by Qwillia Rain
She didn’t begrudge Charlie the comfort of Dayton’s presence. What she resented was the way Dayton consistently pushed her away whenever she tried to offer him comfort. No hug was returned. When she’d try to talk to him about the situation, he’d brush her off, and ask questions about what fires she’d quelled at the office while he was gone.
Ten days after the phone call, Charlie died. Having been in pain, and missing his little boy the way Dayton had told her, a part of Elf was happy his suffering was over.
Hers, unfortunately, had just begun.
She’d woken alone in their bed. Drawing on her robe, draped over the end of the bed, she’d moved into the living room to find Dayton sitting on the sofa, hands gripped around a steaming cup of coffee.
“I’ve packed your things.” His voice was brusque, eyes shuttered, hiding all feelings.
None of the decorations she’d put up were in evidence. Even the shoes she dropped next to the elevator doors the night before were gone.
“While you were sleeping, I took your stuff to your car. I left some clothes for you in the closet.” Dayton sipped his coffee, his eyes moving from her to the object in front of him.
On the glass-topped coffee table before him, her treasure chest sat locked with its antique-style lock, key still inserted in the keyhole.
“Why?”
“It’s over.”
“Because I told you I love you?” She had to know.
The slight tensing of his body before he rose to move past her into the kitchen was her only hint. A hint she could only decipher as reluctance to respond.
“No.” He rinsed the cup and turned. Facing her, hands crossed over his flannel-clad chest, ankles crossed as he leaned against the counter. “I don’t want you anymore.”
Hiding the pain, she had nodded.
“I told you this wouldn’t be a relationship, Elf.” Shadowed blue eyes watched her.
Elf wondered if her expression gave any hint to her feelings. The change in how he addressed her hurt more than she expected. Knowing Dayton was hiding from his emotions was bad enough. If she thought he could see how his words were ripping the heart from her chest, she didn’t think she’d be able to work with him any longer.
“I remember,” she assured him. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “I need a shower. I assume it is okay for me to do that here?”
“Yes.” Moving back into the living room, he hefted the treasure chest. “I’ll go put this in your car.”
At the graveside, Elf watched the descent of the casket and likened it to her own deepening sorrow. Her proximity to Dayton had her body humming.
Donning her underwear every morning was an exercise in torture, as she remembered the stroke of his fingertips over her flesh, and the attention he’d paid to her needs. The tips of her breasts ached from the chain she continued to wear. His collar still adorned her neck, and the waist chain rested on her hips. Matching bracelets and anklets he’d given her on Christmas morning helped her maintain the illusion that, even though he might deny it to himself, she still acknowledged his ownership of her.
Even as he solicitously held her elbow as they moved through the cemetery to their cars, Elf wondered at his stubborn refusal to admit what he really felt. How he could deny the sexual commitment he’d made to her, trained her to expect. She knew him too well to accept that he didn’t love her.
Too many times in the days they’d been apart, she’d seen the gleam enter his eyes. The sudden twisting of his body to hide his arousal, or the absent slide of his hand over her hip or ass before he caught himself, reassured her his passion and attraction was still present. It was just getting past his damned, inflexible intention to stay isolated, that prevented their being together.
Even the heat of her body through the wool coat sent his body into over drive, Dayton admitted. Seeing his brand on her in the form of his collar, and the chains encircling her wrists and ankles, had his body and mind at war.
Mentally cursing his errant needs, he helped her into her car. Leaning down he braced himself in the open doorway. “I’ll see you back at the office. I need to take Sisters Agnes and Rachel back to the youth center.”
Her nod was the only response before she tugged the door closed, started the car, and drove away.
“She’s a lovely girl, Dayton.”
The gentle voice of Sister Agnes drifted past his shoulder. “And a hard worker,” he assured the woman who’d helped raise him.
“You need to stop fighting it, son.” The throaty chuckle should have belonged to a woman decades younger than the one who’d helped raise him. The sound alone made him look at her closely as he escorted her to the aged sedan, and held the passenger door open for her.
He waited until he’d opened and held the door for Sister Rachel before responding. “I’m not fighting anything,” he denied. Sliding behind the wheel, he started the car and gave it a few moments to warm up.
“Lying was never your strong suit, boy.” Sister Rachel snorted.
Looking at her in the rearview mirror, Dayton had to smile at the sardonic expression and shaking head the nun sent his way. “When have I ever lied to you?”
“The night you and the little Spencer girl fornicated beneath the outside steps of the center.” She raised a graying brow at his surprise.
His expression must have amused the older women, because Sister Agnes patted him on the hand as he shifted the car into drive and eased onto the paved path through the cemetery.
“We’re nuns, dear, not saints,” she reminded him.
“And we understand when a man is interested in a woman,” Rachel assured him. “Like you’re interested in your Elf.”
“My Elf…” He silently cursed the slip of his tongue, and hastily corrected himself. “Elf just works for me.”
A sadness entered Agnes’s eyes followed by an expression of disappointment. “You need to stop running, Dayton. Take the chance God has given you to be happy.”
