by Leigh Lennon
She whips her head to me, her eyes watering. But like in life, I push, pushing for a person’s own good. I don’t rescind my question and wait in peaceful silence.
“Three things.” Her voice is agitated. “Um, okay. One, my dad loves me but didn’t know how to put me first. Two, my mom left me with him. Three, my dad appears in my life still to this day just to turn it upside down.”
Her eyes turn back to the calm of the ocean, and she stays in silence for a couple of rounds around the big wheel. I reach for her hand, pulling her gaze back to me. “Kitten, I know this wasn’t easy. But sometimes, it’s best to get this shit out, even for a second.”
The set of her jaw shows me that she’s not in agreement. “Oh, yeah, says the little rich boy. You never got dragged to a homeless shelter because your dad spent the rent money on alcohol. You never had to go to school in clothes he found in a dumpster behind the liquor store. And oh, my favorite, still to this day, when I started my period, and I had to get pads, he found free diapers at the homeless shelter and told me to wear those instead. So spare me this shit is better to get out speech because it’s not.” And for added sass, she opens her mouth and finishes with, “Oh, I forgot to say, Sir.”
Right on cue, as though this scene was rehearsed and filmed for a studio audience, she flags down the operator, and when the wheel stops, she exits the car without a backward glance. Hurrying down the steps, I’m on her heels. “Eve, stop.” Her name gets her attention, and she halts her running departure from me, twisting her body around. In her expression etches a picture I’ve never been shown.
Her face turns ashen, and her eyes have lost their sparkle, which had shimmered like the stars just five minutes earlier. Her lips, always turned up in a smile even when I’m an ass to her, are turned downward. But more than just her facial expression are her mannerisms. Her fists are clenched tightly, and her shoulders slumped over.
“Eve.” It’s what I say, and she runs into my arms. It’s instinct to catch her and hold her tight. I’ve never had this pull to do something so natural before, but with her, it’s as innate as blinking.
I bring her back, the world not even a blip at this moment, as most are meandering around us to get to their next destination. “Kitten, it’s okay. You’re safe now. No one will ever treat you that way again. I promise.”
With her eyes narrowed on me, the frown she’s been wearing remains. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Without thinking about it, I place my hand on her tearstained face and stroke it. “No matter what happens with us, Kitten, you call me day or night, and I’ll come to you. All you have to do is ask, and I’ll make all your nightmares go away.”
I hold her tight against my simple V-neck top and take in her aroma. And it’s appropriate, as with most things with Eve, that she smells of apples. It goes to show Eve will always be my temptation.
Chapter Nineteen
Eve
Why am I in this jackass’s arms? I’m getting whiplash from his back and forth. Reliving the pain of my dad has me retreating to him, to the man who seems to push me away one moment and pull me back the next. My little breakdown in the middle of the pier goes unnoticed by all the people scurrying around us, yet I don’t want to break my connection with him. For once, I’m safe with my needs put above anyone else’s.
“You’re right, Kitten,” he whispers in my ear. “I was neglected in many ways but not having my basic needs met, this is a whole other level of…” His thoughts trail off, and he gets it. Maybe not by living through it—the man had food, clothes, and shelter—but in my little rant from earlier, he sees the anguish and the difference. “I’ve not made it a secret, Kitten, what I want from you, but I promise you will never go without anymore.”
I believe him, but I want more than my basic needs met by this man. I want him so much deeper than this, and we both know it. We can sense the friction as tangible as the presence of the huge Pacific wheel.
“Eve,” he whispers, and when he calls me now by my first name, the letters seem foreign on his tongue. “You know I want you.”
I pull back because I can’t wallow in my past one second longer. “Only because you can’t have me,” I say, but with these words, finally being articulated after pussyfooting around it, my whole demeanor changes, and I pull him toward the roller coaster, ready to delight in one of the few days I’ll get with Chadwick Westbrook.
