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I would have to handle this situation the same way I had with all the women before her. When they looked at me, they saw a challenge, like a pawn that could easily be taken in a chess game with the right move, behavior, or sexual act. I was an emotional conquest to them.
She wasn’t the first to dismiss my firm stance that the relationship would only remain sexual in nature. It wasn’t about my lack of affection. I would compliment them on their beauty, kiss them tenderly, comfort them when they were upset, dine them, and then fuck them senseless. It was always about those three fucking words. The power they felt it gave them. The power I refused to give.
Though a few of them had sometimes charmed their way into getting more than I usually would allow, I always caught myself quickly. It was a conscious choice I made with each partner. I had been fair to Jill. I had been a committed lover to her and her alone. I had given her everything I promised I would.
She swept her long auburn hair into her hand and fastened it on top of her head as she walked toward me. “All I wanted was a chance,” she whispered with pleading eyes, her tears falling down one by one. “I’m in love with you, Rhys.” Her eyes told me she believed what she was saying.
“I’m not the man you need,” I said quietly. “I can’t give you what you want.”
She had mistaken my kindness and attentiveness for weakness, as a sign I harbored the same feelings. She had decided to make me her project. She’d made a big mistake.
“You have no heart?” she asked, cornering me as she tucked her blouse in her pants. “You can’t try or you won’t? Why don’t you need more?” She was beautiful, smart, a good sub, but I felt nothing real for her.
“It’s just not who I am, Jill. Not right now.” Her shoulders slumped as her body shook with emotion. Though I wanted to comfort her, I knew it would be a mistake. She would misinterpret it, and I didn’t want to drag this out. “I won’t ask you to stay, but I want you to,” I lied as I pulled on my jacket.
She opened the door to walk out of the room then turned to me, regret clear in her posture.
“Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” she pleaded.
“Jill, I’m not the man you need. This doesn’t have to end. We can continue—”
&nbs
p; “I can’t, Rhys. Goodbye.”
Watching her walk out left me with a small sting. It was more out of resentment for the amount of time I spent with her. We’d never had a connection other than physical. Anything she was feeling was just due to the amount of time we’d spent together sexually. Of all my subs, she was the one I felt least strongly about. I was certain she was hoping I would go after her.
I wouldn’t.
Once I’d situated my tie, I headed toward the door, but was stopped short by a beautiful woman filling the frame.
“It’s a pity when they fall in love,” she said on a sigh. “You know, fighting after fucking is a sign that you care for the person.”
“I wasn’t fighting,” I admitted.
“No, you certainly weren’t,” she quickly replied with a smirk. We stood and stared at one another, both of us sizing each other up. It had been a long time since the sight of a woman made me hard. I appreciated that about her immediately. Her dark brown hair, closer to black, a sleek porcelain face and startling blue eyes made me want to fuck her right then. I imagined a few scenarios in my head as I perused her. She was far more beautiful than any sub I had ever had. Her body was made for sin and she was aware of it; her posture said as much with the way she leaned in the doorway confidently. This was a woman aware of her effect on men and comfortable with her sexuality. I liked her instantly.
“She looked like she was a lot of fun,” she said, tilting her head quickly in the direction Jill left.
“Not today,” I said, closing the distance between us. There was no denying the attraction we both felt in that moment. The air was filled with potential. She turned from me and opened the door at the opposite end of the hall. She looked back, catching my gaze then giving me a knowing smile, which I returned. “Sandra,” she answered my unspoken question before the door snapped shut.
It would not be our last encounter, of that I was sure.
Looking at my watch with a curse, I realized I had thirty minutes to get to dinner with my sister. I raced to the Olde Pink House, her favorite place to dine in Savannah. It was her birthday and she had just been released by her boyfriend, so I agreed to take his place. My dear sister Heidi was always throwing her heart out to the wrong suitor. I felt like a hypocrite stepping in when I had just hurt Jill. I had a heart, but Jill would never be the woman to possess it. Letting Jill walk away was for the best.
The Olde Pink House was located in Reynolds Square. True to its name, it was an old, pale flamingo, Victorian mansion that had been converted into a restaurant. Authentic to its historic bones, the décor was reminiscent of the 1800’s and the rooms were quaint, each unique in setting.
Arriving on time, I spent ten minutes circling the square looking for parking. When I finally made it up to the steps to the entrance, I received a text.
HEIDI: Running late. Can you see if they can squeeze us in at the next available time?
Standing behind a couple waiting on the hostess, I was suddenly annoyed with my sister and her inability to be on time. I didn’t want to be stuck in a romantic restaurant with my sister. I hoped they would nix the antique candlesticks on the table this time. I despised the bastard who had left her dateless and heartbroken on her birthday, and for the responsibility of salvaging her night. A night I was sure she had planned herself due to the type of man she usually adhered herself too.
I was definitely a hypocrite and this punishment was fitting. This punishment also reinforced the reasons why I didn’t want to go further than sex when it came to a relationship. Clean lines were appealing; blurred lines were messy. End of story.
“It’s perfect, thank you.” The voice came from the woman who stood in front of me addressing her date and her sound instantly caught my attention. It was silky and raspy and her sentiment hung in the air. I watched their hands clasp and his thumb gently slide across the top of her skin. She looked up at him filled with longing and I had to take a step back. I felt like I was invading on a private moment, and yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. I took her in from head to toe. She was dressed in a long flowing red gown and her hair was styled loosely and fell sporadically around her shoulders. Her neck was statuesque and I suddenly felt myself wanting to touch it as I studied her profile. Her skin was perfection. Her mouth, from what I could see, was beautiful, and when she spoke I had to fight not to take another step forward.
What the fuck, Rhys?