Dayton deliberately ignored the advice, turning the conversation to something mundane. He refused to listen to the voice in his head shouting its agreement with Sister Agnes.
An hour later he was still fighting the instinct to claim Elf as his when he returned to Kringle Toys and was immediately called to the workshop floor.
The black suit coat and navy silk tie were abandoned as he stepped in to help assist in the repair of one of the smaller pieces of equipment. Though the majority of his mind focused on the machine before him, Dayton allowed his mind to sift through the emotions Sister Agnes’s advice and admonitions had stirred.
Yes, he still desired his Elf. Hell, she belonged to him in a manner none of his other lovers ever had. Even his two past relationships with subs had never reached the same depths of trust he’d experienced in the two weeks he’d had his Elf in his bed.
Loving her was out of the question. But wanting her was a battle he was growing tired of waging. She still wanted him. The admission she’d given regarding loving him could still send his heart hammering in his chest.
A woman like his Elf would demand everything in return for giving her heart, and that was a price he was unwilling to pay. The pain was too great when…
He forced his thoughts away from that box just as Elf’s voice sounded behind him.
“Dayton, Mr. Tenadon ‑‑”
Unfortunately, the minor distraction came at the wrong moment. The instant of inattention had his hand slipping off the casing he’d been adjusting and skipping over the sharp blades, slicing open his palm from wrist to the base of his forefinger.
Cursing, he stepped away from the machine, and turned toward the first aid room, colliding with his Elf. Blood dripped from his palm onto his shirt, before hitting the concrete floor. The other worker snapped out orders to get the foreman and the on-duty nurse, but Dayton’s full attention was focused on the woman in front of him.
“Oh, my God.” Her breath washed over him as her cool palms cradled his larger, rougher hands. “Let’s get y
ou into the first aid office.” She tried to tug him toward the room.
Other words were tumbling from her lips, but the heat filling his cock, the scent of her body so close to him, added to the frustration and anger building inside. He needed her touch, hungered after it like a starving man craved a banquet. And he hated that need, hated the weakness binding him to her, threatening to destroy him.
Because it would, he admitted. It would destroy him if he lost her the way he had his parents. The way he’d lost Charlie. The feral part of him that fought for protection reared up.
If he drove her away, the need would go away, it argued. He could ignore it, and, eventually he would be safe.
He had to be safe, Dayton told himself.
Pulling away from her, he snapped. “Damn it, Elf, I don’t need your help.”
Only the whir of the smaller machinery echoed in the cavernous building. The workers fell silent, watching the exchange, eyes wide.
“I was only…” Jade eyes held confusion.
“I don’t need you hovering over me,” he snapped.
“I wasn’t hovering.” Her voice was choked.
Shaking his head at her, he sneered. “You can’t stay away, can you? Can’t you get it through your head, I don’t want you anymore?”
“What?” She pulled away, cheeks going pink with embarrassment.
He had to send her away, he reminded himself. “I told you it was only sex.” Push her so far out of his life he couldn’t be tempted to give in again. “A couple of weeks of fucking doesn’t give you permanent rights to my attention.”
Elf flushed an even darker red.
“If you’re so hard up to get laid, find someone else.”
The crack of her hand across his cheek echoed in the silence. Grumbled curses and angry glares registered, but the pale features of his Elf had him fighting the compulsion to take her in his arms.
Her eyes held his a moment longer before she turned on her heel, shoulders back, head up, and calmly walked out of the building.
Success didn’t taste as good as he’d thought.
“You’re a damned fool, Dayton.” Doug Crenshaw growled as he gripped Dayton’s arm, and pulled him into the infirmary.
Nodding, Dayton agreed. “Yeah. But I’m a safe fool.”
“No, boy…” Doug shook his head, turning to the door as the nurse began examining the wound. “You’re just alone.”
* * * * *
Elf could feel the tears building behind her eyes, but she fought letting them free. There was no damned way she was going to allow Dayton the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Neither was she going to let any of the workers in the factory see how much his words hurt her.
If the damned man wanted to be alone, let him. She was through trying to figure out the whys of his behavior. Knowing the urge to hurt Dayton the second he walked through the office door would be hard to suppress, Elf took the path of least resistance. Scribbling a quick note that she’d be leaving for the afternoon, she arranged to have the receptionist answer any incoming calls, gathered her purse, and entered his office.
Setting the note on his desk, she took a deep breath, and severed the last tie she’d allowed him to have to her. Taking her time, she removed the chains from her nipples, waist, ankles, and wrists, and set them on top of the note. Unable to suppress the tears, she loosened her collar with trembling fingers, dropped it beside the other jewelry, and left.
As she pulled away from the office, Elf admitted she wasn’t surrendering the war for Dayton’s heart, just this particular battle. It was now his turn to decide which path their relationship would take. Absently rubbing the fingers of her right hand over her belly, she admitted to herself, she had other, more important, concerns to distract her.
Chapter Nineteen
“He’s an asshole,” Elf grumbled as she paced her living room.