My smile can’t be contained, not for one moment. On the way to this restaurant Chadwick is raving about, we pass a street vendor selling stuffed animals. “Wait.” He stops me. “Give me a second.” He turns me away from the street vendor while the two of them broker a deal as if he’s buying the country of Italy or something.
“Close your eyes, Kitten,” he demands, and I do as he asks. I find this incredibly easier than I had ever thought.
“Now open.” It’s only a split second between commands, but I feel lighter after submitting to him in this small way. When I take in the object in front of me through the slits of my eyes, laughter escapes me. He’s holding a small stuffed kitten in crazy bright colors. “A kitten for my kitten,” he chimes, and I grab it from his hands, hugging it tight to my body.
He doesn’t utter a word, only places his arms around me. “Now, let me feed you. There’s the best fish house up the street, The Albright, and once you have this, you’ll never be able to eat fish at another place again.” Dropping a small kiss on my cheek, he leads the way, and I follow.
“Kitten, wake up.” I hear something speaking to me, but I’m so deep in sleep, I’m not aware of where I am. Stretching my hands and opening my eyes slightly, I realize it’s dark outside, and with the top removed, it’s still warm out.
“Where are we?” I’m looking around, and we’re in an empty lot. No, scratch that, there’s a jet in front of us.
“Greer and Cord have my LA club under control. And Maddox is being a pussy bitch about something at the Seattle club, so I thought we’d fly there tonight.”
“Um, my stuff?” I ask when I see my luggage being carted on the plane. “Well, never mind, I should have known. But why didn’t you tell me?”
“I sort of made the decision once you fell asleep, and I don’t need to get approval from anyone but me.”
Here is the Chadwick Westbrook I’ve come to know in the past few weeks. After grabbing my purse, I’m out of the car, slamming the door, and making my way up the stairs to the jet—leaving him behind me.
Chapter Twenty
Chadwick
Her blue Converse sneakers disappear up the stairs into the plane, and I’m out of my car before my mind catches up with me. Stomping up the steps, my eyes fall on the pilot and the flight attendants. This shit stops now. “Out,” I demand calmly, though my voice threatens to spill over.
“Sir, we are…”
“I said out. I’ll let you know when you can come back onto the plane.” I wait for them to leave Eve and me alone, turning to her, attempting to declutter my mind of the anger coursing through me. “Kitten, you are pushing me. You apparently have decided that you want me to bend you over my knee with your tantrum and disrespect.”
She has not turned her attention my way, not for one second. I find this more infuriating than anything. “Evelyn, you ignoring me is going to really seal the deal for you.”
It happens at first in slow motion. The toss of her head, the swish of her hair, then her hands being thrown in the air. Then she’s in my space. “You don’t have it in you to spank me. For someone who seems to get off on spanking, you sure are all talk and no fucking action.”
I’ve given her a lot of leeway in the past twenty-four hours, but now, she’s stirring the pot, poking the bear. My hands grasp her wrists, her nose meeting my own nose. “Kitten, you really want to go down this road with me? You want to see what I can do? I think you almost want it.”
“You don’t know what I want.” Her tone is not raised, not yelling but sensual, a lewd undertone marking the start of
this conversation.
“Well, Kitten, I don’t think you know what you want!” I’m just as suggestive, lowering my voice an octave as my lips almost touch hers.
“I’ve told you, you can’t give me what I want.”
Her eyes are closed, but as close as I am to her, I see every little twitch of her nose, the way her lips form differently when she whispers, and the tear making its way down her cheek.
“Kitten, what if I wanted to? What if I could give you what you want?”
She pulls back, severing our connection. “You’re an asshole, Chadwick Westbrook.”
I shrug my shoulders, the serious part of the conversation apparently over. With a small smirk, I continue. “I know, Kitten.”
“You don’t know how to treat people.”
