by Anna Martin
“He can’t take me. I don’t want to go.”
He nodded. “Good.”
“Are you mad at me?”
I hated myself for asking, but his reactions weren’t exactly what I’d been expecting.
Will nodded tightly. “Yeah. A bit.”
“I probably deserve that.”
“I’m a lot madder at him, though. He knows we’re together. He’s been trying to get this for weeks, and I let him… I should have….”
I slid from the chair to the floor and tentatively took his arms, wrapping them around my neck. I pulled him close to my chest and hung on.
“I just wanted a friend,” I whispered, the confession feeling hollow and painful and ridiculously childish at the same time.
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t try and stop you seeing him. Even though I knew he wanted you.”
“Then why didn’t you say something?” I asked.
Will shook his head. “I’m not going to be the asshole who gets between you and your friends.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again, the unavoidable truth that I had done something wrong coloring my thoughts.
“Don’t be. Don’t apologize anymore.”
I nodded and took deep breaths, calming us both down while his fingers played with my hair. I wasn’t sure what happened next.
Will surprised me, though, as he so often did.
“Kiss me like he kissed you,” he said.
“What? Really?”
“Yeah. I want to know.”
It was a weird request, but if he needed that… well. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for him.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, held them there for two seconds, not moving, then sat back again. I didn’t even close my eyes.
Will blinked. “Was that it?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
He gave me an odd sort of smile. This time, he leaned into me, caught my jaw between his palms, and kissed me back. When he kissed me, I didn’t care about throat infections and antibiotics and arguments. We both needed this.
I knew this kiss. It was his “I own you” kiss. Most of the time he used it when we were playing together, and I was tied up, unable to move, unable to protest or do anything other than kiss him back. It was also his “I love you” kiss. Will never said those words in a session. He’d told me once he didn’t want me to think his love for me was conditional on my submission—the two things were interlocked, but separate.
This was not a two-second lips-closed kiss in a parking lot. It was my partner showing me everything he felt.
For long minutes, we stayed like that, kneeling on the floor while we explored each other’s skin with roaming hands, tugging at clothes while our mouths did all the work of exchanging words and love and adoration.
Will broke away first, his breathing a little rough.
“That,” he said, “is how you should be kissed.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Chapter 20
THINGS CHANGED after The Kiss. I was suddenly more insecure, more nervous than I’d been in a long time. Will was furious, not that he told me this, but I could tell. He wouldn’t let me know, wouldn’t tell me outright how much it had upset him. I had learned a while ago that I needed to interpret that sort of thing.
We tiptoed around each other for a few days, glossing over the things that hurt while we both threw ourselves at our jobs.
“What are you working on?” Will asked, sitting next to me on the couch. I automatically minimized the desktop windows I had open.
“Just some stuff,” I said.
It was more work for Serena. She’d given me a huge pile of spreadsheets to organize, which was normally one of my favorite tasks, but they were in one hell of a mess. I was partly frustrated, partly loving the challenge of untangling and fixing it all.
Will gave a tiny, annoyed huff. “Is it work for the museum?”
“Yeah… just a few documents.” I closed the laptop and turned to face him, plastering a smile on my face. “You want to go do something?”
“No. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” He stalked off to the kitchen. After a moment, I followed him.
He was in the process of making a pitcher of iced tea.
“I’m working on some spreadsheets for Serena,” I said, leaning against the wall. “It’s nothing.”
“I’m not annoyed because you’re doing work. I’m annoyed because you seem so intent on hiding it from me.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“No? It certainly fucking feels that way.”
“My job is important to me. Sometimes I just want to get on with it and forget….”
“Forget me?”
“No!”
Will shoved the pitcher of tea into the fridge and slammed the door shut. “I’m trying, Jess, so help me. All I want is for you to involve me a tiny bit in what’s going on with you. It’s not like I’m going to stop you from doing your job.” He gave me a hard stare. “Is that what you think I’ll do?”
“Of course it isn’t. I suppose….” I tried to figure out exactly what was going on. There really wasn’t any reason to keep this from him. I knew I was being stupid. “I need something that’s mine. I need that autonomy….”
“Don’t you have that now?”
“Not really, Will. I’m not the main earner in this house, and I won’t ever be while I do this job. I like having my own job, being independent.”
I saw when it clicked for him. “Is this about money?”
Sort of, it was. I didn’t like the venom in his tone, though, so I said, “No.”
“It fucking is, isn’t it? Jesus.” He stalked past me into the living room, heading for his office. I caught his wrist.
“All right, so where will we be, Will, if something happens to one of us? I don’t want to think about it either, and I know I’m being fucking morbid, so forgive me for that, please. I’m terrified of being without you.” That confession hurt. I couldn’t bear to say this stuff most of the time. “It haunts my fucking nightmares to think there might be a day when I have to do what my dad is doing and wake up every morning without the person I dedicated my life to.”
