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He’d clung to the vision he’d had at the age of seventeen. A young wine could taste good. There was nothing wrong with it, but something unique happened when a grape was placed in barrels and aged, put through a crucible of time.
I’m not a submissive, but I understand what they go through. Some people need the pain to find themselves, to find pleasure. They transform it into something new. It’s our duty and our joy to help them.
His British mentor had been talking about D/s, but perhaps there was more. Perhaps his own pain, his tragedy could be a trigger to propel him to something more. Something better.
Or perhaps it was simply the woman in his lap and her boundless heart that could make him want to be a better man.
“I miss my sister,” he admitted quietly.
“I know you do, baby.” Her arms tightened around him.
There in the quiet of the shower, surrounded by her warmth, he finally started to talk, to tell her everything.
Chapter Thirteen
Tiffany looked over at the man she was absolutely certain she was going to love until the day she died.
Sebastian was trying. He was currently attempting to do the dishes in their too close for a wheelchair kitchen. Watching him struggle was going to kill her. She wanted to barge in and take over, but she had to be patient with him.
Only hours before they’d cuddled together in the shower and he’d really talked to her about his life before and how he’d lost it. When they’d come out of the shower, he’d allowed her to dry him off and help him get dressed.
He hadn’t tried to get her in bed. That hurt a little, but she was being patient. After all, this was only day three.
“Damn it.” Sebastian’s deep voice broke through the quiet of the apartment.
She rushed in. “Are you okay?”
His eyes narrowed as he turned her way. “I’m fine. I nearly dropped the damn plate. It fell in my lap and now my slacks are wet.”
She grabbed a dishtowel and handed it his way. “I don’t mind doing the dishes.”
“You cooked. I clean.”
She held her hands up. “I know you like to keep the scales balanced, but this place wasn’t built for a wheelchair. You know the world doesn’t have to be perfectly even. I could cook and clean until you’re back on your feet and you could make it up to me in other ways.”
He stubbornly swiped the towel over his slacks. “What other way did you have in mind?”
“Sex. You could do dirty sex stuff to me.” Maybe she should have gone a little more subtle, but sometimes Sebastian needed a push.
He sat back in the chair. “Are you sure you want that? We could wait until I’m out of the chair. It shouldn’t be more than a few days until I can get in my legs again.”
“The doctor said at least a week, probably two.” She did not want to have this fight with him. Not after how lovely the afternoon had been.
“That’s not so long.”
She took a deep breath and started to turn to walk out.
He reached out, his hand nabbing her wrist. “It isn’t that I don’t want you. You had to have felt how much I want you.”
She had. He’d been so hard in the shower. She’d understood how awkward it would have been to make love then, but she’d expected him to order her to bed afterward. “I know you want me, but you don’t trust me. You can say it all day long, but you’re still expecting me to run. You still think I’m going to change my mind.”
“I’m nervous that I won’t be able to properly top you from this chair.”
“You did it with subs at The Garden.”
“It wasn’t the same,” he insisted. “I wasn’t having sex then. It was fairly simple to top submissives who had come to me for exactly that purpose. You’re different. You need me to be stronger than you in some cases. You need that little edge of threat to make it exciting.”
“That’s not true.”