Well, shit, now my feelings are hurt. Fuck, do I even have feelings? I must because I feel an odd pain digging deep in my heart. The only people ever able to affect this part of me are my boys and my grams. But this is worse. And sure, I’ve been a prick, no doubt. Not sure I can change but hell, I’ve shown her a side of me no one but the boys or my grams get to see.
I look down, and the sensation of being overly emotional falls on me. A little laugh is heard from Eve, and she tips my head to her. “I guess that was unfair after the way you held me when I shared a little of my childhood with you.”
“And that’s one of the problems. You’ve affected me. I don’t share with women, I don’t take them out for the day, and I sure as hell never let one talk to me like you do.” I pull a piece of her honey brown hair away from her eyes. “So, what do you want, Kitten? Tell me.”
I think I already know. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize what she craves. When her eyes move to mine, her answer is simple. “I just want to be loved. No one has ever loved me.” My hand falls to her cheek when she looks away. “And you are not the love kind of guy.”
Shit, three weeks ago, I would have agreed with her. “Maybe, until you walked into my office.”
Those words get her attention when her eyes meet mine yet again. “I can’t ask you to give up control.”
“I don’t think I could,” I admit, and she tugs away from me. “But you don’t know my life. You don’t understand it.” I follow her as our physical distance becomes a warning to me. “But, Kitten, it works. Committed relationships in BDSM work, they really do.” Now I’m begging her, and it occurs to me how different she truly is as I use this ploy. I never beg.
“Shiloh and Cord, they’re a couple. He sees no one else, they’re committed, and she trusts him. Their relationship is different, that’s for sure. It took time, but I know you could trust me, like Shiloh trusts Cord.” She sits down with a valley between us. “Kitten?”
“But there’s give and take with them, right?”
“Sure, she can stop him. She has that power to stop anytime if it goes too far.”
Her attention is all mine again at those words. “Kitten, do you trust me?” I question.
Her eyes are wet, but her answer is immediate. “I weirdly do, but with you, I don’t trust myself.” In those words are the building blocks for what I instantly plan.
“Okay.” I pause as an idea comes to me immediately. Picking up my phone, I hit a close friend’s phone number. This is a long shot with their schedules, but she’s worth all the effort. It’s taken me long enough to admit this, but now, after our little heart to heart, making this call, it’s my hope some of her fears can be put at ease.
He answers right away, and when I hear his voice, I respond, “Hey, are you and your girl able to meet me?” This garners Eve’s attention immediately, her eyebrows knit together, and in her stare, she has so many questions.
I text my pilot, explaining we’re delaying the trip by a couple of hours, then ask for a stewardess to attend to our requests. Staying on the plane, I offer no explanation to Eve. This pisses her off, so she has pulled her book out, reading and ignoring me.
Playful banter can be heard on the steps as our company interrupts Eve’s reading, and she places her book down.
The long, deep ebony hair is the first thing I see as Lila Barron’s presence fills the plane, her Dom on her heels.
“Jones Wagner.” I stand. Reaching for Lila, I bring her in for a hug, then shake her life partner’s hand. “Lila, like normal, you’re a beauty.” Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Eve’s jaw and shoulders tighten.
“Come have a seat. What can I get you to drink?” I’d sent a driver in order to spoil them since this is a conversation I should have set up a while ago.
“Scotch for me, a chardonnay for my beauty.” He points at a seat, and she sits, on command.
“Actually, I called you here today to share with my own beauty”—I point at Eve—“how you distinguish the D/s relationship from your normal life.”
With one shake of his head, Lila relaxes, telling her silently to abstain from her submissive role.
Lila stands, and in her grace, she extends her hand to Eve. “I’m Lila Barron. This is my partner, Jones Wagner.”
Eve extends her own hand. “Eve Lipton, nice to meet you.” Calling for the stewardess, I give her our drink order, sitting down near Eve as Jones and Lila sit across from us on the couch.
Jones’s face holds a small little smirk of amusement. “Okay, asshole,” I begin, “ask your questions.”
