Chapter 13

Faye

I jolt awake, gasping as if I haven't taken a breath in a while. For a moment, I stare at the ceiling. I'm definitely in my apartment. Something feels off, though.

I sit upright as I realize the sun is shining. I'm panting as if I've been running, and when the covers drop to my lap, I gasp and look down. Why am I naked?

I jerk my gaze to the clock. Ten? How is that possible? I never sleep this late. My entire routine for the day will be off. Why didn't my alarm go off?

I grab my phone from the nightstand and tap the screen. There's a text.

Oh. My. God.

Easton.

Just making sure you're okay, baby. I hope you're still sleeping. I turned your ringer off so nothing could bother you. Let me know when you wake up.

Easton Riley. He's texting me.

Everything slams into me at once as my memory returns. I was with him all day yesterday. Twelve hours. I went to his club.

Oh, God…

Visions swim through my head—too many to follow. I can't focus. I was naked. I wore a skimpy negligée. I jerk my gaze toward my bathroom. If it's real, the bag holding that thin swatch of material is in there.

Easton restrained me to the wall. He made me come. He did it again on the spanking bench. He spanked me. Does my butt hurt?

I throw the covers back, groaning as I stare down at my naked body. How did I let him talk me into sleeping without PJs? The man is a bulldozer. He manages to get his way on everything.

I slide to the floor, and my breath hitches when I glance at my nightstand. The drawer is open slightly, and I yank it all the way open.

Palming my face, I groan. He took my vibrator! The bossy man put it in his pocket and took it!

I slam the drawer shut and stomp toward the bathroom. Before I pee, I turn on the shower. After I pee, I pause at the full-length mirror behind the door and back up to it, looking over my shoulder. At least there's no evidence I was spanked. Maybe at least that part didn't happen. Yeah, right.

I brush my teeth next and then climb into the shower before it finishes heating, hoping the cool water will jar me out of my weird state of mind. At least I don't feel drugged like I did last night, but I'm still out of body.

I drop the shampoo bottle when I pick it up, and after I wash and condition my hair, I can't keep a grip on the bar of soap either. My fingers aren't working. I'm shaking.

When I finally step out of the shower, I'm not fixed. I'm still confused. I'm dripping wet. I usually dry off in the shower. Not on the mat. I'm making a mess of the floor.

I snag my towel and rub my body down, but my hair is soaked. I didn't start with my hair. I'm completely discombobulated.

Somehow, I manage to pat my hair dry and wrap the towel around me before padding back into my room. I need clothes.

I nearly jump out of my skin when a knock at my door is followed immediately by the doorbell. Who would be at my apartment at this hour?

Oh, right. Half the morning is gone. Anyone could be at the door. Except people do not come to my door. The only person who has ever been to my apartment is Trinity, and she would not show up unannounced.

My phone lights up on my nightstand, and I head toward it as it occurs to me who must be at the door.

Sure enough, the incoming text is from Easton.

Are you awake, Faye? I'm worried. Open the door.

I spin around and hurry toward the door, peeking through the peephole before unlocking it and opening it.

Easton is standing in the frame, taking up more than his share of space. He looks worried, but his shoulders relax as he meets my gaze. "You're okay."

"I'm fine," I lie. "What are you doing here?" I glance down and groan. I'm wrapped in nothing but a towel. My hair isn't even combed, and it's hanging in long, damp ringlets around my shoulders.

"May I come in, Faye?"

I step back.

He enters and shuts the door behind him before cupping my face and leaning down to kiss me. The kiss is deep and consuming. It scatters my already scattered brain. My knees weaken.

Easton catches me with an arm around my waist before I collapse. "You're suffering from sub drop, baby." He bends down, sweeps me off my feet, and carries me cradled into my bedroom.

"What's sub drop?"

"It's what I warned you about. It's why I was worried and came here. I shouldn't have left you alone last night. Did you sleep?"

"Like the dead," I tell him as he stands me on my feet next to my bed.

