“I’m scared to ask her honest opinion.”
“She’s your best friend.”
“I don’t want to let her down. And I’m not sure she can be objective about this.”
“I know she can’t be objective about this. Is that why you’re here talking to me and not her?”
Lynn nodded.
Rachel gently shook her. “Stop it. Put Lynn first. Quit thinking about everything and everybody else. What does Lynn want to do?”
“I love him, and I missed him,” she whispered. “It hurt so bad. But I kind of got used to living with the pain. My new normal. If I lose him again, I couldn’t handle it.”
“If you take him back, maybe the pain will finally go away.” She studied Lynn for a moment. “Are you worried it’s about the money?”
“No, because he didn’t even know about it when he came back. And when he found out about it, he volunteered to sign a prenup.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you, sweetie.”
“How do I know I’m not just thinking with my clit instead of my brain? Or loneliness?”
Or not thinking at all?
Emotional paralysis had set in. Obviously, she couldn’t spend the rest of her life in a nebulous, push-pull, fear-based relationship with Paul. No matter what he’d said, the promises he’d made, that was not fair to him.
Could she really trust him?
Could she let go of the pain?
Could she finally get her mental shit together?
Her eyes widened.
“What just hit your brain?” Rachel asked.
Lynn stared at her. “He said prenup. He did!” She grabbed Rachel and hugged her, hard. “He said prenup!”
“Did he propose?”
“No, but…Why would he order me to get a prenup if he wasn’t serious?”
“Good question. I can’t answer that.”
“I think I just figured out my answer.”
Rachel smiled. “I think you did, too.”
Lynn hugged her friend again. “Thank you. I appreciate you letting me ramble.”
“No worries. In all seriousness, unless I’ve completely misjudged Terrie, I would be willing to bet she won’t hate you for taking him back. I think she’s worried on your behalf because I don’t think any of us with a quarter of a brain in our heads who saw what you went through these past couple of years wouldn’t be at least a little worried. If this is what makes you happy, and he doesn’t hurt you again, well, that’s all we want. We want the old Lynn back.”
“So do I,” she said.
* * * *
Lynn returned home, did a few chores, painted her toenails, and was ready when Paul returned exactly on time.
The sight of him in a suit nearly made her swoon.
Hell, it made her want to beg him to take her to bed instead of to dinner.
“Are you ready?”
She didn’t miss that he’d brought an overnight bag with him. “Yes, Sir. So where are we going for dinner?”
He smiled. “It’s a surprise.”
“Am I dressed all right?”
He pulled her into his arms. “You’re beautiful. As always.”
Draping her arms around his neck felt oh, so right. “Thank you for wearing a suit.”
When he kissed her, he cupped a hand around the nape of her neck and the other slid down to rest upon her ass, where he delivered a playful, bare-handed swat.
“No panties. Good girl.”
“Panties are a privilege, not a right,” she said.
He didn’t reply, at first, his gaze seeming to be searching her face for…something.
Wistful sadness filled his gaze. “If you want to wear them, you can, sweetheart.”
A flash of anger filled her. “What is wrong with you?” She tried to push away from him, but he held on.
“Settle, pet. Talk to me.”
She gave up trying to get free. “Why can’t we go back to what we were?”
“Because I’m not going to toss you into the deep end of the pool and have both of us drown in the process.”
“We’ve been here already. We passed this point. I wouldn’t have asked you to come back if I wasn’t ready for this. I’ve been ready for this. For two fucking years, Paul, I’ve been ready for this. While you were doing whatever it was you were doing with her, I ate and breathed and slept and dreamed this, okay?”
His gaze never left hers. “I’m sorry, pet.” His hand on her ass gently stroked her. “Good girl for remembering not to wear panties.”
“Thank you, Sir. Can we go now?” How had what seemed like the start of a perfect night led to her feeling so fucking pissed off at him?
“Not until you calm down.”
“I am calm!”
He arched an eyebrow at her but didn’t reply.
She took a deep breath and slowly let it out again. “I am calm.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “I’m sorry I triggered you, pet. This is exactly why we’re going to take this at my speed. Do you trust me?”
He’d proven his point. Too well. Even she couldn’t explain how the anger had suddenly burst from inside her like that. “Yes, Sir.”
“Do you still want to submit to me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then what is one of the key points of that?”
She took another breath and let it out. “I do what Sir says, the way he says it.”
He smiled, kissing her again. “Good girl.” He tipped her head to the side and nipped her earlobe, drawing a moan from her. “My very good girl,” he whispered. “I’m going to do this right, I swear. I’m going to take my time, and I’m going to do all the things with you I wish we’d had the time to do the first time around. This time, you are the only one in my life and in my heart, and you will get all my attention. Understand?”
Her heart raced, the heat, the depth, the strength in his tone. “Yes, Sir.”