Curled on the sofa, a cup of hot, spiced chai tea in her hand, Eleanor smiled at her. “Yes, dear, but he’s your asshole.”
“Ha!” She snorted. “Not after this.”
“Liar.”
Facing her mother, Elf planted her hands on her hips and glared in exasperation. “Mom, you’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am, sweetie.” She sipped her tea.
Pushing her mother for clarification would do no good. Elf knew from years of trying. When Eleanor was ready, she’d explain herself.
“If you didn’t love him so much, his boorish behavior wouldn’t have upset you.”
Add that to the box of little plastic sticks in my purse, and you might get an idea about the situation, she groused silently, wishing her mother, supportive as she was, could have picked a better time to drop in. Instead, she complained. “He practically called me a slut in front of all the swing shift workers.” Elf dropped into the oversized chair.
“Which was embarrassing to you, and rude of him, but you don’t hate him for it?”
“No.” If she were completely honest, Elf had felt a little thrill that he’d claimed their time together so publicly. It was as if by announcing it, no matter how crudely, Dayton had linked himself with her for all to see. And boy, will they “see” it in about five months, if one of those sticks develops a little pink plus sign.
“What pissed you off was the fact that he felt he had to push you away.”
“Exactly.” Elf crossed her arms over her chest. “It isn’t like I’ve been trailing after him, wringing my hands and sobbing for him to take me back.”
Eleanor chuckled. “You would never do something like that.”
“Right.”
“Honey.” Leaning forward, her mother set her mug on the coffee table, and met Elf’s gaze with a probing, determined stare. “Can you honestly tell me you didn’t see this coming?”
She thought about it. Having known Dayton for the last three years she’d seen both the good and bad in him. Generous as he was during the holidays, the rest of the year Dayton was selfish about his personal time. His company came first ‑‑ before anything or anyone. When he ended a relationship, he ended it. There was no going back, no staying friends.
The steadfast determination to remain isolated had always bewildered her. Learning about his parents’ deaths, and the one foster home he’d been in, she could now better understand his need to not depend on anyone besides himself.
Facing that information, and taking into consideration her mother’s question, Elf nodded. “No. I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. But I thought our relationship meant more to him.”
“Did he ever do anything to embarrass or insult his previous lovers?” Eleanor prompted.
Elf shook her head. “No. At the end of his other affairs he merely told his lover it was over, and that was that.”
“What about the ones who clung?”
“Nothing. He ignored their calls and messages. If they came by the office, he had a private chat with them, and it was done.”
“So…” Eleanor picked up her tea and leaned back into the cushions again. “Why do you think he went to such lengths to drive you away when, according to you, you hadn’t been ‘hovering’ over him?”
Thinking that over carefully, Elf offered, “Because he doesn’t want to need me?”
Eleanor quirked a brow and sipped her tea.
“If he didn’t want me, like he said, there would be no need to embarrass me.” Elf worked the situation out in her own head, using her mother as her sounding board, as she had so many times in the past. “But he does still want me.”
The hidden erections, the touches, all came to mind along with a grin. “He’s fighting himself, and he wants me to leave, so he doesn’t have to anymore.”
“And why would that be necessary? From all that you’ve told me about him, I don’t see Dayton as a weak man, unable to stop himself from doing something he doesn’t want to do,” her mother prompted.
“Because.” Elf could feel hope surge through her body. “The part that’s afraid to love me is being overtaken by the
part that wants me, needs me.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Let him stew for a while.”
* * * * *
Elf’s absence from the office didn’t surprise him, but his gut clenched and twisted when the niggling fear that she wouldn’t return whispered through his mind. That twist didn’t dissipate until he’d thoroughly examined her desk and noted the various personal items that were still in place.
Going through to his own office his throat constricted around a furious growl. The setting sun glinted off gold and silver links as he approached his desk. Bracing his uninjured hand on the desk, he glared down at the two separate piles. The larger one, he readily acknowledged having expected to find, eventually.
But the collar. The fucking collar was his to remove. Denying his ownership wasn’t… He stopped the thought.
As his sub, she had every right to reject his ownership. Especially when his very words and actions implied the connection had been severed. Drawing a deep breath, he carefully untangled the anklets and bracelets before looping them over his undamaged hand. The collar was shoved into his left pocket.
Beneath the chains he found the note she’d left saying she was taking the afternoon off. Folding it, he tucked it into his pocket with the collar. Gathering his keys, he moved into the elevator and up to his apartment.
Stripping out of his suit and ruined shirt, he grimaced as he tugged on jeans and a shirt. The chains were placed on the nightstand beside his bed. Stuffing his feet into battered sneakers, he pulled on his leather jacket ‑‑ the collar, note, and his wallet shoved into the inside pocket ‑‑ before he headed for the garage.
Pulling out into the evening traffic he reviewed the events following the scene in the factory. The company nurse had insisted on his going to get stitches in the emergency room. He’d done as she’d asked and gotten more than the tetanus shot, stitches, and prescription for pain relievers he’d anticipated.