Safeword: Davenport

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Safeword: Davenport Page 12

by Candace Blevins


  He answered immediately, and she recognized his voice without a doubt. “Sir Brent, it's Dana."

  "Hello, lovely Dana, I'm so happy to hear from you. We can dispense with the Sir though; we're not at the club, my dear."

  She smiled into the phone. “Are you still going to the club? Have you found your true love?"

  "Yes, I'm still a member, and yes, I've found my true love. I have a charming submissive man at my beck and call, who only has one fault that I can find."

  Dana chuckled. “Only one? Surely no one can be so close to perfect?"

  "I'll concede a few minor irritations, but only one actual flaw."

  Gods, she'd missed him—their wonderful conversations, and his unique view of life in general. She wanted to kick herself for pushing him away. “Ah, well that's different. What is this flaw you speak of?"

  "He's bisexual. He likes to fuck women, too. I occasionally have to lend him out to a Domme so he can get his girl fix."

  Dana couldn't help it, she laughed in spite of herself. “Oh, Sir Brent, you poor thing. You must really love the man to let him bring girl cooties into your house."

  "Yes, I suppose I do. Now that I've shared, it's your turn. Please, tell me how you're doing."

  "I... well. I started dating awhile back, but it was all vanilla stuff. I mean, Garnet's the one who brought out my submission, I didn't think I could ever submit to anyone else, but I've realized vanilla sex isn't going to do it for me, and I was contemplating the possibilities of finding a sadist who wasn't interested in the D/s aspects when I met a Dom. Kind of by chance."

  She sighed. “We went out a few times, and I submitted to him last weekend, but now... I don't know. I like him, but I feel like I need more experience—more something — before I head into another relationship. Does that make sense?"

  "It makes perfect sense. I think you should Top someone, to see how it is, get a feel for it. “

  "Oh, gee. No, I don't think so. I wouldn't mind bottoming without submitting, but I'm not interested in Topping."

  "Maybe not, but I believe you'd benefit from the perspective. Once you understand what it takes to Top, and can appreciate the emotional differences of Topping versus bottoming, I'm certain it will dissolve some of the conflict you're feeling. But, of course, it's entirely up to you. Do you have plans for the weekend? We're going to the club Saturday evening—if you'd like to drive up early we can talk, have dinner, and you can go as our guest. We have a spare bedroom you're more than welcome to, if you'd like to spend the night before returning home the next day."

  "Oh, Sir Brent. That's a very generous offer.” She thought fast, deciding what she was comfortable with. “What if I drive up and spend part of the day with you, decide if I'm up for visiting the club once I'm there? If I am then great, if not I'll head home. I'd love to hang out with you, catch up on lost time, and meet your new... what do I call him? Boyfriend? Partner? Submissive?"

  She could hear the gentle smile in his voice as he said, “His name is Jacob, and you can call him any of those things. They're all true, in one way or another."

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  Chapter Fourteen

  * * * *

  Dana changed outfits three times before taking the elevator downstairs and crossing the alley into Coolidge Park. She needed to dress nice for the restaurant, but didn't want to look sexy, and her business clothes were too professional for a date. She finally settled on taupe dress pants, a cream-colored flowing silk shirt, and a knee length burnt sienna cashmere cardigan sweater. It wasn't until she was passing the mirror on her way out the door that she realized she wasn't wearing any color, and realized it fit her mood.

  Zach was watching the kids on the carousel when she walked up and he gave her a tentative smile, as if he wasn't sure how to greet her. She felt guilty for putting that look on his face, but she didn't know how to greet him, either. She chose the easy route. “Hungry?"

  "I could eat. How was your day?"

  "It was... you know what? It was better than the other days this week. Thank you for giving me some space. I'm sorry I hurt you by taking it, and I'm not promising I won't need more while I figure a few things out, but I'll explain where my head is right now, and trust you'll understand. Do you think we can work with that?"

  His gaze flickered over her face, his eyes considering. “Yes, I'm pretty sure we can. Let's walk down to the Delta Queen. As much as I enjoy the carousel, I'm fascinated by this old boat."

  "I think boat is an understatement."

  "Point. You sound better today than you did yesterday on the phone."

  "I am better. Garnet's mother came to my office after I talked with you. I hadn't returned her calls either, and she's not one to cotton to being ignored. She told me Marcie was wrong, apologized on her behalf, said she was glad I'm finally moving on, and gave me her blessings. It lifted this huge weight off my heart—I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear it from her.” She paused as kids ran in front of them, chasing a runaway hula-hoop. “I also made a few decisions, but let's get seated before I go into them. How's your wind-power project coming?"

  "I've put it to the side while I explore the light-bulb moment I had over the weekend. It's come together fast, and I'm writing proposals already, with one functioning prototype built, and a way to build it better, I think."

  "Oh wow! That's great. Congrats."

  They walked across the permanent pier onto the ship, making their way to the restaurant. Dana was fascinated by the old riverboat—the people who'd been on it, the craftsmanship that'd gone into building it. She was busy looking around, admiring the woodwork, when Zach said, “It's too bad she can't carry passengers anymore. I understand the need for fire codes, but when they put a piece of history out of business, it's just sad. I'm glad the owners found a way to keep her in service, even if she is just a floating hotel these days."