He nipped her again, harder. “That means my speed, my way. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Next time you question me on this, it’s five hard ones with a cane. Understood?”
She shivered, now hoping she didn’t end up with a wet spot on her dress. “Yes, Sir.”
This was more like it. Her Sir, the man who’d gladly and easily kept her wild side in check and in line.
“I know you want me to tie you up and scene with you like we used to, but I have a very feral pet who ran free for too long and who needs to relearn patience. Don’t I?”
Another shiver raced through her at his tone. “Yes, Sir.”
He kissed the side of her neck. “Good girl. Now, go clean up. You’re wet, aren’t you?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir.” When he released her and she met his gaze, his eyes were crinkled in amusement.
It sent another jolt of need to her clit.
“You have three minutes, pet. Go.”
She ran.
* * * *
Paul reached down and adjusted his cock in his pants.
Dammit. Now he was hard.
Toward the end, Lynn’s voice had started sounding soft and tiny, a little hazy, subspace tickling the outer edges of her mind and trying to coax her deeper.
While she’d never used her childhood as a crutch or an excuse for anything, he’d nevertheless seen its lasting effects on her.
She was slow to trust, but when you earned her trust, you had it for life and to the death, as long as you didn’t break it.
That she still had the ability to trust him humbled him and spoke to how much he knew she still loved him.
But there, beneath the surface, he could see the turbulence. The well-disguised pain.
She wanted to erase the past two years and drop back into what they’d had.
He couldn’t. For a lot of reasons, the largest being that he no longer trusted himself even if she did.
He suspected if he gently probed she would admit that she had in her mind a fantasy of him showing up in Siou
x Falls, them going back to the room, and him throwing her onto the bed and ravaging her body the way he used to.
Not that he would have minded doing that, except it was probably the fastest way to derail this.
One day, they would get back to that point. If she let him.
Sarah had admitted there were a lot of things in their marriage she’d agreed to, or even suggested, not because she’d wanted to but because she’d thought it would make him happy.
She’d tried to predict those things for him and give them to him instead of having a healthy discussion about it.
In some ways, he knew Lynn might do the same damn thing.
Absolutely he would not let her.
When he was satisfied she was being completely open with him, that was different.
Although Lynn already was far more open and forthcoming than Sarah ever could have been.
Lynn returned with ten seconds to spare. They left, him driving them in his car, and headed toward downtown Sarasota.
“Did you have any trouble at Ed’s?” she asked.
He reached over to hold hands with her. “No. Why would I?”
She didn’t look at him and kept her gaze fixed ahead. “No reason. Just asking.”
“Pet.” He drew it out, low.
He heard her huffy sigh. “He kind of…talked to me.”
“A stern, cautionary kind of talk?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“That’s because it’s his job to protect your best interests. I’d be concerned if he didn’t.”
“I’m not a kid.”
“No one’s saying you are.”
A comfortable quiet enveloped them for a moment. “You said prenup,” she said.
“Yes?”
“When you found out about the boom, you are the one who brought up signing a prenup. Not me.”
“Yes?”
She finally glanced his way, but since he was driving, he couldn’t just stare at her to try to read her gaze. “You didn’t say contract or paperwork. You specifically said prenup.”
“Because that’s what it’s called.”
“Prenup, as in something you sign before a wedding.”
“Exactly.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
They finally reached a stale yellow he could slow enough to hit at red. He looked at her. “I told you in South Dakota that I am here unless or until you make me leave. And yes, eventually, I want to be married to you.”
“Even after what you just went through?”
“Especially after what I just went through. But it’s also why I’m doing things slow, even if you don’t agree with me doing them slow. Because you’re not the only one with triggers. I feel like a failure on a multitude of levels. I don’t want to repeat those mistakes.”
The light turned green, forcing him to return his attention to the road.
She didn’t speak for a couple of minutes. When she did, he could barely hear her.
“I don’t think you’re a failure, Sir. I never hated you. I hated the situation. And her,” she added after thinking about it for a moment.
“You have your triggers, and I have mine. I want to do this the right way for you, and I want to do it the right way for me, too. I remember what we used to do together. Do you honestly think I could forget a second of it? No. But knowing how easy it was between us before makes me more determined to do things right between us now. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir. So just to be clear—”
“I want to marry you, yes. We’ll be engaged for a while, though. We’ll be living together first.”
She went quiet again, but she squeezed his hand.
He squeezed back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The restaurant sat on Siesta Key and overlooked the bay. They were able to get a table next to the windows and looking out over the water. She appeared a little tentative as she perused the menu.
“I didn’t realize this place was so…spendy.”
“Stop looking at prices, pet. Order what you want.” He damn sure was. It was a splurge, but this was a celebration. “And if you order the cheapest thing on the menu, I’ll order for you.”
