hands resting on his shoulder. I bit my lip until it hurt to control my emotions.
"What?" I said.
"What's wrong?"
I shook my head. "I don’t know, Drake. I'm just not feeling this."
"What do you mean?" His eyes narrowed.
"This," I said pointing between us. "Submission. It's just not there. This feels too much like a traditional relationship. You know. Boyfriend / girlfriend."
"You seemed to enjoy yourself this morning."
"Yeah, but it was just ordinary sex. You rub my clit the right way and I'll come. I could do that with any man. There was nothing kinky about it." I raised my eyebrows. "Maybe we're just not working out. Now that we're alone, it's just not really," I said, searching for the word. "Exciting. Lara told me that sometimes, a Dom and sub just aren't compatible. You must really feel it. I just don't feel like we're the right match. I want to feel, I don't know… really possessed. I don't. It’s like, I can't even call you Sir and feel it. I mean, Nigel's a Sir. He's an actual Knight and I don’t even call him 'Sir'."
I watched him, his face changing in front of me. He didn’t say anything. He just looked in my eyes, blinking rapidly. His breathing increased a bit, but he said absolutely nothing.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I just don't feel it with you. You're really sweet, Drake. Maybe Lara has someone else who I won’t have any history with. Someone really anonymous. I might be able to feel it more with a stranger. You know how this works. What do you think?"
He said nothing, just looked in my eyes, his gaze moving over my face but his skin blanched.
Finally, he spoke, his voice controlled, low. Very calm. "I think you might be onto something."
I nodded. "I knew you'd understand. You've been doing this for a long time and have lots of experience. I already talked to my parents. I think I'll go back tomorrow morning, try to salvage a couple of days of my vacation."
"And this has nothing to do with the person trying to keep you from being with me?"
"No," I said and frowned. "Of course not. Like you said, we could just keep this agreement under wraps."
"Why did you sign the contract?"
"I have to admit I was a bit shocked by your contract, but I thought, you know, maybe I needed to just sign the damned thing and take a risk, give it a shot. But once I did, it was like all the thrill was gone. So maybe I expected more than I should have. You know, it was just straight sex after all."
I stood and went to my drink on the table. I took a long sip. He kept sitting there, his arms out on the back of the couch, watching me.
His face was pale under his tan, his mouth thin.
"Well, then," he said and stood, his body stiff. "I guess I'll go to the bar after all and meet my colleagues. Have a good trip home."
He left, taking his bag and shaving kit with him, closing the door behind him without another word.
I sat down on the floor and covered my mouth with my hands.
Later, after I sat with a cold washcloth over my eyes to bring down the redness from weeping, I met my dad and Elaine in the restaurant. I had to eat something and I had to show a brave face to the world so that they believed me when I insisted I wasn't upset. As I went by the bar, I glanced in and saw a group of people sitting around a table, recognizing the woman Drake had said was his co-author. I checked the table out quickly, but Drake wasn’t there. I walked by the front doors to the other side of the hotel where the restaurant was located and as I passed, I glanced out to the beach, which was about twenty feet away. Drake was standing there alone, watching the sunset, his hands in his pockets.
I hurried into the restaurant, my stomach nauseated, biting back tears. I didn’t know how I'd be able to eat. I sat with my parents and they were both pleased to see me, looks of concern still on their faces.
"Sweetheart, are you sure you're all right? You look a little pale. Your eyes are red. Were you crying?"
