by Stacey Lynn
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chloe
He unbound my hands swiftly and massaged feeling back into them, rubbing my fingers where my knuckles ached.
Good Lord, in a manner of weeks, Simon had ruined me for all other men, for all other dicks. Nothing would ever feel as good inside me as him, thrusting fiercely like he couldn’t get deep enough.
“You okay?” He slid his hand to the back of my neck and helped me sit up. My head collapsed against his bare chest. The mere scent of him, the pace of his pounding heart relaxed me. I snuggled into him deeper and nodded as his hands came around my waist.
“That was so good,” I mumbled. My lips brushed against his chest as I spoke and pressed tender, soft kisses to his skin. So rarely did I have the chance to touch him. I took advantage and ran my hands up his ribs, over the curves of his pecs and down his thick, muscled abs. The man was simply glorious. “I think I need a nap.”
His hands on my sides tightened. My skin was tender where he’d grabbed me and my ass was still sore from his earlier spankings. I’d sport bruises from today for days, and I liked it.
I couldn’t wait to hop off the medical bed which had provided a session that wasn’t anything close to medicinal and check the marks on my hips and behind.
“I’ll go get your clothes and get you home so you can get your nap in.”
He stepped away so quickly he left me feeling bereft. My skin chilled and I had to rock back so I didn’t fall forward.
“Simon? Sir?”
He stopped at the doorway, one hand on the frame and looked at me over his shoulder. “Yes?”
His small grin didn’t reach his eyes. His hair was completely messed and a droplet of sweat ran down his abs, showing the workout he’d done in screwing me mindless.
“Is everything okay?”
A sudden rush of fear rolled over me and I shivered. His smile was fake as he nodded. “Of course. Stay there and rest until I return.”
What had just happened? For me, all of his tender, gentle touches had thrown me into a tailspin. It’d taken everything I had not to shout how much I loved him while he was screwing me.
Simon returned holding my clothes in one hand and my boots in another. He set the pile of clothes next to me and the boots at my feet before he moved to a small sink and warmed a washcloth for me.
“Spread your legs so I can clean you, Little One.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder for balance. He wiped me clean from front to back with no pretense of playfulness or dominance in his expression. When he was done, he tossed the washcloth into the sink and reached for his T-shirt he’d discarded at some point.
“Thank you, sir,” I whispered. I dressed, my hands fumbling with my bra strap and thong.
He’d changed everything. Again. Warm and seducing and ferocious to cool and disconnected in an instant.
Once I was clothed, he stood in the doorway and raised his arm, gesturing for me to follow him. “I’ll give you time to gather your things and then I’ll get you home.”
I stopped mere feet from him. “Is something wrong?” I glanced back at the table. “Did I do something? You seem upset.”
“You were perfect.” He pressed his fingers to my cheek and I fell into his soft embrace. This connection was what I needed. Was what had been missing. “Absolutely perfect, Little One.”
His voice had a tone I wasn’t accustomed to. It did little to settle my nerves. Colder and filled with pain, almost like he regretted what had just happened to us.
“Your clothes,” he said. He left no room for discussion and I took my cue, hurried to his room and gathered my things.
He was waiting in the kitchen when I returned, already wearing his leather coat and had his keys in his hand. He took my overnight bag from me and led me out of his house.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes at the sudden distance he put between us, especially with giving me no explanation for the cause of it.
I wanted to ask him why, but he’d already told me nothing was wrong. Perhaps something else was on his mind. Regardless, I wasn’t brave enough to force the issue.
He held the door open to his Tahoe and belted me in before closing the door and climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Thank you for the weekend, Little One,” he said, pulling out onto the street. “You’re becoming a well-trained sub.”
I reeled from the force of his words as if he’d backhanded me across the cheek. Nothing could have caused more pain to rip through my chest into my soul.
In one short sentence, he’d slammed me with the reminder this was all temporary. At some point, he’d walk away from me.
“Thank you for your time, sir.”
He didn’t speak to me again until he pulled up to the street in front of my building. My fabulous, contemporary building I’d always loved until I’d stepped foot into his warm and well-decorated home and somehow imagined living in it within a matter of moments.
God. How had everything gotten so screwed up so quickly?
“Will I see you this week?” I asked.
He’d already opened his door but closed it and turned to me. “We have one week left in our agreement.”
“I know, sir.”
“Then yes, I’ll see you Friday.”
“Friday?” It was Sunday. We hadn’t spent more than a day apart since we started this training.
Dragging a hand down his face, he sighed. “I’ve got a busy week, Chloe. First home game is on Tuesday and I have to focus. Then it’s Thanksgiving and I’m assuming you’ll be with your family.”
Was that the problem he was having? My family? Regardless, I said, “There’s still Monday and Wednesday, sir.”
“And I make the rules, correct?” He spoke so harshly, snapping at me with an anger I hadn’t seen from him that my head jerked back.
“What’s going on, Simon? You’re acting angry and I don’t understand where this is coming from.”