"Good. You need more rest, though." He yanks my towel away, lifts me by the hips, and manhandles me back into bed. He pulls the covers up my body immediately.

"What are you doing?"

"You need fluid, food, and rest."

"I'm fine." I try to sit up, holding the blanket to my chest.

Mr. Dominant gently pushes me back to the pillows before crowding over me with his hands on either side of my head. "Stay here. I don't know how you even managed to shower. Let me find something for you to eat and drink."

When he rises, I push up again.

He shoots me a glare. "I don't want to spank you again this morning, but if you continue to test me, I will. It won't end in an orgasm, either."

I gasp.

"Do you want to test me, baby?"

I shake my head.

"Lie down. Don't move."

I lower to my back, panting.

He disappears from my room, leaving me more baffled than I was when I first woke up. He's so bossy.

I squeeze my legs together and slide my hands to my breasts. They feel heavy. My nipples ache as though they've been hard for hours. He pinched them last night. Is that why they're sore?

"What are you doing, Faye?"

A slight scream escapes my lips at the sound of Easton's voice as he re-enters the room. He seems to be fighting a grin as he sets a glass of orange juice and a plate of toast on my nightstand.

I'm frozen, caught with my hands on my boobs. Mortified.

He pulls the covers down to my waist, circles my wrists with his fingers, and pulls my hands from where they're covering my breasts. "I guess I wasn't specific enough last night. When I said no masturbating, I should've included your amazing tits. You may not touch them either. You're so responsive you could probably orgasm from playing with your nipples."

My face heats a thousand degrees, and I squeeze my eyes closed, willing this to not be happening. Every breath makes me aware my chest is bare. He's holding my arms above my head now.

"Look at me, Faye."

I shake my head.

He chuckles. "Baby…look at me."

I take a deep breath and open my eyes because it's impossible to disobey him. My lips are sealed shut.

"I didn't mean to barge in here and dominate the hell out of you. I was worried. You hadn't texted me yet."

I part my lips and lick them. "You are dominating the hell out of me," I point out.

"That's because you're irresistible and so fucking submissive." He's still holding me down. I'm still naked. My breasts are rising and falling. I'm aware I have no makeup on, and my hair is a tangled mess. I look dead when I'm not wearing mascara. I'm sure it was all over my face last night when he tucked me in, but I washed it off in the shower.

With a growl, he drops his face down to my neck and nuzzles me until I squirm. He then kisses a path to my lips and kisses me again. I'm not even fully awake, and he's kissing me senseless for a second time.

When he finally releases me—both my lips and my wrists—he pops up to sitting and runs a hand through his hair. After another long look at me, he shoves the covers down to my hips, grabs me around the waist, and pulls me up to sit. He tucks all my pillows behind me to prop me up and reaches for the glass of juice.

I yank the covers up to my neck.

He tugs them back down. "Leave the blankets alone. Drink." He holds out the glass.

I glare at him. Yes, it's hot when he dominates me. Really, really, really hot. I'm sure I have a fever, and my pussy is soaked. But I can't think like this. I need him to back off. "Do I need to use that safeword you made me choose?"

He sucks in a breath, sets the glass on the nightstand, and leans back several inches.

"Get me a shirt, Easton." I point toward the dresser. "Second drawer."

I'm almost surprised when he immediately stands, shuffles toward my dresser, and grabs me a white T-shirt. I'm doubly surprised when he hands it to me when he returns instead of ordering me to lift my arms so he can put it on me himself.

I feel marginally more in control after I lower the shirt over my head, and I try not to worry about the glimpse of my pussy he gets as I slide off the side of the bed before I can pull the long shirt over my butt.

I grab the plate and the glass and walk right past him, heading for the kitchen.

He follows me silently, and when I sit at my usual spot at the table, he sits across from me.

"I don't eat in bed," I tell him as I lift the toast to my lips. I take a bite, staring at him.

He nods, giving me a slight smile. "Of course you don't. I should've thought of that."

"I told you I'm an odd bird, Easton. You're in my apartment. Have you noticed how immaculate I am?"

