Amy Valenti - Not Your Damn Submissive (Denial #1)

by Amy Valenti

  “Hey.”

  She blinked up at me. “Huh? Oh, sorry. I kind of went somewhere else for a while.”

  “Anything you want to share?”

  “No. Callum…” Her use of my given name told me all I needed to know, but I waited for her to say it. “Can I have tonight to myself? I need to process everything that’s happened since we met, and it’s difficult when I’m right in the middle of it, you know?”

  “Okay.” It was difficult to make myself say the word. I didn’t want to let her go, or return to my not-quite-as-swanky-as-she-imagined hotel room to spend the night without her. I was surprised by the visceral strength of my reaction, given the amount of time we’d known each other, but I had to respect her wishes. No matter how much I wanted to overrule her.

  “Thank you.” She hesitated, then leaned over to kiss me goodnight. It took all of my strength not to drag her into my lap and possess her lips until she was begging me to stay the night, but somehow I managed to keep my hands in check while she brushed her lips over mine.

  “Sleep well,” she said with a slight, sad smile, and opened the car door.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  I waited until she’d vanished inside her apartment building to start the car’s engine again. She didn’t look back.

  Chapter Ten

  Kat

  It was easier to breathe out of Callum’s presence. It wasn’t that he intimidated me—except for when he put his mind to it, as a Dom. I was over the fangirl crush I’d had on him before I knew him. Now I had a much more serious affliction to deal with. I was falling for him, and so was my submissive side.

  He was so much different from the way I’d expected him to be. More attentive, more modest, more real. And with him acting like a real person came the added bonus of him seeming more attainable.

  What had I been thinking? He wasn’t attainable, not in terms of more than a fling. He wasn’t mine and despite what he’d said in the car, I wasn’t his.

  The problem was, I wanted to be his. And up until he’d said it, that throwaway possessive Dom line that he must give to all his temporary submissives, I hadn’t realised how much I ached to belong to him.

  Being his assistant was rewarding on much more than a professional level. His approval meant so much to me, and that was dangerous. Even giving him head without getting anything in return had made me feel appreciated and wanted, and how ridiculous was that? Oh, sure, he’d made it up to me later in bed in the trailer—and how!—but up until that point, for all I’d known, he’d just used me for a blow job in the middle of the working day.

  And I’d loved it.

  Now he’d be heading off to audition for one of next year’s blockbuster movies. Hollywood was a long way away, and there was nothing for him in NYC. Nothing except for me, that was, but in the grand scheme of his life, what was I? We’d had sex a few times. He’d hurt me a little. But it wasn’t like he’d proposed or anything.

  I was a confused mess. After what had happened ten years ago, I’d sworn to myself that I’d never let myself want these things again. I’d even done a pretty good job of switching off my brain for a while, so I could enjoy a few normal, casual relationships with normal, boring sex. But along came Callum Connors, and in just a few short days he’d taught me that my submissive instincts were nothing to be ashamed of. They were something to be enjoyed, something he savoured.

  But he wasn’t going to be savouring them for much longer, whether he got this part or not. I had to stop thinking of us as a couple. He wasn’t going to be around for that long, that much was clear, and he was on his way to the top. Already, gossip and TV magazines were starting to namecheck him in articles, and I hadn’t seen an actor as good as Callum filming up here since Lucy Yi had guest-starred on No Time to Die. I was willing to bet there were a million closet-submissive starlets in Hollywood just dying for the chance to kneel at his feet.

  Mmm, kneeling at his feet…

  Focus! I knew how the movie business worked. Now Callum had blipped on the radar of one of the most renowned filmmakers in Hollywood, other people would take a closer look at him to figure out why. He’d be the most sought after new talent in LA…and I’d be the same old set decorator’s assistant I’d always been.

  Sighing, I went into the kitchen and stared into the cupboard. I hadn’t eaten since the hurried lunch we’d grabbed between scenes at about two that afternoon. Now it was after ten and my stomach was trying to digest itself, yet when I considered eating, I felt sick and anxious.

