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She’d been quiet on the ride back, and she looked a little lost, almost as if she was unsure of what would come next now that they were back in the real world.
Because you didn’t tell her what you were thinking, jackass. All the talking you did, and none of it a conversation about what you see for a future together. He grabbed her bags and followed her up the stairs, waiting as she unlocked the door, his brain scrambling to come up with the right words to tell her how he felt.
“I, uh...”
“Kitten, I...”
They both laughed, though hers was soft and rueful.
“You first.” She took off her jacket and hung it on the rack in the hallway. The rack that still gave him all kinds of ideas about tying Becca up, even now. Especially now. She hesitated, then held out her hand for his jacket.
His heart twisted at her tentative actions. He could feel her slipping away from him, and he wasn’t sure what to do to halt her retreat. “Stay with me at my place tonight. I have to work tomorrow, but I want you to stay with me.”
She worried her lip. “I don’t know if that’s such a —”
He cut her off before she could say it, a sudden sense of panic making him blurt the bald truth. “I want you, Rebeccah. In my house, in my bed, in my life.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
Christ. “Yeah, I do.”
“But you didn’t say...” She turned bright red, but squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “You made me come more times than I can count, and that was amazing. But you didn’t say you wanted any more from me than that, and you only had sex with me once. I thought...no. I didn’t know what to think.”
And that would be why, before Becca, he’d always hesitated to date women who weren’t part of this lifestyle. Not that it was a game to him, but they understood the rules and the way Doms liked to play. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t understand, it was his. He knew she wasn’t experienced, not with sex and definitely not with D/s. Obviously, she’d taken not yet as not ever again, and that was on him. “I did have sex with you, and more than once. With my mouth and my hands and my dick.” He paused, took a deep breath and jumped in with both feet. “And kitten? It’s not just sex with you. It’s making love. All of it.”
Her mouth widened into a wide O, but no sound came out except for a husky, indrawn breath.
He grabbed her hand, tugging her to the living room. “You’re speechless. I don’t
believe it.”
She grinned fleetingly and smacked him on the shoulder, then placed her hand against his heart. “That’s how it is for me, too, though I’m sure you already figured that out.”
He hadn’t, but he’d damned sure hoped. He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs against the column of her neck. He raised a brow at her. “So what did you think, that I made you come over and over again so I wouldn’t have to have sex with you?”
She dropped her head and his gut started to ache. He’d been teasing, but apparently he wasn’t far off the mark. His throat got tight, his muscles tighter, and his temper balanced on a razor’s edge. “All that time we spent together, and you were worried about that? Jesus, did you even enjoy any of it?”
Her head flew up, her eyes ripe with dismay. “I loved everything we did. But what was I supposed to think when you kept telling me no and not yet? I still don’t know why you did that.”
He stepped back, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck.
“Jeremy?”
His stomach was still sour, and he had to work to put calm in his voice. He wasn’t mad at Becca. He was ticked off at himself. As a Dom—as her Dom—he was responsible for her well-being, both physically and mentally. “I fucked up. I thought you understood, but I should’ve made sure you did. My fault, kitten.”
She got right into his personal space, her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing. “And it’s mine for not asking you to explain. I should’ve, instead of keeping it all inside. Now we’re even, so can we move past this to the explanation? Please?”
He nearly smiled, even though his heart ached that she’d been so worried. He loved the way she stood up to him, giving as good as she got, and wasn’t that what he’d always wanted in a woman? Someone who would get on her knees for him in the bedroom but would have no problems telling him he was being a jerk.
Before he could tell her that, before he could explain, there was a heavy knock on the door. He looked over at Becca. “You expecting anyone?” When she shook her head, he went to the door and looked through the window. His jaw cranked tight. Just what they needed. “I think it’s your ex.”
“What?” She went for the door but he drew her back with an arm around her waist. “Wait, babe. Let me answer it.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because I don’t trust him.” He skimmed his knuckles down her cheek. “Wait here. Please.”
Another knock. “Open the door, Rebeccah. I want to talk to you. I know you’re home.”
