Chapter 12

Faye

It takes me a long time to recover from what happened on that bench. I'm embarrassed even though Easton tells me over and over that my reaction is normal.

He unfastened me in seconds, wrapped me in a soft blanket, and has been holding me in his lap for an hour. He feeds me little bites of chocolate and makes me drink more water every few minutes.

He rubs my back. "It's called subspace, baby. It can be powerful. You'll probably feel hungover tomorrow, like you had too much to drink."

"I've never been hungover," I mumble.

"No? You've never overindulged in wine or cocktails and had a killer headache the next day?" He leans me back to look into my eyes.

He does this a lot. It's unnerving when he forces me to look at him. "I've never had alcohol," I tell him.

His brows lift. "You constantly surprise me."

"I'm weird. I told you that this morning."

"You're not weird, Faye. You're refreshing. I should feel bad for tempting you down this path into my kinky lair."

I roll my eyes. "I'm the one who came to your class and got intrigued. I don't think you get credit for luring me in."

"That may be, but I'm the one who told you to call and handed you my card. I'm the one who asked you to come back, invited you to brunch, and then took over your life today."

His smile makes me tremble. He says all these serious words while grinning at me. Sometimes, I have trouble reading him. However, I read him better than any other human I've ever met. Perhaps because he's blunt. He tells me what he's thinking. Heck, he also tells me what I'm thinking.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, making him wince. "That's my brother. He's texted several times. Do you mind if I check it?"

"No. Go ahead."

He leans to one side to pull it out of his pocket, taps the screen with one hand, and reads the messages. He somehow manages to return a text with just one thumb before stashing it and sighing.

"Everything okay?" I don't want to pry. "I'm keeping you from your club. I bet you're supposed to be working."

"Faye, you are not keeping me from anything. I'm right where I want to be. Drake has everything under control. He doesn't need me. He's only texting to harass me."

I frown. "Harass you?"

"Yep. I've told him repeatedly that I'm not ready for another relationship. I've insisted I don't train new submissives. Now he's going to laugh at me for months."

I stare at him. "Why?" This would be one of those times when I'm missing social cues.

He smiles and taps my nose. "Because he was right. You've lured me into your web, and now I'm trapped."

I frown. "You're trapped?" My brain is running slower than usual, probably because of the weird subspace he spoke of. I'm not following.

"Figure of speech, baby. Trapped in a good way. I just mean I feel drawn to you. I want to be the one to train you. I want to spend more time with you. Drake encouraged me to ask you out, and he was right. Does that scare you?"

I don't know. I'm certainly scared for a whole host of reasons, but I can't verbalize them. I can't tell him how hard it is for me to trust or why I don't let people get close to me. It's confusing. My weird issues go all the way back to high school. I never got over the way other kids treated me. I never gave adults the chance to do the same thing.

He rolls me closer to his body, holding me tightly. He kisses the top of my head. "You're exhausted. I've monopolized your day and night. I should take you home and tuck you into bed."

He's confusing me. He wants me to go home? "Okay."

He leans me back and looks me in the eyes, brows furrowed. "Are you okay, Faye?"

I nod. "Yes, Sir."

He brings his mouth to mine and kisses me gently. When he releases my lips, he groans. "You're going to distract me day and night. I can't get enough of you."

I assume that's a good thing? I don't ask. I feel heavy and tired.

Easton holds me closer and stands. He carries me to the bathroom, sets me on my feet, and reaches for the pile of clothes I carefully set on the counter when I changed. He grabs my panties first, squats in front of me, and taps my ankle. "Hold my shoulders, baby. Let me dress you."

It's so weird standing here naked, letting this man I barely know dress me. Except, it doesn't seem like I hardly know him. It seems like I've known him for a very long time. It seems like today was a month long.

Before I know it, I'm fully dressed, and my sexy black negligée is back in its bag. The thong is history since Easton cut it. The memory of that moment will never leave me. It might be the single most sexy thing I've ever experienced.

"I don't have a car…" I mumble absently as he guides me to the door of his apartment.

He turns toward me and cups my face. "Faye, I'm going to take you home and tuck you into bed myself, baby. You're dazed from the scene."

"We didn't go to the club…"

He smiles. "Nope. You're in no state of mind for that now. We'll do that next time."

Next time… I'm not sure I can survive another day like today. I'm so far out of my element that I don't know who I am. I think I've taken leave of my senses, or perhaps someone else inhabited my body for the day against my will.

Easton opens the door and leads me back to his office.

Drake is there, and when he turns around, he smiles. "Hey, Faye. It's good to see you."

"You, too," I whisper. I don't know how to act. I feel uncomfortable and nervous. Does he know what we just did? Even though Easton said he would not talk about what we do alone, I'm sure Drake can surmise.

Easton sets his hands on my shoulders. "I'm going to take Faye home. I'll be back in a while."

Drake nods. His brow is furrowed. "Stay as long as you need. She's in deep."

In deep? What does that mean?

"Yes, she is. She slides into subspace easily."

Oh, subspace… That must be what Drake is referring to. I still don't get it, but I will admit I feel strange. Is this what being drunk feels like?

