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I stop pacing. “She’s so happy that you’ve found someone.”
“And?”
“You didn’t find someone,” I unthinkingly blurt out. “It’s all a lie, and I’m a part of it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I really thought I could do it,” I tell him. “Until she told me that I’m a part of your family now, and it just hit me.”
“What are you trying to say?” he asks, enraged, making his way across the room as I silence the record player.
“You and your damn soft melodies.”
“Are you done?” he growls, eyes wide.
“Done?”
“With us?”
Looking up at him, I sneer. “Are we breaking up?”
“Give it up. Tell me what you want.” He moves closer, his face mere inches from mine. “Tell me what you want, Sasha, and I’ll give it to you. Anything. Anything you fucking want. Tell me.”
His deep, soothing voice makes me weak. Time seems to stop and a hurricane of emotions sweep through me. The feeling this man gives me leaves me helpless, so helpless it has me questioning everything. Going from living as a prostitute, who makes the rules, to a Submissive, who obeys the rules, has been a huge challenge for me. This is not me, and I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay with this.
This last week has been much more than I had bargained for. It’s been a battle of not allowing this experience to change who I am, how I am, and I don’t know if I can do this anymore.
“I want to leave,” I murmur.
His face instantly softens, and his lips part. “Don’t.”
As soon as I begin to turn away, his fingers lock around my wrist, and he pulls me against his chest.
“You can’t.”
“Of course, I can,” I argue, glaring up at him. “You even said so yourself. This contract can be terminated at any time.”
He grimaces, loosening his grasp on my wrist, as I draw back my arm. “This is it, then?” Jaxon stares angrily into my eyes. “You’re leaving because of guilt?”
I hold my breath, disordered.
“Great,” he huffs. “Un-fucking-believable.”
“Will you stop swearing at me?”
He laughs, running his hand through his hair. “I’m angry.”
“Well, that makes two of us. You brought me into this mess.”
“Don’t you dare,” he snaps, defensive. “You gave me your consent. I didn’t force you to sign your name. You wanted this. You were begging for this.”
“Begging?” I repeat, laughing from frustration. “I was not begging.”
“You jumped at this opportunity, Sasha.”
“Do I look like I’m still jumping?”
His eyes turn to slits, and he folds his arms across his chest. “You do understand, that by you terminating our contract, you’re still going to be hurting my mother, correct?”
