Crave Me

by Stacey Lynn

  “I’m so sorry.” Dad was still green, like he wanted to puke, but not nearly as angry as he had been, and Mom was still looking at me with disappointment. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want today to go like this, I swear. I feel horrible.”

  Dad chewed the inside of his cheek before nodding. “Sit down and finish your food, Chloe. We’ll talk later.”

  And wouldn’t that be a conversation to look forward to?

  “I love him,” I muttered, and did what my dad said. “But it doesn’t matter. We already knew we’d never be able to be together because of this, anyway.”

  Had I had any doubts before, this clusterfuck of an argument had shown me the truth in a very real, reality-slapping my face kind of way.

  And when I arrived home, late at night after finishing the meal with my parents and helping Mom clean up before giving the excuse I had to be at work early in the morning, I was more lost than I ever had been before.

  I climbed into my bed, more exhausted than I could ever remember being and barely summoned the energy to reach for my phone as it started vibrating across my nightstand.

  Tomorrow night. My house. 10 p.m.

  Don’t be late

  Simon

  I didn’t respond. I closed out my messages app and rolled over so I didn’t have to see it. For the first time since I’d approached Simon, I understood clearly why he’d been so hesitant to train me in the first place.

  I couldn’t even summon a small amount of excitement at seeing him again.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Simon

  Ten hours until I would see Chloe again. Ten hours until our lives would be irrevocably changed.

  After she left me Tuesday night, I made one decision and while there was fear involved in it, it was the right one.

  The only one.

  It took several phone calls to make the arrangements, but one of the great things about being involved in such an exclusive community like Luminous was you met certain people who could help you with almost anything.

  Which was why there was currently a diamond ring the size of Massachusetts burning a hole in my pocket.

  And why I was about to walk into East River Brewery in downtown Grand Rapids to ask Mark Reynolds for his permission to marry his daughter.

  A lump swelled in my throat, and fuck, nerves assaulted me until my hands dampened.

  When I’d first called him this morning and asked to speak with him insisting it was urgent, he ironically hadn’t seem all that surprised to hear from me. I almost called Chloe to ask her why, but I needed to do this without her knowledge.

  His response had been a surly, “Yeah, I’m sure you need to talk to me.” He’d spit out a time and place that didn’t allow room for argument, not that I would, and hung up before I’d fully prepared myself for a conversation with him.

  I took a step forward and wrapped my hand around the brass door handle, pulling it open.

  The scent of well-crafted beer and delicious food assaulted me, but I paid little attention to the sounds and sights in the packed place. A surprising crowd, mostly men, congregated in the bar area, but I found who I was looking for and made my way to Mark without hesitating.

  It was time to man up, explain my position and gain his approval, all while he believed I’d physically assaulted his eldest daughter.

  “Mr. Reynolds,” I said, gaining his attention from where he was focused on a television screen behind the bar. “How are you?”

  He nodded toward the stool next to him without looking at me. “Take a seat, son.”

  Son. I hadn’t been called son in years. The last time was by him before Cassie and I ended.

  I didn’t want to hope the reason he used the name now was a good sign.

  When a bartender asked me what I wanted, I ordered what Mark was drinking. He didn’t speak to me or look at me until the beer was placed on a coaster bearing the brewery’s logo and walked away.

  He took a drink.

  I took a larger, healthier swallow from mine.

  “You wanted to talk.”

  “I did. I have something I need to talk to you about.” He faced me then, his blue eyes so similar to Chloe’s, showing massive amounts of pain. “Is Chloe okay?” I asked immediately.

  “You know, I think with that one question you just told me everything I needed to know about you.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following, sir.”

  He shook his head and grabbed his beer, this time his gaze fully fixed on mine. He took another drink. “Had an interesting Thanksgiving meal with my girls yesterday. Can’t say I’ve ever seen a family meal dissolve into such a shit storm like that one did.”

  “Mr. Reynolds.” He kept talking like I hadn’t spoken his name. I gave the man the respect he was due and shut my mouth.

  “Surprised to hear from you today though, am even more surprised you don’t seem to know what happened. You and Chloe didn’t talk?”

  She never responded to the text I sent last night. I could send her another one, admonishing her for making me wait for her response, but she needed space. Her decision to see me tonight had to be her choice, her decision, without pressure from me.

  I just hoped like hell she made the one I wanted her to make.

  “I’m not sure I’m following you, Mr. Reynolds.”

  “For the love of God, Simon, you’re an adult. Call me Mark.”

  “Okay, Mark. I’m not sure I get what you’re trying to say.”

  “How about we drop the bullshit, and you explain to me why after you’d hurt one of my daughter’s so much, you’d spend time with another.”

  His lips twisted at the end like it made him sick to his stomach. I needed to know what happened at Thanksgiving. The diamond ring in my pocket burned a hole and for a moment, I debated whether or not to continue. But I had to. If tonight went the way I needed it to, I needed this meeting to be fully honest.