"Sleep well, Faye," Drake says.

"Thank you."

Easton leads me down the stairs, stopping at the second floor. We step into the reception area. Marny is there.

"Marny, this is Faye," Easton says.

Marny smiles warmly. "I remember her from last night and the intro class."

"She's my guest. She has permission to go anywhere in the building."

Marny nods. "Got it."

"I'll be back in a while," Easton informs her before leading me out of the reception area and down the next flight of stairs. He stops again at the entrance to the club, where the huge man guards the door. I met him last night as well. Jax.

"Jax, this is Faye."

Jax may be a giant with an expression that's usually serious, but he also greets me warmly. "I remember."

"She can come and go as she pleases at any time," Easton informs him.

Jax nods. "I won't forget." He tips his head at me.

I feel like I'm spinning out of control. Everything seems confusing. Why is Easton making sure everyone knows who I am?

"Come," he whispers in my ear before he takes my hand and leads me to his car. He says nothing as he helps me into the front seat, buckles my belt, and rounds the car.

On the drive home, he holds my hand. When he pulls up to my apartment building and parks in the street, I stare at him. It takes me a moment to realize he knew where I lived from my paperwork.

He helps me out of the car and into the building, where he calls the elevator. "What floor, baby?" he asks when we step inside.

I giggle.

He chuckles. "What's funny?"

"I was wondering if you knew everything about me."

"I know your apartment number is four-twelve, but the number doesn't necessarily correlate with the fourth floor."

"It does this time."

He pushes the button for the fourth floor.

I'm not sure I could have done this on my own. I really feel confused. He seems undaunted by my weird state of mind. Instead of asking me for my keys, he takes my purse, opens it, and pulls them out. In seconds, he ushers me inside and straight through to my bedroom as if he knows the place.

It's not a stretch. There are two bedrooms, but they aren't hard to find. It's an apartment, not the governor's mansion.

He angles me toward the bathroom, sets my purse and the bag with my negligée on the counter, and bends to remove my shoes. "Do you want to take a bath or shower tonight?"

I grab his shoulders as he pulls my jeans off my body. It's like I'm too slow to keep up with the pace. "Uh, no. I'll do it in the morning."

"Okay." He pulls my sweater off next and turns me toward the sink, where he puts toothpaste on my toothbrush and hands it to me. "Brush, baby."

I stare at it for a second, trying to remember what I'm meant to do. I sort of know this is a common task I do twice a day, but I'm not sure what it entails.

Easton crowds me from behind, takes the toothbrush from my hand, puts some water on it, and holds it to my mouth. "Open, baby," he says gently.

I do as I'm told and stare at him in the mirror as he brushes my teeth for me. My face heats. What's wrong with me? After he helps me rinse and spit, I look at him. "I feel drugged."

"It's the subspace, baby." He unfastens my bra next and then lowers my panties down my legs so that I'm once again naked in front of him. He's all business now, though. He's not gawking at me like he was earlier. He points toward the toilet. "Pee. I'll wait outside."

I watch as he leaves the bathroom and pulls the door almost shut.

I consider reaching out and closing it the rest of the way, but something stops me. He's so Dominant. If he'd wanted it shut, he would have shut it. So I turn toward the toilet and do my business, flushing and washing my hands after. I'm still rubbing the soap in when he pushes the door back open and joins me. He dries my hands and guides me toward my bed.

When we reach it, he pulls the covers back and pats the sheet. "Climb in."

"I need PJs."

He smiles. "You don't." He lifts me off my feet, deposits me on the mattress, and pulls the covers over me. He sits next to me and glances at my nightstand before setting his palm on the bed on the other side of my hips. "Good. You have water. Drink it if you wake up in the night. You're still going to feel sluggish in the morning. I want you to text me when you wake up."

He pops off the bed, heads for the bathroom, and returns with my phone, which he proceeds to plug into the charger on my nightstand before turning off the ringer.

He's so…controlling. It feels nice. It also feels scary.

"I need PJs," I say again, squirming against the sheets. I've never slept naked.

He chuckles. "You should get used to sleeping naked, Faye."

"Why?"

"Because that's how you'll sleep in my bed."

In his bed? My heart rate picks up. He intends for me to sleep in his bed…? "When?" I blurt that out before I can stop myself.

He leans over and kisses me gently. "When you're ready."

That makes no sense. "I don't, uh… I don't sleep in other people's beds," I tell him, though I sound like a teenager.

He chuckles again. "You're so fucking precious. I'm glad you haven't slept in anyone else's bed, but soon you will sleep with me, and it's not likely I will be able to let you go after you've been in my arms all night."

"In your arms?" I shake my head. There's no way I could sleep with someone touching me. Nor can I sleep naked.

"Definitely." He brushes a lock of hair from my face, reminding me it's still up in the bun he put it in. Everyone I saw as we left the club saw my disheveled hair. They must have thought we had sex.

Now, I'm mortified. I feel my face heat as I reach a hand up, touch my bun, and groan.

"What's wrong, Faye?"