“You think I don’t feel that way too?” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air. “You think it’s any different for me?”
“No! But it is different for you. Your life outside of me is different.”
“Don’t,” he said in a warning tone. “Don’t go there, Jesse.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling totally, utterly helpless. “I don’t want to have to think it. But you don’t have to worry about being homeless if we split up. You’ll be okay. You have your family around you in Seattle. You’re a wonderful man, Will. You don’t ask for anything from me you know I can’t afford. I’ll never make the money you make, though, and….”
“Why do you think I bought this place?” he demanded. “Your name is on the fucking deed, Jess. Not mine.”
“What?”
“It’s your house. Your house, near your family. This—all of this—is for you.”
“What…. Why would you do that?”
“So you don’t have to worry! I will never, ever stop loving you, but if you change your mind and want to leave, you have somewhere to go. You’re not trapped by me anymore, Jesse. This is your plan B.”
“I don’t need a plan B. There is no plan B in my life.”
He shrugged. “I don’t want this to come between us. I never had any intention of telling you unless it actually came down to the line. Even if one day things all fall apart….”
“They won’t,” I said.
“No. They won’t. Because I won’t ever stop fighting for you.”
That made me wobble. “This is stupid. We’re fighting over something that will never happen.”
“It doesn’t make your fears any less real, though. Yeah, I earn more than you. That’s why I have trusts drawn up in your name. That’s why I have a will that
clearly states that everything I have goes to you first if anything happens to me, then my sisters. The fucking government in this country won’t protect us even if we do get married, not financially anyway. I’ve got you covered, Jesse. I promise.”
“You don’t need to… to provide for me. I can stand on my own.”
“You can, but you don’t have to. That’s the whole point—we’re fine on our own. We don’t need anyone else. I can live without you, Jesse, but I really don’t want to.”
Will turned away from me and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. That broke me.
“Marry me,” I whispered. Familiar words now. “Marry me, Will.”
“How many more times are we going to ask each other?” he said, with still-damp eyes.
“How about this is the last time? No more asking. Let’s just do it.”
My throat was sore from yelling and thick with emotion; I wasn’t ready for this, any of this, not ready to expose myself so fully to my fears and be brought back again by the man I loved.
Will grabbed hold of my hands, stepping close to me. We really were almost exactly the same height. He had maybe an inch on me, tops.
Not when he knelt down, though, still holding onto my hands and looking up.
“Jesse Ross, would you do me the incredible honor of being my husband?”
“You always have to have the last word, don’t you?”
That made him laugh and press his forehead to our joined hands.
“Yes,” I said. “Always yes. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you from this angle before. It looks good on you.”
He pulled me to the floor then, and I held on to him, wanting to spill apologies but knowing they weren’t needed and would only fan the embers of a dying argument. Will’s arms around me were the solid anchor that held my life together, even when it felt like everything was falling apart. I could rage and scream and yell at him, but this wouldn’t ever change. I belonged to him and, however much it terrified me, he belonged to me right back.
“I want a spring wedding,” he said, pulling me farther down so we could sit on the floor with our backs resting against the couch. My hand found his, and we tangled our fingers together. “And since Jennifer put the idea out there, I want to get married in our yard.”
“Here? Or at home?”
“At home, I think. Something simple.”
I hummed in agreement. The specifics could wait, for a few more months at least. His idea was perfect, though.
“No more asking each other? Really?”
“Asking each other all the time was our way of avoiding the issue,” Will said, smirking at me. “And you know it, so don’t try and deny it.”
“I can’t offer you much, I know that. You’ve got everything I am, though.”
“No, you give me everything,” he said, and dropped his head to my shoulder. “You’re going to need to stop saying that, or I’ll beat your ass raw.”
“I’d only enjoy it.”
“Mm.”
“My husband,” I said, trying the words out on my tongue. “This is my husband-to-be.”
He laughed. “This is Jesse, my better half.”
I swung my leg over to sit astride his thighs, then gently laid my lips on his, kissing him sweetly. He ran his hand up and down my back a few times, bunching up my shirt then smoothing it out.
“I honestly don’t know how I would have coped doing this without you,” I said, running my thumb back and forth across the back of his hand. “I mean, I really, honestly, could not have coped not being here. And I don’t know how to be without you around.”
Will smiled, giving me one of those secretly pleased smiles, and I just wanted to crawl inside him.
“Let’s go home,” I said.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’ve done what I came here to do, even though when I got here I didn’t know that’s what it was. So… it’s time to move on.”
“What about the house?” he asked.
I looked around. We’d done a lot to the “old Miller place” in the past few months. It wasn’t abandoned and run-down any more. It was a warm, loving home for someone. Just not us.