"Yes." He leans his elbows on the table.

I drink the juice—all of it without stopping, just now realizing how thirsty I am. I'm trying not to freak out over the time and the fact that I missed the breakfast window, and I shouldn't eat at this hour because it will spoil my lunch. I ate at weird times yesterday, too. It's almost like I'm a normal woman.

Ha.

Reality seeps in as I finish my toast. I'm not going to be able to skip having tea, so I shove my chair back and pad over to the counter to turn on the kettle. While it heats, I grab a mug and a teabag. I spin around. "I don't have coffee. Would you like some tea?"

"No, baby. I'm fine."

I draw in a breath. He keeps using that endearment with me as if it were possible I could ever be his baby. It's not. I can't be what he needs. I had fun yesterday, but I'm not girlfriend material. He spoke of me coming to the club often and sleeping in his bed. I can't do those things. My routine is a hot mess after just one day. I'm shaking as I think about everything I didn't do yesterday and what I haven't done today.

I face away from him, grab the counter, and close my eyes. Deep breaths. I have a therapist because I'm self-aware, and I need her to help talk me off these kinds of ledges, but I've never stood on a ledge this high. She won't even believe this. Even if I only tell her one-tenth of what happened this weekend, she will think I've been taken over by an alien. I'm not sure that isn't what has happened.

My own personal crazy is about to surface, and I'm not going to hold it back because Easton needs to understand what I'm like.

The kettle boils. I pour the water into my mug and set it back down. When I return to the table, Easton has not moved. He's watching me closely.

I'm in control here. He has pulled back. Thank God.

I sit and take several sips of the tea, grateful that my brain starts to kick in. Finally, I set the mug down and look at him. "I have obsessive tendencies, Easton."

"I know, Faye. You told me."

"You have no idea how out of my element I am right now. I keep a strict schedule. I haven't followed it for twenty-four hours. I'm self-aware enough to know that nothing on my schedule needed to be done. It won't matter that I skipped cleaning my toilet yesterday or didn't do a load of whites. It won't be the end of the world that my bed isn't made even though I left the room or that I ate toast at ten thirty in the morning. I won't die from not reading from nine to ten or jogging from eight to eight forty-five. I know that, but you need to understand those are the kinds of things I normally do on a schedule, and I'm confused and shaken from not doing them."

He doesn't interrupt me, and when I'm done, he nods. "I hear you, Faye."

I find myself giggling out of nowhere. "You've had counseling, too." No one listens to another person so intently and then validates their feelings like that without extensive counseling of their own.

He shrugs. "How do you think I managed to convert myself from that geeky, scrawny kid in high school to a man people pay attention to? Yes, I had a lot of counseling. I'm not ignorant about what makes people tick."

"So, you can understand me when I say there is no way this thing between us…" I wave a hand back and forth, "…can possibly become a habit."

He shakes his head. "I disagree with you there. It's too late. This thing is already a habit."

I draw in a sharp breath. "We've known each other for like…one day."

"I only needed one hour. By the time we finished brunch, I knew I wanted you."

I should be grateful he's honest. But I'm freaking out. I sip some more tea, but it doesn't help me calm down. I set the mug down before I drop it. I'm sitting in my kitchen in nothing but a T-shirt with my bare butt on the chair. I'm not sure I've ever been out of my room without being dressed.

"We're so different," I point out.

"But we want the same thing, and we're madly attracted to each other." He leans back, looking confident. He even crosses his arms. "We'll work out the details, Faye, but don't turn away from this."

"How can you feel so confident?"

"I'm thirty-five years old. I've dated a lot of women. I've dominated dozens. I've had several semi-long-term girlfriends. I've never felt like this."

My breath hitches. I cross my arms and fiddle with the neck of my T-shirt.

He leans forward again, sets his elbows on the table, and holds my gaze in that intense way he does. "Drake nearly bit my head off last night for leaving you, especially when I told him how amazing our day was."

I wince.