He directs his comments to Eve. “I’ve never known Chad to travel with his sub.”
“I’m not his sub. He wants me to be, but I’m not sure in what way. I’m not built to submit to him, to be ordered around and then be thrown away.”
It’s Lila’s turn to laugh at Eve’s explanation. “Let me share a little about us.” She turns her attention to Jones. “Is that okay with you, Master?” Eve’s mouth gapes open, but she doesn’t look away from the striking sub.
“Yes, my slave.” Jones directs his attention to Eve. “Technically, we aren’t in a D/s role right now. Lila always reverts to it in the presence of another Dom, plus she’s showing me the respect as a visual for you. We’ve chatted with many wanting to enter the life, but honestly, if you see us at home, we’re like any couple.”
He nods his head for Lila to continue. “A little about our story. I’m a very assertive person, an alpha female some call me.” Jones chuckles, and he affectionately squeezes her hand. “I have to be in charge at my job, and I deal with a lot of assholes. I want one place in my life where I don’t have to think and only feel. And because I love Jones with all my heart and he’s truly my soul mate, I give him all the control.”
She averts her eyes from him. “I’m done, Master.”
“Thanks, my sweetest.” His gaze shoots from Lila to Eve. “We are unique because by nature, I’m not an overly assertive man. I, too, have a demanding job. With the control Lila has given me, it has allowed me to be more assertive in my job as, in the beginning, I’d let everyone walk all over me. I learned so much in the submission Lila has freely given.” He takes a sip of his scotch. “We play at the club Chad owns here in LA. And there are many that are in a 24/7 D/s relationship. It works for them, but it’s not what we were looking for. We’ve made rules, where and when I expect her to submit, and over time, it’s become natural. We don’t share this with many. Lila’s twin is in more of a 24/7 relationship, but even theirs is different. Here’s the thing.” Jones jingles his drink. “There’s no right or wrong answer as long as you have a Dom you can trust. This is paramount.”
Eve’s been so quiet, but like a sponge, she’s been soaking up all this information. “Do you have any questions, Kitten?”
“Wow, Chad, look at you. Kitten is the cutest,” Jones says, but it’s not in a joking way. He’s legitimately bestowing a sincere compliment to me.
“It fits her, though she wasn’t fond of it at first.” I turn my attention back to Eve. “Jones is a very different person than I am. But Lila is similar to you in many ways, so I thought this would give you a better education of how a relationship
can work.”
Her attention returns to Lila. “So, this was your suggestion to be his sub?”
She nods. “Jones and I have quite the history. One day, when we have more time, I’d love to share it with you, but until then, I started to submit to him in the bedroom. When I brought this up, it was an easy conversation to have because he’d already seen how willing I was to please him.”
The conversation turns to Lila’s career in fashion, and Jones’s job as an ophthalmologist. After a half an hour, I make some arrangements for us at the Seattle club, and we say our good-byes.
“Here’s my number.” Lila hands Eve her business card. “You ever want to chat or if you have any questions, call me or text anytime.” The girls hug, I shake Jones’s hand, and they deplane the aircraft.
“Do you have any questions for me?” I ask when the pilots enter the plane.
“You’d allow a relationship like they have?”
I don’t answer her at first, lifting my empty glass in the air, waiting for a refill. “I’d be open to a discussion of how we could make a Dom/sub relationship work for us. But you have to remember, I’m built like this and need to be involved as a Dom in our life.” She reluctantly nods, a tight smile on her face. “Well, then let’s get this bird in the air. I have something more I want to share with you.”
Our landing in Seattle is uneventful as my car waits for us when we deplane. After settling into my Corvette I keep for myself at the airport of the Emerald City, our luggage is loaded into the car, and we’re off.
“Am I able to ask anything, Sir?” She says the last word with so much ease, I’m lost in the submission of it. I’ve not required her to call me Sir, not for a while, yet here she is, doing it.