  Their talk remained casual as they made their way to the restaurant and were seated. Zach ordered a bottle of wine, and their waiter brought it out with a flourish, doing the formal wine presentation thing. They placed their orders and were finally left alone, with silence between them.

  Dana took a sip of her wine and began. “It's probably important you understand one of the reasons I bolted is because my feelings for you are so strong. If I just liked you a little, could only see this working out for a few months, I'm pretty sure I'd be fine with the whole thing."

  Zach leaned back, his body language placing more distance between them. “But you aren't fine with it."

  "The next thing you need to understand is what I must do to be comfortable with it. After much deliberation, I've decided it's not my intention to play the coward and be too scared to take a chance."

  She took a breath, steadying herself. “However, I am afraid, and I have a few other concerns I should share with you.” She paused, contemplating the best way to explain. “Look, you know what it's like, being half of a unit and then forced to reconstruct yourself as a complete person again—to not be part of a couple anymore, don't you?"

  He considered her words a moment and nodded. “I'm not sure I thought of it in those terms, exactly, but yes, I can see how that's part of it."

  His voice was still cold, but she couldn't blame him. She'd hurt him, and it was up to her to repair the damage. “It was substantial for me, and it's only been in the past eight or ten months I've felt I was succeeding. It isn't as if Garnet managed my career, or told me what to do twenty-four/seven, but I had no idea how much I talked to him, how often he gave me advice. But, it's more than that. It's like he was a huge pillar in my life, his mere presence behind me gave me strength and courage. I had to strengthen my own backbone, so it could be my support."

  She shook her head. “I'm not saying this right. I'm making it sound like I was a weakling who depended on him for sustenance, and that's not it. He was always there, in case I needed to lean on him, and when he wasn't there anymore, it wasn't just having the rug pulled out from under me,
it was having the roof over my head and the walls around me disappear as well."

  Zach leaned forward, placing his hand over hers. “I understand. Bethany was my support in many ways, too. When I was frustrated, she knew how to help me vent my frustrations, when I was sad she understood when to let me wallow and just hold me, and when to nicely make me stop feeling sorry for myself. I had no idea how much she helped me deal with everyday life until she wasn't there to do it anymore. I was her twenty-four/seven Owner, I dictated almost everything to her, and yet she was also my support. Without her, I started working out a whole lot more; it was the only way I could deal with some of my emotions."

  Dana nodded. “Okay then, that's part of it. I've just recreated who I am, and the idea of losing part of myself in another relationship is... I don't want to say scary, because I understand the things I'll gain, it's not all about loss, but I'm walking into it with both eyes open this time."

  He squeezed her hand reassuringly and let go, leaning back again, but not as far as before. “I need you to answer something. If we hadn't seen his sister, would you've avoided me this week?"

  She shook her head. “No. I believe we'd still be having a similar conversation, but I wouldn't have pushed you completely out while I sorted through everything."

  Not sure how to take his nod, and not brave enough to ask, she continued, her words tripping over themselves. “This next part... I had no idea I felt this way until Thursday, but it's there, and I have to figure out what to do about it. There's this fear that you and I will fall into a long-term relationship and then I'll have only submitted to two people, and I want to experience more than that. It's screwed up, but if I knew we'd just last a few months I could relax and enjoy it, but things are so intense with you, and I like you so much, I feel the need to back off and... I don't know... experiment?"

  She wasn't sure how he'd handle this part, and knew it could be a deal breaker between them, so she watched closely for hints as to how he was taking it. He didn't give her any clues, merely looked at her a good thirty seconds before leaning back to take a sip of his wine. He kept his eyes on her as he sipped, then seemed to deflate a little as he carefully placed the wine glass exactly back where it'd been, and used one finger to rub the bridge of his nose.

  "My first instinct was to tell you to go experiment and come back to me when you've got it out of your system, but that's not the right answer, so I'm glad I thought it through before saying it. Part of me wants to tell you I'll make sure you get what you need, that I've got friends I can loan you to, who I know you'll be safe with.” He stopped, shook his head. “But I realize you have to do this on your own, so while the offer is there, I understand why I can't walk you through this."

  Dana took a breath to talk, but he began again before she could start. “I worry about you, though. You let me tie you up much earlier than you should've. You were safe with me, so it worked out okay, but if I'd been one of those assholes who don't always respect a safeword you could've gotten hurt, and I'm not certain you had enough information to know I was trustworthy, at the time. So, I want you to promise me you'll be safer with other people than you were with me. I'll give you some guidelines to follow, and you can run them by Kirsten."

  She smiled. “I'm touched by your concern, but if you'll recall, we worked together for months before our first date. Yes, I let you restrain me the first time we played, but I'd seen you in action enough to know your character. You can tell a lot about a person by the way he treats...” She trailed off and started over. “You don't see anyone as insignificant. Whether it's the guy who mows your lawn, or the craftsmen working in your home, you learn all of their names. For the ones you see regularly, like the people who care for your yard, you remember their children's names, you find out if they like to fish, or play golf, and you ask them about these things. So yes, I trusted you to bind me the first night. I'll look at your guidelines, but I assure you I won't be stupid."