“Nothing.” His lie was as blatant as the frustration etched on his features. “We will finish your training next week. While we’re apart this week, I want you to think of what kind of Dom you want to find long-term.”
You. I want it to be you. I wanted to beg and plead and throw myself at his mercy, letting him know how very much I truly wanted it to be him, but that would have been foolish. He’d effectively put me in my place.
“No need to help me out.” I opened the door and hopped out and then grabbed my bag from the backseat of the Tahoe before closing the rear passenger door.
“Chloe.” I let Simon see the pain he’d lashed through me with the force of an ill-used cane. He didn’t even flinch. “You really have become the perfect sub.”
I slammed the door to the Tahoe hard enough to rock the large SUV and hurried into the lobby without looking back.
Then, I managed to fight back the tears and the pain and the failure swirling around me, threatening to choke me with its massiveness until I was firmly inside my apartment, and flung myself onto the bed.
* * *
“Wow, this really is a beautiful store, Chloe!”
I turned to the pretty brunette, rushing through the store, weaving around a rack of shift dresses, and grinned.
“Haley.” I dropped the sweater I’d been folding and hurried to her. “What are you doing here?”
“Jensen told me I’d been working too hard and I needed a day off, so he sent me to the spa.”
Jealousy uncurled inside me with a force I wasn’t expecting. I’d never been one to be jealous of other women. Haley fingered her beautiful collar, her sparking engagement ring catching the overhead lights. She gleamed with excitement, love, and deep relaxation.
“That was nice of him. You look great.”
“It was, and I feel grea
t.” She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. “And since the spa is just down the street, I wanted to pop in and say hello. Do you have some time to talk or go grab a coffee?”
It was already six o’clock and we’d be closing in an hour. I should have told her no, not because I couldn’t get away earlier. Tyra was in the back and would stay to close if I asked. Being around Haley meant thinking about Simon. I hadn’t heard from him since he dropped me off Sunday afternoon at my apartment. Every minute I went without contact from him spread the distance between us to unimaginable miles. I could have reached out to him, but as my Dom, he’d made it clear we wouldn’t have contact until Friday. As much as thinking about him hurt, I was certain seeing him again would destroy me. But I was determined to see it through, at the very least to get a good-bye from him even though it would break my heart. I couldn’t walk away yet, though, not without telling him everything he’d become to me. I’d throw all my cards out on the table and let him pick them up and cherish them—cherish me—or throw them to the floor and let me walk away.
I wouldn’t beg and plead, but I owed it to myself to be vulnerable and completely honest with him, regardless of whatever his reaction might be.
“Listen, Haley—”
“Okay, stop.” She waved her hand in the air and glanced around the store. Lowering her voice, she whispered, “Listen, I’m a shit liar, always have been. I didn’t go to the spa. I came to see you. Simon called Jensen last night.”
“So you know he’s ready to give me up.”
“No.” She grinned. “Actually, he’s trying to figure out how in the hell he is going to give you up, and from the shouts I heard through the phone line when Jensen was trying to talk sense into him, it sounds like he’s not all that thrilled about it.”
“But—”
“I know what he said and I know what he told you. I can also pretty much guarantee you that if you repeat any of this conversation he’ll never speak to Jensen again, so I’m asking you not to.”
“Okay.”
“And we’re going to go out tonight and show him exactly what he’d be missing by handing you to another Dom when he wants you so badly for himself.”
“What?” I shook my head. This didn’t make sense. “He has a hockey game tonight.”
“I know.” Her smile stretched from ear-to-ear. “And we’re going.”
I took a step back. This was too much and didn’t feel quite right. Going to his hockey game might not be breaking his rule, but it was skirting it at the very least.
I explained it to Haley and she threw her head back and laughed. The twinkly sound of her sweet voice filled the room and Tyra stepped up next to me.
“What’s going on here?”
“Nothing, Tyra. This is Haley.”
“Hi, nice to meet you, Tyra.” She held her hand out and shook Tyra’s hand. I took the moment to gather myself and settle the emotions now flip-flopping deep inside my stomach.
“Listen, Haley, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“What’s not a good idea?” Tyra asked.
Haley grinned. “Going to see Simon coach his first home game.”
“Why wouldn’t you go see him?”
“It’s complicated, Tyra.”
“Whatever.” She waved her hand dismissively. “If he’s any reason you’ve been moping around here all day, then I say go for it. What do you have to lose?”
“My self-respect?”
Haley threaded her arm through mine and tugged me toward her. “Which you won’t. Trust me.” Turning to Tyra she asked, “I know it’s not my place, but do you mind if I steal her away?”
“Tyra, you don’t have to.”
“Go. We’ll be fine, here, I promise. I’m going to finish stocking everything for Black Friday sales and take off for drinks later with the hubby. Go and enjoy yourself and get yourself some.” She winked. “You look like you need it.”
“That’s the plan,” Haley said. “Do you need anything before we go?”
“My purse.”