"Everyone probably thinks we had sex," I hiss.

He doesn't laugh, but he looks like he's close. "Baby, it's none of their business if we had sex. It is, however, a fetish club. People have sex there. It's not permitted on the first floor, but the guests on the second and third floors often have sex. We even have showers in the locker room."

I groan and cover my face.

He strokes my arm. "I'm sorry you're embarrassed. I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

I drop my arm and glare at him. "You totally intend to embarrass me. You've said so."

He smiles. "In a scene. In the club. Yes. If that continues to be something you crave. But when we're not in a scene, and you're not specifically submitting to me, I never want you to be embarrassed."

I narrow my gaze. My brain is working better now. "I don't get the impression I would ever be not submitting to you."

He chuckles again. "Well, that's kind of true. It's hard for me to turn it off, especially when you enjoy it so much. I will, however, tone it down when we're not playing. I never want you to feel uncomfortable, baby."

I'm breathing heavily. My chest is rising and falling. He's hovering so close. Even lying here, he's dominating me. I'm pinned to my bed by his body on one side and his hand on the other. His gaze is so intense. Does he not realize that?

He lifts his hand and strokes my naked shoulder. "Will you sleep naked for me?"

I lick my lips. It's odd how he's asking so gently, but he's not really asking. He's inserting his will. "I'll try."

He glances at my nightstand. "Do you have a vibrator in there?"

My breath hitches, and my eyes go wide.

"Faye…" He's smirking now. "Is there a vibrator in your nightstand?"

"Yes, Sir," I murmur.

He opens it and takes it out. "Is this the only one you have?"

I nod slowly. What is he doing? I can't possibly have another orgasm tonight.

He shocks me speechless when he tucks it into his jacket pocket.

"What… What are you doing?" I ask.

He lifts my fingers to his lips and kisses them. "I don't want you to masturbate when I'm not with you."

I stop breathing.

He holds my gaze while he sucks the tip of my middle finger. "Don't use your fingers either. Don't touch your pussy."

Wetness rushes out of me. I'm going to get the sheets wet. Is he serious?

"You heard me. Your orgasms are mine."

My ears are ringing. I'm speechless. How can he order me not to touch myself and be so blasé about it? Like it's a perfectly normal request.

He sets my hand down, stands, and leans over to kiss me again. I don't kiss him back because my lips aren't taking orders from my brain. I simply stare. I feel lightheaded. I'm not getting enough oxygen.

"Sleep, baby. I'm going to leave now. I'll lock the door behind me. Text me when you wake up in the morning, okay?"

He strokes my cheek until I finally nod. "Yes, Sir." My voice is so soft, I'm not sure he heard it, especially over the ringing in my ears.

One more kiss, and then he leaves. He turns the lights out in my room and in the living room, and then I hear the door close.

He's gone. It feels like a freight train raced through my life and caused a tornado. Pieces of my world are blowing around in the room, spinning like they are caught up in the cyclone. I can't make sense of anything.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I'm not sure today was even real. I can't process anything. Brunch… The Olympic Sculpture Park… Shopping… Dinner… Edge… Oh, God. Easton took over. He stripped me naked and made me come. He strapped me to that fancy bench, spanked me, and made me come again so hard I saw stars.

I'm naked in my bed because he's so controlling that even back in my apartment, he was still bossing me around. He's subtle about it, but he does it. He's a Dominant.

He's my Dominant?

That part is baffling. Is he serious? He intends to see me again? I mean, his words insinuated so, but at no point during the day did I allow myself to believe I would see him after today. It's preposterous. I'm not his style. I'm awkward and antisocial. Usually, I can't have much of a conversation with anyone outside of my lab.

When I'm at work, it's easy. Everything I say is for a reason. It's related to my job and the work we're doing. Plus, I think most of the people I work with are just as awkward as me.

Except Trinity. She's normal. If there is such a thing.

When I'm not at work with other equally awkward scientists, I'm a fish out of water. I do what needs to be done outside my apartment—things like grocery shopping or exercising—but I don't look people in the eye. I don't address them. I don't socialize.

Regular humans make me nervous. They have nefarious plans. Most of the people I work with are just like me. They were all probably nerdy and bullied in high school. We don't talk about each other and poke fun. We don't trip each other on the way to the lunch room. We don't intentionally stumble and spill things down someone's shirt.

Trinity has convinced me to go out sometimes to the movies or dinner—and the biggest stretch of all, the kink club. How did I find myself so turned on by that trip to Edge? So much so that I'm the one who returned, and I haven't even told Trinity.

She's going to freak when she finds out what has happened to me. I'm not ready to tell her. I'll keep this to myself for now. I'm not sure I even believe it. I pinch myself, but the movement also reminds me I'm naked. There's no way I would have gotten into bed naked, which means either I was in a trance or Easton really was here in my apartment. He really did strip me down, brush my teeth, boss me around, and tuck me into bed. He really did take my vibrator.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I'm exhausted. Too exhausted to continue pondering this massive earthquake that is my life. Tomorrow, I'll be sharper and better able to analyze what has happened.