  Deciding to nibble on some toast and see if my hunger grew, I threw some bread into the toaster and paced the room while I waited for it to pop up again.

  If only Callum didn’t make me feel so good. Not just sexually, although he’d surpassed all my expectations there. He made me feel as though I mattered. Like he cared. Like I was the centre of his world, especially when I was upset. But he also knew when to back off, which surprised me even more. I’d been sure he’d protest when I’d asked him for space, but he hadn’t, though the disappointment in his face had wrenched my heart.

  I was getting nowhere fast with my reality check. No matter how much I tried to convince myself this whole thing was bad news, I just came back to the way he made me feel. I’d confessed my stupid desire to trash a house to him, for God’s sake. Why would he ever want to hear about that? But he treated me like a lover when we weren’t around people who thought I was just his assistant. Like I was his girlfriend.

  I angrily buttered my newly toasted bread as my memory jumped back to earlier. It wasn’t as though I was going to be thought of as ‘just an assistant’ for long, with the way he was making me blush every five seconds on set, provoking me with images of vibrators and God knew what else. I’d been fuming when I’d gone to his trailer earlier. But when he’d woken me up by giving me the most amazing, decadent orgasm ever, I’d forgotten all about it and just enjoyed being in his presence—as though he wasn’t messing up my professional reputation and making himself look like a stud at the same time.

  “Argh!” I said to the empty air, and tore into one of the toast slices with my teeth. Stupid Doms. Stupid actors. Stupid heart.

  The combination of anger and toast helped to stoke my appetite, and I ended up throwing together a simple but filling meal with almost all of the necessary food groups in it, turning up the radio to stop my brain from spinning in circles over the same old territory it had just traversed. As I finished eating, scooping the last sliver of sauce up with the last piece of pasta, a new thought flashed through my brain: what was Callum eating tonight? Something from room service, or one of the takeout places near his hotel? Maybe he had friends in the area he could go out to eat with. Maybe even special friends.

  I groaned aloud. First you’re worried because he called you his girl, and now you’re jealous because he could be with someone else? God, I hate love.

  Uh-oh. There was the L word. And even as I tried to mentally take it back, I knew it was true.

  My life was officially fucked up, and the only way to unfuck it was to stop this stuff right now, because hoping for a long-term thing with an actor bound for superstardom was deluded at best.

  I picked up my phone and sent a text to Callum. I need to talk to you. Are you free for me to call?

  It took him over ten minutes to reply. Ten minutes of me staring at the phone, fidgeting, willing myself to stop staring at the goddamn phone and get on with my evening.

  Finally, it rang and I snatched it off the sofa cushion, where it had been sitting like an awkward guest. “Hello?”

  “Hey, little miss. You okay?”

  My chest ached at the sound of his voice, his nickname for me. “Yeah. Sorry, did I disturb anything important?”

  “If you can call a shower important. What’s up?”

  I closed my eyes and tried not to imagine what he must look like right now, bare-chested with wet hair. It failed spectacularly, and I crossed my legs to try to stave off the sexual tingle between my th
ighs. That…also failed spectacularly.

  “Seriously, Kat, you’re worrying me. Say something.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, I just got thinking too hard. Everything keeps spinning around in my head and whichever way I turn it, it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Talk to me. Maybe I can help. What’s not making sense?” His concern radiated through the cell connection, warming me. Then abruptly, my stomach churned. He was going to hate what I had to say.

  “You. Me. This whole thing. There’s no point, Callum. You know there’s no point in taking this further.” Somehow, I managed to get the words out without my voice breaking.

  He was guarded now, like he’d put up a shield between us. I hated knowing I was the reason for that, and tears leaked from my eyes as I listened. “I don’t know that. You don’t know that. But obviously you have enough concerns to think you do.”

