20. Victor

Chapter twenty

Victor

A pparently, I like torture because that’s what I’m going through right now. From the moment Olivia opened her door to this very moment of her making delicious noises while eating the chicken parm I made. I endure it though because I’ve never seen her so relaxed and at ease. I’m sure I’m getting to see a side of her no one else gets to see and I’m loving every second. Although I am regretting my choice of pants. She finally puts her fork down and sits back, taking a sip of the chardonnay.

“I can’t eat anymore.”

She sighs and her eyes connect with mine. I want to pull her out of her chair, sit her on my lap, and play with her. Instead, I force those thoughts away and focus on the elephant in the room. I’m not sure if she’s decided she doesn’t want an answer to her question earlier this afternoon, but I’m not one to ignore those types of things. Especially with her. I need to address this right away because I do not want what happened with Josie to happen with her.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. There is some gelato in the freezer if you’d like some of that later.” She smiles widely at me and the wall around my heart cracks more. I definitely need to talk to her sooner rather than later.

“You’re spoiling me,” she whispers. I lean forward and capture her hand in mine. Olivia doesn’t flinch and I’m tempted to pull her in my lap anyway, but keep myself under control.

“I want to spoil you. You deserve to be spoiled.” I kiss her fingertips and she sucks in a breath as she shifts in her seat. “We need to talk.”

Her tongue darts out and wets her lips. “About what?” I know she knows by the rise and fall of her chest.

“Your question earlier today.” I don’t beat around the bush; there’s no reason to.

She takes her hand out of mine and brings it to her throat. “Oh.” She swallows. “Okay.”

I’m impressed. I expected her to try to get out of it, but she’s not Josie. Olivia’s nothing like Josie. Leaning back in my chair, I watch her closely. She avoids my eyes for a few seconds, but finally focuses on me, and I know I have her full attention.

“What I’m about to tell you is going to be a lot. If you have any questions, please ask them. If it becomes too much, let me know and we’ll table it until you’re ready to hear more. Okay?”

She nods. “Okay.” Her voice is soft, but firm.

“Have you ever heard of a Dominant/submissive relationship?”

She tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she thinks. “No.”

Olivia shakes her head, but it looks like she’s still trying to figure out what it is. I’m a little surprised considering how big of a deal the Fifty Shades of Grey books and movies were a while back. But maybe she never read or watched those, which is good because I won’t have to explain how wrong it was.

“That’s okay. The reason I’m bringing this up is that I’m a Dominant and from some interactions I’ve had with you and your responses, I think you might be a submissive. This is something you’ll need to research, that we’ll need to talk about, and come to a decision together on how to move forward.”

She leans forward, grabs her glass of wine, and takes a sip. “Okay. I can do research.”

I lean forward and place my elbows on the table. Steepling my hands to rest my chin on my thumbs, I bring my forefinger to my nose and lips as I think about how to say what needs to be said next. I don’t want to scare her, but I also don’t want her to find information that’s harmful and isn’t helpful.

“I’ll send you some websites, but first I want you to ask me your question from earlier today.”

Olivia looks down at the table and takes a deep breath, but nothing comes out of her mouth. She plays with her napkin for a few seconds before taking another deep breath. “Why do I want to do whatever it is you’re asking me to do when you talk in that deep voice? Why do I want to text you every morning and ask you what I should wear? I have this need to please you, even when I know I won’t see you that day.” She doesn’t look up after she asks all of that.

I sit back and put my ankle on my knee. I wasn’t expecting her to say all of that. “That deep voice is what I call my Dominant voice and I try my best not to use it on you, but it’s hard to control where you’re concerned. There are times I notice you’re having a hard time making a decision and I sense you need direction, so I offer it. Because we are not in an official Dominant/submissive relationship, you can always say no. After you do your research, we’ll discuss the next steps for our relationship.”

Her head pops up. “Our relationship?”

“Yes. If you decide you’re a submissive, I would be honored to train you. I know I’m a lot older than you, so if you’d prefer it be someone else, that’s okay too.” My gut clenches at the thought of someone else training her.

She takes another sip from her wineglass. “Okay, I’ll do my research and let you know, but I want it to be you.”

“Okay,” I agree, as the tension releases in my muscles. “Another thing I’d like for you to do is keep a journal—”

“I already have a journal,” she says, interrupting me and I arch an eyebrow. If she was my sub, that would be a cause for punishment. She leans back in her chair and rubs her hands down her thighs. “Sorry.” That right there is why I’m almost certain she’s a submissive. I don’t have to correct her, she just knows.

“It’s okay, sweetness, but don’t interrupt me in the future.” She nods, so I continue. “As I was saying, I'd like for you to keep a journal. A journal that is separate from the current one you keep unless you’d like for them to be together, but you’ll share this journal with me. As you do research, if you have questions or certain feelings about what you’re reading, you can write it down and I’ll read it. Since we don’t live together, it will probably be easier if we share a document and it will give me a notification when you’ve updated it. But if you prefer writing on paper, we can figure that out.”

She’s quiet for a few moments. “Okay. I don’t mind sharing a document. I like writing, and technology doesn’t bother me either, as long as you can promise no one else will see it.”

“I promise.” We’re both quiet, thinking over the conversation we just had. “Now, I’d like for us to begin building our trust in each other. So, I want you to ask me a question that I promise to answer and I’d like to ask you a question that you promise to answer.”

Olivia freezes and looks out the windows as she scrunches her eyebrows. “I have a lot of secrets.”

I stand and walk the few steps until I’m directly in front of her. She looks up at me with glossy eyes, but tears won’t fall. I haven’t seen her cry since she was a kid; she didn’t even cry at her mom’s funeral. Kneeling down in front of her, I hold both of her hands in mine.

“I have a lot of secrets too. What if we compromise? If either of us asks a question and it’s too hard to answer right then, we can request a reprieve. We’ll answer the question, but not at that moment.”

She squeezes my hands and leans forward slightly. “Will there be a timeline of when we have to answer it?”

“How about a week? And if it’s too much to say out loud, we could write it down.”

She nods slowly. “I think I can handle that.” I bring her hands up to my lips and kiss each of them before standing to return to my chair.

“Ready?”