“I’ll go get it.” Tyra turned and scurried toward the back as quickly as her four-inch stilettos would carry her.
I wasn’t getting out of this. With Tyra on her side, fighting was pointless.
“Do you think this is a good idea?”
“I think it will make Simon furious.”
“Then, no?”
“Oh, no. It’s a horrible idea and he’ll be pissed but that means you’ll win.” At my confused look, she laughed again, shaking her head. “Because he’ll punish you for not listening to him, and trust me, Chloe. Every girl needs a good punishment every once in a while.”
Simon had spanked me and flogged me but I hadn’t been given a punishment from him yet. The way Haley described it, it sounded delightful.
“Fine. I’ll go, but if this all ends tits-up, you’re buying me all the wine I can drink.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Simon
I gripped my phone tighter and pushed down the overwhelming urge to growl into the phone. So far, talking Bennett into going along with my plan was proving difficult.
“You’re everything Chloe needs in a Dom. At least meet her. If she’s willing, you have my permission to play with her and see if she’s the kind of sub you’d like.”
“I don’t think you understand what you’re suggesting, Simon.”
“I know exactly what I’m suggesting.”
The taste of vomit rose in my throat, but after forty-eight hours of not being able to get the taste or smell of Chloe out of my mouth, my sheets, my house, my bed, or my mind, this was best. From the moment I met Chloe, I knew they would be perfect together. As soon as he saw her tight ass, he wouldn’t be able to resist. Once he made her laugh, he’d be a goner.
“I’m pretty sure you’re fucking up the best thing to happen to you.”
“I’m pretty sure she’ll be the best thing for you.”
Silence filled the line. We had a game in an hour and my focus was shit. I needed to not only get my head ready for the hockey game where we were starting the season playing our largest rival, but I needed to get everything squared away for Friday night.
“I’ll be there, Friday,” Bennett finally said.
“You won’t be sorry.”
“Yeah,” he laughed into the line, cold and not amused. “But I’m sure you will be.”
He wasn’t wrong. Ever since I pulled away from Chloe on Sunday I wanted to call her and make it right. But for once, I wasn’t going to be selfish. I wasn’t going to hurt her further just because I was an asshole who wanted her to myself. There were obstacles stopping us we’d never surpass and her family was the largest. They’d never accept us and eventually, the guilt and strain a relationship with me would cause, would ruin everything. It was for the best that I walked away, handed her to someone I trusted, someone capable of caring for her, even if the very idea made me want to ram my fist through a wall.
“Friday at ten.” I hung up without saying goodbye.
Tossing the phone onto my desk, I dropped my head into my hands and scrubbed forcefully. It took several moments for my breathing to slow down and once I had control of myself, my focus back on the game, I stood from the chair and shoved my arms into my suit coat.
I had a game to win. Kids to coach. A team to inspire and lead. A mind clouded with memories of delicious pussy and a spankable ass had to wait.
The kids were riled up. A mixture of nervous and excited adrenaline filled the air of the locker room amidst the sounds of teenage boys giving each other shit, locker doors slamming closed, and the rustle of everyone getting dressed into their gear.
By the time we took the ice for warm-ups, twenty minutes later, I had them composed and focused. They skate
d across the ice, running drills and slapping the puck into the net with perfection.
We stood on center ice for the national anthem, hockey helmets tucked under their left arms, my right hand over my chest like I’d always been taught. And as the closing tunes echoed in the high school ice arena rivaling any minor-league hockey arena, cool prickles trickled down my neck, like warm breath against my flesh.
I turned immediately, searched out the source of my sudden attention, and found her.
Chloe.
She was nine rows up behind the home team’s bench and her gaze was fixed directly on me.
Damn her, and Haley who was standing next to her. Chloe’s face was soft, mixed with apprehension and the way she knotted her fingers together in front of her told me she was nervous. Haley on the other hand, wore a smile rivaling a beauty pageant contestant being declared the next Miss America. She waved excitedly and I scowled at her, shaking my head. That little minx. Both of them. Haley because I knew it was she who convinced Chloe to come and Chloe for disobeying a very clear expectation I’d set for her.
I wanted to redden both their asses. But unfortunately, I could only do one.
And I would.
As soon as the game was over.
It stretched on forever. My boys played great. They skated across the ice like professionals, watched the penalties and by the time the third period came to a close, the high school crowd filled with parents and students and a few hometown fans were on their feet, stomping on the bleachers, cheering us on toward our first victory.
One minute left and we were up four-to-two. I couldn’t find a single thing to correct in how they played, although it wasn’t a surprise. Most of these kids had skated together since they were old enough to walk. As soon as they took their first steps, hockey diehards strapped miniature skates onto their children’s pudgy feet and took them to the ice. Their skill was off the charts and more than a few of them had signed letters of intent to play in colleges, some determined to be drafted straight into minors after graduation.
I couldn’t have been prouder of them by the time the final buzzer sounded, and the arena erupted into shouts and victory cheers.