Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Maureen

"You're slippery," Trent said when I finally made my way back to the cafe where he'd likely been waiting for close to an hour. "Of course, I already knew that."

Blush rose up my cheeks unbidden at the reference to the absolute worst thing I'd ever done to someone. I'd honestly always regretted my actions that night, and over the past few years, I'd worked on not being anti-confrontational to such an extreme level. I'd learned to stick up for myself, and express my feelings, regardless of who they might unintentionally hurt, accepting they were my feelings, and I was entitled to them.

So yeah, I felt bad, but I also had no patience for letting him hang it over my head and bring it up with sharp little digs every chance he got.

I shot him the most decimating death glare I could and turned down the hall. "Ready for the tour? I don't have all night, so keep up."

"Oh, the bossy side comes out." I wasn't looking at him, so I couldn't see him grinning, but I could hear it in his voice. "I like it. Not my kink though. I prefer my woman a little more… compliant." He caught up to me. "A little more submissive. Funny, I would have sworn you fit into that category way back when. Guess you set me straight on that, huh?"

Another little dig. I gritted my teeth. The stupid thing was, he wasn't mean about it, and though I was annoyed, I wasn't angry. There was something about Trent that made him really hard to hate, and as much as I might really, really want to, I didn't hate him, not even a little bit, not even at all.

I scowled as the line from one of my favorite old movies, Ten Things I Hate About You , popped into my head.

Turning to Trent, I tried to change the subject. "How long have you been here?" I hadn't heard of a new professor on campus before yesterday, and often things like sexy new staff members made it around campus and the Ranch itself pretty quickly. All the Littles and subs would have surely noticed how hot he was. How could they not?

"I've been here… about two weeks. I was supposed to be here earlier, but my youngest niece had a fall from the treehouse and her broken arm required surgery. She wanted Uncle Trent to stay with her after, so I did."

I nodded. The new semester had only started two weeks ago, so that made sense. "What… erm… what brought you to Rawhide? Why did you leave Columbia?"

"Why did you ?" he countered.

The jerk. He knew he was the reason. Still if he wanted to play games, we could play games. I shrugged. "Rawhide is kind of irresistible, and Derek made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

It wasn't the truth. The truth was, I'd gone home that night, and decided to take the interest I'd always had one step further and use it to make sure no one ever tried to control me again.

I'd googled "How to become a Domme" with the intention that I'd start training at a local dungeon or something. I hadn't thought beyond that, and I honestly hadn't planned to quit my very cushy job to teach at a fledgling university in the middle of Montana.

While a bit disappointed in the results of my original online search, in a rather roundabout way, I'd finally found a forum and a comment that led me to another site for those interested in the lifestyle where I saw a mention of Rawhide University. After some more in-depth research, I'd found that it wasn't a training facility where I could learn the ins and outs of domming, but instead an actual accredited university on a BDSM Ranch. And the BDSM Ranch did have training programs and classes, they were just separate from the university.

On a whim, I'd filled out an application, certain I didn't have a chance to teach there with my lack of lifestyle experience, and then booked a vacation. I'd arrived at Rawhide several days later, just in time for my extensive application to be approved.

If it hadn't or if it had taken longer, I'd planned to get a room at a nearby hotel until it did. But it went through fast and Derek had called me the second I'd gotten settled in my room. He'd noticed that the reservation matched an application he'd gotten and wanted to interview me right away.

We'd gotten along right off the bat. I'd been honest with him about my experience or lack thereof, and he'd assigned me to shadow a few different Dommes. Three days later, I'd called and quit my job at Columbia, and honestly, I'd never looked back. It had all seemed just too meant to be. But I was looking back now.

I had to. The past was right in front of me, staring at me with a dopey grin and irresistible dimples on his face, his expression expectant, as if he was waiting for something.

"Well?" Trent asked, and I realized my thoughts had wandered, and I had no idea what we'd been talking about, or what he was waiting for.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked curtly.

"I asked when you knew you were a Domme."

That was a much more complicated answer, and one I didn't want to share. Not with him. My reasons were private, I hadn't shared them with many people. Derek, when he'd hired me, and Luna one night over dinner in which we'd indulged in a bottle of tongue-loosening wine.

"I've always known," I lied.

I could feel his scrutinizing gaze on me, and I could tell he didn't believe me, but he said, "Same" and we started walking again.

I changed the subject back to the Ranch because it was the only thing that felt safe. "So you've only been here two weeks; how much of the Ranch have you seen?"

"Not much. The drive wore me out, and classes had already started by the time I got here, so there hasn't been a lot of time for exploring."

I nodded. "So you've seen the cafeteria then, and that's about it?"

He shook his head. "I've seen the inside of Derek's office and the gift shop. And only because I couldn't find my toothbrush in my luggage. I think I might have left it in the last hotel I stayed in."

I blinked. Almost everyone ate in the cafeteria, but if he hadn't been, it would help explain why the rumor mill hadn't been running yet.

"I've been ordering room service," he explained sheepishly.

When I looked at him, he checked his watch. "Let's go have dinner."

"Sure. The cafeteria is a great place to get acclimated to the Ranch lifestyle and culture."

"Not there." He wrinkled his nose and grabbed my hand. "I want to try out the restaurants. I heard there was Mexican and Italian. My two favorite cuisines. Have dinner with me, Maureen. For old time's sake."

"Absolutely not." I shook my head, but I could already feel my resolve fading. "We're supposed to be taking a tour, not a trip down memory lane." It wouldn't even be a long trip. Trent and I had been nothing more than mildly flirtatious work colleagues for years, up until that fateful date.

"You were fine with eating together when it was in the cafeteria," he argued.

"Well, yes. That's more… public," I finished, praying he would accept my explanation and leave it alone.

"What's the matter, Reenie? Afraid to be alone with me?" He tapped his chin, then nodded. "Well, of course. There won't be any windows in the restaurants for you to climb out of if the conversation gets a little too intense for your liking. Then again… I doubt there are windows in the cafeteria either."

I'd had enough. Whirling, I faced him, stopping in the middle of the hallway. "You know what, Trent? I am sorry I left you in the restaurant for what it's worth. And yes, I'm sorry I snuck out the window. I wasn't good at confrontation back then, and for the record, I do regret it. But I will not stand here and listen to you throw it back in my face. You're a Dom. And in the lifestyle, as Tops, we don't hold on to things. We forgive and move on. So I'm going to offer my sincerest apology, and then I'm going to ask that you move on and stop bringing it up every chance you get."

Trent regarded me seriously, looking at me so long and hard it took everything in me not to look away. "Okay."

"Okay? Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll accept your apology, and I'll stop throwing it in your face." He paused a beat before continuing, "You do have one thing wrong though."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

His dark eyes bored into mine. "In the lifestyle, if you'd wronged me, I wouldn't just accept your apology, forgive and move on. There'd be a punishment in there first. And the punishment is the key part, the part that makes it easy for us to move on. You forgot that." He turned on his heel and headed down the hall.

I stood for a minute, staring after him, my jaw opening and closing like I was a fish out of water. "Oh get fucked!" I finally yelled. Then I turned on my heel and marched in the opposite direction. The asshole could find his own tour guide.