"Baby, I didn't tell him what we did in my private apartment. Just the big picture. But he didn't need me to tell him how I dominated you. I've never texted him and told him I wouldn't be able to open the club with him. I've never flaked and locked my door and not come out for three hours. I've never taken my finger off the business and left everything to work itself out without even texting or checking my phone. He knew it was important. And it was. Last night was the most powerful night of my life. Tell me it wasn't the same for you."

I swallow hard. It was, but if I admit that…

He ignores my silence. "It's okay if you need time. I'll give you time and space. I understand your foundation is rocked. I know this is huge for you and you're not used to sharing your space or time with another human. I won't pretend it's not more earth-shattering for you because you haven't ever been in any relationship, let alone a D/s arrangement. I'll back off and let you collect your thoughts, but don't shut me out."

I bite my lip. I don't know how to respond.

"We have a powerful connection. You know it as well as I do. You will never be happy without kink in your life now that you've tasted it. You need a strong Dominant to help you get the release you crave. I want to be that man. It means making changes to your life. I get that. It might mean we have to work harder than other people to blend our lives. But please open your heart to the possibility."

My lip hurts from biting it.

He draws in another breath. "Will you be okay if I leave you alone, baby? Are you feeling too out-of-sorts still? The sub drop was intense."

I shake my head. "I'm fine now. I just needed a shower and some tea."

He folds his hands under his chin and stares at the table for long seconds. "I'll go so you can get back into your routine. May I please text you?"

I nod. "Yes."

"I might text you often."

I smile. "That's okay. I won't answer when I'm working, though."

"I understand. I will worry about you, so please give me a few words every now and then so I don't panic."

He sounds so vulnerable that it's oddly endearing. He means every word. He really wants to have a relationship with me. I'm stunned to say the least.

When he stands, I do, too. He heads for the door, sets his hand on the knob, and turns toward me. "Think about it, Faye. Please. Think about giving me a chance. Come to the club anytime you want. It's open Wednesday through Saturday."

I nod. I know this.

"Call me if you want to talk. Or text."

"Okay," I whisper.

He opens the door and steps into the hallway. He hesitates a moment, meeting my gaze, but then turns and heads toward the stairs.

I stand in the doorway, watching him until the door to the stairwell shuts. It sounds loud and makes me flinch. I feel heavy as I step back inside and shut the door. For a long time, I stand leaning against it, rubbing my neck with one hand, too shocked to do anything else.

My Sunday routine is shot to hell. When I finally move, I head straight back to my room. I'm chilled, and I head for my closet, shove my clothes to one side, and reach for the navy jacket that hangs in the back. When I put it on, I instantly feel more settled.

It's silly. I've had this jacket since high school. I pull it out in times like this when I'm out of sorts and need comforting. That's what the jacket did for me the day I acquired it, and it still works today.

Wrapped up in the worn, old garment, I climb under the covers as if I were sick. I need more rest. I need to escape.

When I close my eyes, I drift back to that day. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was one of the most humiliating days in my life. I can still hear the laughter coming from all around me as I stood in the middle of the cafeteria with tomato sauce dripping down the front of my blouse.

I couldn't breathe. I was frozen in my spot, unable to turn and run from the room. My ears were ringing. I wondered how I was going to survive the day.

I pull the front of the jacket up to my nose and inhale. It no longer has a scent, and I no longer remember what it smelled like. I only know that it saved me from further embarrassment. It's a symbol of kindness. A reminder that someone cared about me. I pull this jacket out and wear it every time I need to remember that some humans are good.

It takes me a minute to get comfortable, and then I stare at the ceiling, trying to process everything. It's too much. I'm overwhelmed. I'm glad Easton is gone so I can think. I can't think when he's in my space. I can only obey. But I also hate that he's gone. I like having him near me, touching me, dominating me, taking care of me.

How could I possibly make the kinds of changes he's suggesting? I don't see how I could. I'm too set in my ways to add a man to my life. I like my space. My apartment is exactly how I want it. I get nervous when my routine is broken.

I close my eyes and take deep breaths, curling into myself until I finally fall back to sleep.