When she didn’t reply, he looked over the table at her. Her gaze was focused on his face. “What is it, pet?”
She closed her menu and set it down. “Could you please order for me, Sir?” Again her voice sounded soft, tiny.
He set his menu down and reached across the table, glad when she met him halfway and took his hands. “Do you really want me to order for you?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
She looked close to tears, and he hated that, but he needed to know.
“Because it’s been so long,” she whispered. “I don’t want to order for myself. Please? I want you to do it.”
He gently squeezed her hands. “Thank you. Good girl.” He released her hands and sat back, watching the tension drain from her.
In her life, every other aspect of it, she was in charge and had to go things alone. With Terrie’s help, but it was a huge strain.
It had been one of the reasons she’d enjoyed their play so much, being able to let go to him.
He already knew what to order for her. “Petite filet, rare, salad, bleu cheese dressing on your salad?”
Her smile hardened his cock again, and he forced himself not to reach down and adjust it. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
“Sounds good. I’ll make it two.” He set the menu aside again and waited until her gaze settled on his. “Don’t give in to me simply because you think things will go faster, because they won’t. I’ll only slow down more if I think you’re doing that.”
“Yes, Sir.”
It felt so damn good hearing her say those two words. He’d missed them—her—so much.
* * * *
Lynn knew when they returned to her place that Paul would maintain his control. That’s why when they got there, she stood in the entry and waited for him to give her orders as he turned to lock the door behind them.
“Go use the bathroom while I put the leftovers in the fridge. Then wait for me in the bedroom. Stand by the bed. Don’t get undressed.”
She hurried to do it.
When she emerged from the bathroom, he stood next to the bed, still fully dressed, a leather slapper in his hand.
It was all she could do not to let out a happy moan at the sight of it. Far from the most severe implement in his collection, it was, however, the very first thing he’d ever used on her when they first played together.
There went his eyebrow. “You recognize it.”
She nodded.
He pointed at the floor in front of him.
She wasn’t even sure if she took any steps or not. One moment she’d stood in the bathroom doorway, and the next she was on the floor and had her forehead pressed against the tops of his shoes, her mind already spinning down the rabbit hole that had lain dormant for far too long.
“Good girl. Sorry those aren’t my boots, but they would have looked odd with the suit.” She heard him drop the slapper onto the bed. “Up on your knees. Look at me.”
She sat up, her hands resting on her thighs.
Her gaze focused on him.
“You were a very good girl for me tonight,” he said. “Is there anything you wish I’d done differently?”
The urge to say “nothing” tried to fight its way out. Instead, she said, “I wish you’d taken tighter control sooner and told me from the start that you’d order for me.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Noted. Thank you for being honest with me.” The eyebrow arched again. “Do you know what honest pets get?”
Her bottom lip caught under her teeth. She honestly didn’t know, because whenever they’d played a version of this game in the past, he’d always changed it up.
She shook her head.
“Tonight, my pet is going to end up with a pink bottom.”
She f
ought the urge to wiggle with delight, imaging the feel of the slapper hitting her flesh, the sound it made, her juices already flowing.
He held out his hands to her, to help her up. When she was standing, he grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it up and over her head before dropping it to the floor.
“Shoes off.”
She kicked them off.
He turned her around and unhooked her bra, easing it down her arms and tossing it onto the dress.
All she now wore was her collar.
Then he sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, and patted his lap.
She nearly knocked him over as she practically threw herself onto him, her head to his left since he was right-handed.
He laughed. “Eager pet, hmm?” She loved the feel of his slacks against her flesh, a different feel than denim, thinner and yet coarser at the same time.
He wrapped her hair around his left hand while he grabbed the slapper with his right and laid it across her ass.
Then his finger…the tip of his right index finger traced the outline of her tat and her eyes fell closed. A soft moan escaped her.
“My good girl,” he whispered. The tip of his finger became the pad, slowly coloring in the grey-toned tat with his touch, the warmth triggering familiar old reactions in her body.
“Are you wet?”
“Yes, Sir.”
His finger fell still, dead center of the design. “When we get married, I’ll get my matching tat. All right?”
She fought the urge to squirm against him. “Yes, Sir.”
When. He’d said when, not if.
When.
She felt him pick up the slapper. He lightly dragged it up and down her back, her ass, her thighs, teasing her with it. When his right hand fell still, she was ready when he lifted it and took the first stroke.
Smack.
Definitely not his hardest hit, and not the most powerful bite that implement could deliver, but the warmth it left behind on her flesh rolled through her, firing her need and shoving her into subspace.
He took his time, apparently wanting to make sure she was okay with what he was doing. He slowly stepped up the force and speed of his strokes, up and down her ass, her thighs. Until—finally—she started feeling the delicious sting as he really put the slapper through its paces.