“You could rent it out,” I said. “You’d eventually get a return on your investment.”
“I had another idea,” he said cautiously. “We could let Jennifer live here.”
I blinked at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I mean, she could take care of it and stuff until she’s in a position to buy it or wants to move on. We can deal with it then. She wants to get a place of her own, but renting is expensive and she doesn’t want to be far from your dad. This could work for her, you know? Plus, I don’t think it’s going to drop much in value now.”
“You’re an amazing man.”
Will shrugged. “She’s like another sister to me, you know? She’s family.”
His ability to be totally amazing never changed. I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re pretty much my husband,” he murmured softly. “And we’ll make that official soon enough. Your family, my family. Same thing.”
That was good.
“Let’s go,” I repeated.
“Okay.”
THERE WERE a few things I had to do before we left Georgia. Will and I took flowers to Mama’s grave—pink lilies, her favorite. I promised to come back and visit her again soon and laid my lips on the cool marble headstone. There was a finality to this good-bye that made my chest ache, and Will held my hand all the way back to the car.
I drove back to our house and dropped Will off, leaning over to kiss him softly before turning around and heading out to the next county over. My stomach was in knots, turning up the bacon and eggs I’d made for breakfast and threatening to expel it all.
When I pulled up in front of Ben’s house, I forced myself to take a deep breath and calm down. Before leaving the car, I sent Will a quick text, letting him know I’d arrived safe and I loved him. This visit had been his idea.
It had become a simple fact that Will knew me better than I knew myself. For all of his rage toward Ben and his misguided, unwelcome advances, my partner also knew that Ben had been an important part of my life for a few months. I’d never meant for anyone to get hurt. On reflection, Will and I had definitely learned something about pulling other people into our D/s relationship: feelings other than our own could get hurt.
I let the car door slam shut, an advance warning to Ben, if he was listening, that someone was approaching the house. I guessed he’d be in his workshop, and followed the noise of the radio around the house, then hesitated in the doorway.
Ben looked up from where he was working on a spindle. “Well. I never thought I was going to see you again.”
“Hi,” I said softly. “Can I come in?”
He shrugged, and I stepped over the threshold. The room was warm and light, the scent of wood sweet and earthy. With the sun streaming in through the window, I could see miniscule particles of dust dancing in the air.
“Why are you here?” Ben asked.
I trailed my fingers over the unfinished top of a bookcase. “We’re moving back to Seattle,” I said, forcing myself to look up and meet his eyes. There was hurt there. It was humbling to know I was the one to cause it.
“Oh.”
“Will asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Ben snapped.
“Because I don’t want you to think that you didn’t matter to me,” I said. “I never meant for you to get caught up in everything.”
“Your kinky sex games?”
“You weren’t a kinky sex game,” I said. “Trust me, if you were, I would never have agreed to see you again after that first night.”
“Whatever, Jesse,” he said, shaking his head. He ran his hand over the smooth spindle, checking it for splinters.
“I don’t have many friends,” I admitted quietly. I never had. I was comfortable in my own company; I
didn’t need to surround myself with people. “I know I probably spend too much time with Will in our little bubble, but it’s hard for me to trust people.”
“You don’t need to use him as an excuse, you know,” Ben said. “He’s this shield between you and the rest of the world and it’s not fucking healthy.”
“He’s everything to me.”
“That’s not healthy either.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. He feels the same way about me, if that’s any consolation.”
“Not really.” Ben sighed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m sorry, Jesse. I don’t know why you came here.”
“To say good-bye,” I said. “To say sorry. I wish things were different and we could stay friends.”
Ben looked at me until I squirmed. Then he pushed himself to his feet and crossed the workshop to me and pulled me into a hug. This time his advances didn’t feel sexual at all. It was a hug from someone who didn’t understand a lot of things about me but knew a lot more. I hugged him back, inhaling deeply his unique scent of spice and sawdust.
“If you ever come back to the area, look me up,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I will,” I promised. “See you later.”
He nodded, and I turned to leave.
“Oh, Jesse?”
“Yeah?”
“Congratulations on the engagement.”
“Thanks,” I said with a grin.
Back at the house, Will had made a decent start on getting our stuff into boxes. It was weird to see the house I’d restored and turned into a home being deconstructed again only a few months after we’d built that home together.
“How was it?” Will asked, looking up from where he was packing DVDs.
“Okay,” I said. “Good. We cleared the air, I think.”
“Good,” he echoed.
I ruffled Will’s hair as I passed him on my way to the kitchen, a familiar, affectionate gesture. What I’d told Ben was true—we were everything to each other. I knew people outside our bubble wouldn’t always understand, and that was fine. He was the love of my life. Nothing else mattered.