  "Okay,” he said, appearing uncomfortable with the praise. “If you have another friend who can be your safe call that's fine, but I can handle it if you don't."

  "That's the next part—I think I have someone, but I won't know until... let me start at the beginning. I had a good friend in Nashville, I'm pretty sure Garnet only let me be as close to him as I was because he's gay, but for whatever reason, Garnet supported our friendship. We emailed, we talked on the phone, and when we were at the club for social occasions, Garnet let us hang out together if I wasn't already in a deep headspace when we arrived. They were sociable with each other, and had mutual respect, but they weren't close. Sir Brent was my friend."

  She paused as the servers arrived with their food, waiting until they left to continue. “I hadn't talked to him since before Garnet...” She still had trouble putting the word died after his name so she trailed off and started over, her words coming faster as her anxiety grew. “I've got a different computer now, so I didn't have his contact information anymore. I looked him up, and we talked on the phone for hours. He's in a relationship, and he invited me to come to Nashville in the morning to hang out with him and his partner for the day, and—if I'm up to it—go as their guest to the club tomorrow evening. I'm welcome to their spare bedroom if I want to stay the night, since we'll get in late. Sir Brent is a highly respected Dom. You know how each club has a handful of mentors everyone respects? If I decide to play, he'll make sure I'm safe."

  "His partner is submissive to him?"

  "Yes. Sir Brent's a demanding Top and plays rough; I imagine his partner is very submissive."

  She picked up her fork and began eating; figuring she needed to hear from Zach, get a feel for how he felt before she said anything else. They ate in silence for longer than she was comfortable, but she bit her tongue and gave him time to think.

  The waiter refilled Dana's water, and when he walked away, Zach said, “Would it be out of line for me to request Brent's name and address, a text letting me know you've arrived safely, and your decision of whether to go to the club or not? I can't demand these things, so I'm asking."

  She looked at him a second, and quickly realized, “It's not a control thing. You're worried about me. You want to know I'm safe."

  He gave a terse nod and she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, relaxed muscles she hadn't known were tense. “In that case, I'll give you more than you're asking. I'll text you when I arrive, and I'll give you a phone call when I make the decision of whether to go to the club or not. If I choose to go with them, I'll either call or text you when we get back to their place, and I'll call you once I'm on the road coming home the next day. I won't give you his full name, but I'll email you his address before I leave."

  "Thank you. I trust you'll be safe with someone you consider a friend. But it's a long drive."

  Dana talked on the phone to her sister most of the way to Nashville, catching up on her nieces’ latest antics and accomplishments, and sharing the vanilla parts of her budding relationship with Zach. It felt good to talk it through, to hear from her sister he seemed like a nice guy, and it was okay to ease into it slowly, to get a feel for things as she went. She got off the phone at Murfreesboro, as she'd need to pay attention to her GPS guiding her the rest of the way in.

  Sir Brent worked in the country music industry and was a much sought after video producer and director. He'd told her his partner was also in “the business,” but hadn't elaborated. She couldn't see the house when the GPS informed her she'd reached her destination, only the immense iron gate between an elaborate brick fence. She stretched out the window to enter the last five digits of her cellphone number, and as she touched the final digit the gate silently slid sideways. She drove through and stopped long enough to text Zach she'd arrived safely.

  The driveway went over a rise and the house glided into view—large, but the architecture and landscaping kept it from appearing as big as her professional eye instantly recognized. Her first thought was how well it fit Sir Brent's personality—al
l brick, solid, without being pretentious or imposing. He was sitting on the top step and stood to walk to her as she parked.

  She was out of the car before he reached her, and without saying a word he pulled her into a bear hug, enfolding her body into his large frame before saying, “It's so good to see you; I've missed you."

  He held her a long moment and pulled back to look at her, his eyes taking in her shorter hair. “You'd changed your number by the time I called, and when I tried your work they said you were no longer there. I was worried Garnet had decided he didn't want us to be friends anymore, so I didn't try another way to reach you. I'm sorry for that now, as it sounds like you could've used a friend who wouldn't take no for an answer."

  She shook her head. “Maybe, I don't know. Either way, it's in the past and I'm here now. When do I get to meet the love of your life?"

  He smiled, his face lighting up. “He's inside. Can I help you carry anything?"

  "I've got an overnight bag, just in case, but I'll leave it in the car for now. I love your home, it fits you."

  He looped her arm into his and walked towards the front entranceway. “Thank you. Jacob and I bought it about eight months ago. We may not be allowed to get married in the great state of Tennessee, but nothing ties two people together quite like owning a home."

  "I'm so happy for you. You said he was in the business, you didn't tell me what he does?"

  "He's a make-up artist and clothing designer. Not many people are good enough to specialize in both. He employs an excellent hair stylist, and the two of them together can get someone ready from beginning to end—hair, clothes, and makeup. He's in high demand, and I'm very proud of him."

  Brent opened the front door and motioned for her to enter. She stepped into a beautiful foyer and paused, unsure of which direction to go.

 

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