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Elizabeth smiled, able now to see the features of the boy in the photos in the face of the man he’d grown to become.
“You were telling me about a car?” he reminded her, and she again lowered her eyes, feeling her body betraying her once again as her face heated and she squirmed, keenly aware of his touch against her skin.
“The limousine,” she whispered as the scene bloomed once more in her mind.
“The limo… ahhh,” he said, softly.
She briefly lifted her head and saw his recognition of the moment. She quickly dropped her eyes again.
“I see, though I don’t believe we are talking about the actual car, are we?”
Elizabeth shook her head, her hands shaking slightly as she lifted her mug to her lips.
“Though you obviously saw us, I did not see you, Miss Adams,” he said, softly. “I admit I was only focused on Carol. While I understand you might have been a little shocked, I have to say it surprises me to see the incident seems to upset and embarrass you. As a submissive, I would think you would be accustomed to, even if not condoning, the right of a Dominant to provide what he believes is necessary or desired with a submissive under his authority.”
Elizabeth wondered what it was about her that had yet another man she barely had interacted with so easily able to identify her as a submissive woman. Perhaps it was an innate characteristic of Dominants. Whatever it was, she knew he was right. She also knew she could continue to allow him to think she was shocked, but she would be lying by omission if she didn’t clarify her true feelings. As embarrassed as she might be, she understood he was concerned that perhaps her working on his parents’ very personal project would not be either beneficial or even proper. If she didn’t have the courage to be open and honest with the one man sitting across from her, how would she ever be able to effectively communicate with hundreds of people she hoped to, one day, be hostessing?
She took a deep breath to fortify herself and set her mug on the trunk that served as her coffee table. She met his eyes as she slowly drew her feet off his lap. Logan didn’t protest, simply watched as she curled her legs under her and waited. Elizabeth appreciated his allowing her to collect herself, his patience another attribute she valued.
“I was neither upset nor embarrassed,” she said, so softly he had to strain to hear her. When he leaned forward a bit, she spoke a little louder. “I found the scene to be incredibly erotic—a beautiful woman, a handsome man, shutting out their surroundings and being able to focus on just that moment. I had never truly considered it before,” she said, and then gave him a soft smile.
“Well, that’s not exactly true. I’ve seen women getting their bottoms smacked in all sorts of locations, with all types of people around. I just never thought of something so intimate being done so openly, and yet so subtly that you had to be in just the right position to realize what was happening. I was surprised, as it was the first time I’d seen a scene conducted outside of a club. It was not the least bit frightening. It was beautiful.”
She paused for a moment. “I called you the Limo Man,” she said, and smiled at the memory. “I often fantasized about what must have happened when the door closed. Seeing you tonight, in the setting of your home, well, it threw me. I was terrified you’d been aware of my intrusion and was afraid of embarrassing you in some way.”
Wanting him to understand how important this was to her, she dared to look at him directly. “I apologize, but please don’t feel I am not excited about working with your parents. They are both wonderful people, and I not only admire them for their honesty in what they desire, I envy them the deep connection they seem to have. You are a very lucky son to have grown up with such love in your home.”
“Limo Man, huh?” he said, his lips curling up into a smile. He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. “That makes me sound like I should be out repossessing cars.”
She giggled and then slapped her hand over her mouth. When she regained control, she explained. “I’m sorry, but that made me picture you dressed in overalls, sneaking up the driveway in the middle of the night and hotwiring some car, praying to get away before an angry man runs out to take a shot at you.”
He grinned and shook his head. “That’s just great,” he said. “Instead of seeing me all handsome and mysterious, the next time you honor me with a place in your fantasy, I’ll be not only covered in grease and smelling of burnt wires, I’ll most likely have a bullet hole in my ass.”
This time, she completely lost control. She laughed so hard she bent forward, her arms wrapped around her stomach. After a couple of minutes, Elizabeth gasped for breath, her sides aching, when she finally managed to look up at him.
He was smiling, though shaking his head. “While that was the most open I’ve seen you, I ought to turn you over my lap,” he said, and she giggled once before her eyes grew wide when he reached for her.
She gasped when instead of drawing her over his lap, he simply dropped his hand to trace a fingertip along her arm.
“But not tonight,” he said, and she had to concentrate on not allowing her disappointment to show on her face. “You have been extremely open and honest with me; it is time I returned the honor,” he said, and Elizabeth feared that despite his words, he was offended.
“Please,” she said quickly, “I really do apologize for intruding where I didn’t belong. It really is none of my business. If you want, I will apologize to your sub as well.”
“Miss Adams,” he said softly, “that is a wonderful gesture but not necessary. I do not have a submissive under me. In fact, I haven’t partnered with a woman on any sort of permanent basis in quite some time.”
“But I saw her,” she said, having a difficult time believing his words.
“You’ll find that I am an honest man,” he continued. “I have very little tolerance for ambiguity or deceit of any kind. Carol is a submissive who is undergoing training. That evening, her task was to maintain the sub role outside the club. When she first came to the club for classes, she was an insecure woman who was striving to find her way to embrace her need to submit. She had been in a few relationships where submission was not truly under her control. In other words, she partnered with some real assholes who readily took advantage of her need to submit, without considering it the gift that it is. Fortunately, a friend of mine gave her the club’s training brochure and she came to us. She had done very well at dinner but had earned a quick reprimand. That is what you saw outside the restaurant.”
Elizabeth listened carefully and could hear the depth of caring and truth in his voice. Her stomach tingled when he had said he had no sub of his own, experiencing a sense of loss when he admitted he didn’t let himself get involved in long-term relationships.
“Do you understand?” he asked, quietly. “I’m only explaining because I do not want you to feel you need to make any additional apologies or feel any guilt about what you witnessed.”
Elizabeth nodded slowly. “I submitted to a spanking because I felt so guilty,” she said, almost as if talking to herself. “I keep imagining what happened later… when the door closed. I dreamed about it.”
Logan bent forward and took her hands from where she had been kneading them together on her lap. She gave a soft moan as he slowly formed his fingers around hers, entwining them. She looked up at him, gaining comfort from the gesture.
“Since we are familiar, at least in our dreams, I will address you as Elizabeth,” he said, softly.