  “I never meant to hurt Cassie. And to this day, I regret it, but unfortunately, what happened between Cassie and I has nothing to do with Chloe. Did she tell you that she came to me? That Chloe found me and approached me?”

  He wiped his hand across his brow and shook his head. “Trust me,” he muttered, “I heard more than enough about your relationship with Chloe last night to ever want to discuss that aspect of it again.”

  Fucking hell. I could only imagine. I had to keep things on track.

  “I love your daughter, Mark.”

  “Which one?”

  I flinched at his angry tone. “I loved Cassie,” I said, dropping my voice. “I could have loved Cassie for a very long time and in an effort not to say too much, there came a time in our relationship when I needed more than she could give me.” He regarded me with the intensity of a man who spent his life putting his on the line for others. His searing expression delved straight to my soul. “I mean you no disrespect, sir, and I won’t get into what it is I do need, but I never intended Cassie harm, and like I explained back then, I certainly didn’t abuse her. But Chloe, she’s different, and besides being compatible in an area you don’t want to know about, I love your daughter with every fiber of my being. I love her intelligence, her independence, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s nervous. I love her smile and her kindness and her determination. I want her to be mine, forever.”

  His eyes widened as I spoke, realization settling on him to the purpose of why I’d called him. He might have thought I came to talk about what happened yesterday, smooth things over for Chloe, but considering I could only imagine what had happened, he hadn’t expected this.

  “I’m asking for permission to marry your daughter, Mark. And I might not need it. Frankly, I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t know it would be important to Chloe. And you’re right, I don’t know what happened a
t dinner, yet. But I do know I want to spend the rest of my life giving Chloe everything she desires and I know what she needs. Your approval would go a long way in giving that to her.”

  He turned from me and gestured to the bartender for another beer. I gave him time, setting my beer on the bar. I only had half left, but it was enough.

  “I always liked you, you know. Thought you were a stand up, good guy for Cassie. I love my daughter, don’t get me wrong, but even before you ended I saw it coming. Like watching a building burn but it’s too hot to get in and you can’t do anything to stop it. She’s always had dreams, dreams and goals and plans larger than anything that could have kept you two together. I don’t think you’re the man she still claims you are, and I gotta be honest, admitting that makes my gut churn. Bugs the shit out of me I can’t fully support one daughter in her belief.” He paused and shook his head. “You’re not the kind of man to turn into the monster she claims, and I know it. Doesn’t mean you sitting at our family table like you used to do will happen anytime soon.”

  Fuck. “Mark—”

  He held a hand up again. Rarely did I submit to another man and it took everything inside of me, despite my desire for Chloe, to keep my mouth shut as he continued.

  “Chloe explained some things last night after Cassie took off. And like I said, I don’t need specifics. But I know she cares about you, too. You want to marry her. I’m not sure it’s my right to stop you. Chloe’s just as stubborn as my wife and Cassie. She knows what she wants, and if she chooses you, I’m asking you to give the time and effort to make it right for the rest of my family. You give me that, son, and I have no problems with you as long as you swear to me right now I’ll never have another girl in tears because of you.”

  Holy shit. Had he just okayed an engagement? The man was giving me whiplash.

  “Never.” At least not the bad kind. “Never, sir. Thank you.”

  He stood, dropped some cash on the bar and clasped me on the shoulder. “Be good to have you around to have you help me talk some sense into Chloe during the next election.”

  I turned to him and grinned. “Not sure Chloe’s the kind of woman to change her opinions regardless of what I say.”

  “Nah. You’re probably right.” He squeezed my shoulder and let go. “Good to see you, son. We’ll talk again soon.”

  He walked away and I turned back to the bar, still stunned how the conversation had unfolded.

  It changed things for tonight, cemented them in others.

  I threw more cash down on the bar and left. I was blocks from Chloe’s Closet and for a moment, I hesitated and turned toward her store.

  Instead of disrupting her on her busiest day, I turned back around and got in my car.

  She would come to me or walk away, but I wouldn’t pressure her. And if she came to me, I wouldn’t let her go again.

  * * *

  “You’re playing with fire, you know this, right?” Lounging on my couch, legs spread wide, Bennett swirled his glass of scotch.

  “I know. Stop reminding me.” I all but growled at him.

  It was almost ten o’clock. I’d sent her another text this afternoon. Like the other from last night, it still went unanswered.

  She’d either choose to come to me or she’d walk away. And even if she did show up, she still had one more choice to make. Either way, I wasn’t letting her go as easily as she might be thinking.

  “If she chooses to play?” Bennett asked, smirking at me. The asshole. It took all of my restraint not to kick him out. The rest was being used to not pick up my phone and demand Chloe tell me exactly where she was.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  His deep and rumbling laugh filled the room at the same time the front of my house was illuminated by headlights pulling into my driveway. Thank Christ. She had come.

  One step down. Two more to go until forever started.

  “Ah.” Bennett sighed happily and turned to me, bringing the scotch to his lips. “I can’t wait to see her in person. I bet she’s lovely.”

  He wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Not in front of me. Not in my house.