  It was useless. I was crying whether I liked it or not, and there was no way he couldn’t hear it. “Just go back to LA, Callum, okay? Just tell Darren you’re done and go get on with your life. Please. Before you drive me crazy.”

  “You can’t tell me that’s what you want, little miss. I can hear you crying. Let me come to you.”

  “No!” I said sharply. If he came over, that was it. He’d hold me or kiss me or ask me to kneel, and I’d be done for, committed to this horrible train wreck of a relationship until it ripped my heart out.

  There was a long silence on his end, and I covered the tiny microphone on the side of my cell phone with my thumb so that he wouldn’t hear the sobs I was trying to hold back. Finally, he said, “I can’t accept this. Earlier you were so happy. What did I say to make you afraid of us now?”

  “Don’t, please. Just let me go.” I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head as though it would make him go away.

  “If that’s what you really want, I will. I’m not like whoever hurt you, Kat, whether you want to believe that or not.”

  I opened my mouth to protest that this wasn’t about that, but he continued forcefully, “But I need to look into your eyes and see that you mean it, because right now I think you’re scared. Of what we have; of what we could have. Of what we could be to each other. So you either agree to tell me to my face, tonight, or I will see you naked on your knees in my trailer at five a.m. tomorrow, ready to take your punishment. Pick one.”

  “You can’t—”

  “I damn well can,” he interrupted harshly. “Until I can look into your face and see that you really do want me gone, you’re my submissive, mine to command. If you really want to run from that, I can’t stop you. Maybe you’ll be running from submission forever. But I’m not letting you go without trying my hardest to show you what you’d be giving up, Little Miss Badass. I’m not giving up on you as long as there’s the smallest chance you haven’t given up on yourself.”

  I scrubbed at my eyes with the back of my hand, trying to get myself under control. “Fine. I’ll come to your hotel room. But you have to promise to stay on the other side of the room and not touch me. Do you promise?”

  He muttered something under his breath, then said, “Yeah. If that’s what it takes, I promise.”

  At least that was something. If he kept his distance, maybe I could stop myself from melting like ice cream in a sauna. I was already shaking, my resolve frayed around the edges. “Thank you.”

  He gave me his room number and told me to go straight up when I got there. I hit the disconnect button without saying goodbye and threw the phone aside. Resting my head on my knees, I reached for my composure. I wasn’t going to be able to drive downtown without it.

  Giving up on myself? Was that really what he thought I was doing by not wanting to be with him?

  Yeah, like you really don’t want to be with him. I did. I really did. And I knew in my heart he’d never hurt me the way I’d been hurt ten years ago. But that didn’t mean staying with Callum was a sensible thing to do. Better for both of us if we cut and ran from this thing now, before we got too invested and things went really wrong.

  Maybe I was running. I didn’t want to open up in the way he’d made it clear he expected. If I told him about all the horrible shit that he had done to me, I might lose myself in it again. It had taken so long for me to drag myself back up out of the darkness, find the strength to go on with my life despite the awful memories that lived inside me. I didn’t want to lose the progress I’d made, and it was selfish of Callum to expect…

  “Damn it,” I mumbled, grabbing the shoes I’d kicked off earlier and wriggling my toes into them.

  What he’d said to me a couple of days ago came back to me now: D/s is a two-way street. I need to know your triggers so I can avoid them. Your responsibility is to tell me what I need to know, so I can keep your mind and body safe during play.

  That word again. Safe, safe, safe.

  You’re scared of what we could mean to each other.

  Damn it. He was so right. I was running and I was scared. And I had to face that.

  I headed for the door without bothering to check my makeup, which I already knew was wrecked. Now it was me who needed to see Callum, to look in his eyes and try to work out if he was committed to me for the long haul. I had to make my decision based on trust. If he was really serious about us, I didn’t think I could walk away.

  * * * *

  Callum

  I paced my hotel suite restlessly, picked up things from the dresser and side tables, put them down again, continued pacing. How long did it take to drive from her place over here? Surely not this long.