  “Control yourself,” I said and set down my scotch.

  My text to Chloe earlier had told her to arrive promptly at ten, and to take a seat in the chair next to the fireplace.

  From her reaction to previous messages I’d sent her, that text alone would have piqued her curiosity. I’d always demanded she be kneeling and naked. I also knew she’d expect to be in the room alone.

  Tonight was a new beginning, though, and everything would be different. Soon, hopefully, my house would be her home and she’d come and go as she pleased, naked only when it met my needs. I wasn’t giving Bennett a glimpse of her silken skin.

  Time stalled as I waited for her to park her car and walk up the front walk. Bennett, sensing my unease at the length of time it took her, thankfully shut his mouth for once. Tension mounted, my shoulders pulled tight until the doorknob turned and she pushed the door open.

  And she was there. My house. My living room. Without pressure from me, because she wanted to be there. Relief flooded my blood, relaxing me.

  She froze as soon as she was inside, her gaze darting between me and Bennett.

  His gaze swept up and down the curves of her body.

  Recognition lit in her eyes. She wouldn’t have forgotten how enamored she’d been by Bennett worshipping Selia. Her cheeks flushed before her gaze flicked to mine. I forced myself to stay in my chair, resist the urge to step in front of Bennett, to block her view of him. My friend was right. This had the potential to blow up in my face, hugely.

  Her lips parted and her skin paled as she dropped her purse on the table just inside the door. “Simon?” she asked, hands twisting together in front of her.

  I arched a brow and remained silent.

  “Sir?”

  I gestured for her to take her seat. Her steps were hesitant. Light pink, suede boots clicked on the wood flooring as she took step after step. Her fingers fidgeted with the matching pink scarf around her neck. God she was beautiful. So sublime in her submission despite her obvious nerves and fear. As she sat, she smoothed down a gray sweater dress that showed off her curves perfectly and tucked a chunk of blonde hair behind her ear before dipping her head. Her palms went to her knees, facing up.

  I hadn’t even demanded it, but she’d still found a way to present herself with utter perfection.

  Yeah. I wasn’t letting her go.

  I allowed time for the tension to build, watched the rise and fall of her generous breasts quicken before I set my glass of scotch on the table to next to me. Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees.

  “You came. I wasn’t sure you would.” She licked her lips, and didn’t respond. “You may talk freely, tonight, Little One.”

  As if I’d caressed her, her shoulders fell back, the tenseness evaporating.

  “She really is beautiful, Simon,” Bennett said. I glared at him to shut up him up. He grinned at me.

  I focused on Chloe. “Look at me, please.”

  She lifted her head and tears were already swimming in her eyes. Damn. I knew exactly what she was thinking and even though I hadn’t said it yet, she knew why Bennett was here. It took everything I had to remain sitting, to not reach for her and brush my thumbs beneath her eyes to catch the tears she was fighting not to let fall.

  “I agreed to train you for one month.” And what a naive idiot I’d been. I should have known letting her go would be impossible. “Tonight, our month is up.”

  “Yes, sir.” Her voice wobbled as she answered.

  “I also agreed to help find you a Dom I trusted who could take over if it was something you agreed to.” I waved my hand toward Bennett. He hadn’t yet moved except to set down his own drink and sling both of his arms along
the back of the couch. I rolled my eyes at his asinine stunt. He sat on my furniture looking like a king of a castle. Beneath his stern expression, amusement danced in his eyes.

  “Hello, sub,” he said.

  She dipped her chin. I understood. Bennett wasn’t only a Dom, he was the best man I’d ever met. He yielded his power like a second skin. I’d seen more than one sub physically affected by his mere presence.

  “Sir.”

  “How are you feeling, Chloe?” I asked, when her breath hitched and her hands curled into fists.

  “Nervous, sir.” Her voice was a mere whisper, laced with pain and fear. She was more than nervous.

  “Chloe.” I called her name softly, gently and waited until she lifted her head so I could see her eyes. “We’ve had a rough week, haven’t we?”

  “You could say that, sir.”

  “Tell me about Thanksgiving dinner.”

  She startled for a moment before tilting her head. “Sir?”

  “Thanksgiving dinner. Your father told me it was a shit storm. I want to hear what happened.”

  “What? You...my dad?” Her adorable eyes widened until they reached the point of popping out of her head.

  I’d tell her about meeting with her dad later. “Chloe, please, we can get to the rest later, but I’d like to know.”

  “Um, well.” She glanced at Bennett before bringing her gaze back to mine. “Bad. Horrible, really.” She pushed back her sleeves and showed me fading bruises on her wrist. She still bore my marks from almost a week ago.

  It shouldn’t have turned me on. My dick didn’t get the message and hardened and pressed against my zipper.

  “Cassie saw these at dinner, but she said someone told her I went to your game Tuesday. The short version is that my relationship with her is most likely permanently ruined and my parents have never been more disappointed in me.”

  The urge to hold her was overwhelming but I forced my ass to stay in my chair. “Is that why you look like you’re going to cry?”

  “No, sir.”