  I had to calm down before Kat got here, because if I opened the door in this state I was going to wrap my arms around her and not let her go until she changed her mind. I’d promised her I wouldn’t touch her or crowd her, but it would seriously test my self-control.

  Growling wordless frustration, I dropped down onto the bed and checked my phone in case I’d missed a message she’d left for me. Nothing.

  How was I going to convince her to stay? She was what some liked to call ‘damaged goods’, sure, and I didn’t know how extensive that damage was because she wouldn’t let me in. If her abusive ex-Dom had demanded that she stay with him and refused to let her leave, all I would do by emulating him was scare her away for good.

  With every protective instinct within me, I wanted to soothe her confusion and hurt, reassure her that I would never do anything to betray her trust or put her in danger. If she walked away now, I wasn’t sure I could take it. I’d never been this strongly attached to a submissive before, and might never feel this way again.

  Kat was an enigma and sometimes a powder keg, but if I needed to stand within her blast radius to be with her, then so be it. Even if it meant turning down the opportunity of a lifetime to stay with her.

  A knock interrupted my spiralling thoughts and I jumped up immediately, eager to lay eyes on her even if I couldn’t hold her.

  “Hey, Cal. Got the stuff you wanted.”

  I’d completely forgotten that I’d asked Spencer to bring over some toys and equipment earlier, before I’d taken a shower. I stared at him for a second in complete incomprehension, then stepped back to let him in. “God, I’m sorry. I know I said we could hang out here tonight, but would you mind a rain check? My sub’s freaking out and wants to leave me, and I managed to convince her to come over here. She’ll be here any minute.”

  Spencer clapped me on the shoulder and handed over the couple of bags he’d been carrying. I distractedly set them by the side of the bed, thanking him and promising to go through everything and call him later.

  “Hope you get everything sorted out with your sub. Seems like you’re really in deep with this one, huh?”

  “I think I love her.” It was something that I’d been trying to dismiss for days, but the confession fell from my lips now, sounding hollow and borderline despairing.

  Spencer winced. “Oh, God. If this doesn’t go the way you hope, give me a call, okay? I’ll bring some whiskey over
.” It was a not-so-subtle reference to the way we’d dealt with his submissive crisis a couple of years ago, and I appreciated the offer, though I hoped like hell I didn’t have to take him up on it.

  “Thanks. See you later.”

  Spencer left, and I closed the door behind him with a deep sigh, glad Kat hadn’t arrived while I’d had company but wishing she were here. Checking my cell phone again yielded no new information as to where she was, and I resumed pacing just to have some way to funnel my energy.

  * * * *

  Kat

  I rested my head on the steering wheel for a second and closed my eyes. This was it. If Callum could convince me that he really did want me around for the long haul, I was willing to confess all my darkest secrets and let him in. I was more nervous than a virgin on prom night. The amount of power I’d be giving him over me would be daunting for him, probably overwhelming for me. I had no illusions that telling him the truth would be easy. But if I wanted him, I had to risk something to show him I was as committed to the relationship as he was. It wasn’t fair for me to keep him blind or make him play guessing games anymore.

  Let’s do this.

  I got out of the car and walked up to the hotel, moving quickly. Following Callum’s directions, I took the elevator straight to the eighth floor and walked down the plush carpeted hallway, seeking room 807.

  Standing in front of it, I chewed my fingernail for a moment. Maybe I should have redone my makeup, made myself look less like I’d been sobbing my eyes out, but there was no time to chicken out now. He was probably already wondering why I was so late.

  I knocked tentatively, and as if he’d been waiting by the door it opened immediately. “Kat. Come in.”

  Callum looked stressed, his veneer of calm obviously thin. Unless he was acting, I’d really dealt him a blow he hadn’t been expecting when I’d called.

  He stepped back as I entered, withdrawing to the other side of the room, as I’d requested. I shut the door, a pang of guilt making my stomach contract. “I’m sorry I’m…”