Resisting My Submission

by Jenna Jacob

  Eli cringed.

  “Go,” I ordered under my breath.

  He flashed me a look of apology and turned, then jogged toward his friends. “Fuck off, Henry. She wanted to know what time it is.”

  Without looking back, I climbed into my car, chafed at being called an old lady. The mouthy little shit could have used the words mature woman, but then boys would be boys. With a growl, I peeled out of the parking lot. I knew Eli was mortified by his friend’s insult. I’d have to soothe the boy’s ruffled feathers tomorrow night at the club.

  Once back home, I crawled into bed, container of ice cream on my lap and book in hand. I devoured the tub while I lost myself in a mystery novel until three a.m., when I put the book aside and snuggled in beneath the covers.

  Max’s virile scent lingered in the sheets, on the bedspread…my pillows—he hadn’t even touched my pillow—yet he was there in every breath I took. My brain and body came alive as memories of making love to him assailed me. Images of us at the club, Maurizio’s, dinner tonight, our walk along the beach, and of course, the spine-bending sex we’d shared filled my mind. I couldn’t shut them out. I wanted to scream, but mostly I just wanted the chance to make up for my ugly, bitchy behavior.

  After tossing and turning for hours on end, I threw back the covers and stomped to the guest room. If I was going to get an ounce of sleep, I had to find a bed that held no trace of Max.

  I woke with a start to the sound of someone banging on my front door. With a curse, I pulled the pillow over my head, but the drumming continued.

  “Somebody better be dead,” I grumbled.

  Shoving my wild, disheveled hair from my face, I rushed to the living room, and yanked the door open. Max stood on the porch wearing the same clothes he’d had on the night before and a weak smile. In his hand was a tray with two cups of coffee.

  “I brought you a cup—”

  “Do you know what time it is?” I scolded.

  “Yes. Early. Lose the attitude. We need to talk”—his voice suddenly softened—“and I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “I’m…okay. But do we need to talk now? Can’t it wait until—”

  “What I have to say can’t wait, Sam.”

  I eyed the coffee, then relented and invited him in. I plucked a cup from the tray as Max walked toward the living room. I might have still been half-asleep, but like a bloodhound, one sniff of coffee—already brewed and ready to sip—and I was hot on the scent. I shut the door and turned toward him. Without the blinding sun at his back, I noticed the pale, dark circles under his eyes. He looked like hell.

  Because of you!

  Guilt swept through me. I stroked his face. “You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?”

  “No.” Max shook his head before he dropped his gaze to my stomach. He splayed his hand out over my belly and looked up at me. “No matter what happens, Sam, I’m in this for the duration.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Emotion clogged my throat. Tears stung the backs of my eyes as he curled an arm around my waist and dragged me to his chest.

  “I don’t care what we have to do…whether it takes contracts, arrangements, promises or vows, we’ll work things out between us. Understood?”

  “We don’t even know if we have a problem. Let’s wait and see—”

  “I’m not only talking about the possibility of a baby. I’m talking about us…you and me.”

  Did he mean a future?

  I groaned as my shoulders slumped. “I don’t know if there’ll ever be a you and me. I still haven’t figured out if I’m a Domme or a sub. I don’t have a clue in hell where I belong.”

  A gentle smile touched his lips as he brushed the pad of his thumb to catch the tear spilling down my cheek. “You belong with me, Sam. Plain and simple, you belong with me.”

  A tiny sob slid from my throat. Max took the coffee from my fingers and placed both cups on the end table. Then he lifted me into his arms, like he’d done the night he broke down my door, and carried me down the hall. When he noticed the covers strewn across the bed in the guest room, he sent me a startled stare.

  “Has someone else been here?”

  I shook my head. In a quivering voice, I confessed that I couldn’t sleep with his scent surrounding me. A look of relief swept over his face as he pressed his lips to mine, a soft, tender caress filled with understanding and promise.

  He laid me on the mattress before gently tugging off the clothes I’d worn to the store and had fallen asleep in. Stepping back, he undressed. There was nothing provocative or sexy in his movements, but I was mesmerized all the same. An easy comfort had formed between us. It was as if we’d known each other a lifetime instead of only a few short days.

  Without a word, Max crawled in beside me. He pulled the blankets over us and wrapped me in his arms. Placing a tender kiss to my lips, he rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. Nestled in his warm, protective arms, I laid my head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart as I slid into the inky darkness.

  When I woke, he was gone. I glanced at the clock. It was nearly one in the afternoon. With a languid stretch, I turned and buried my face in Max’s pillow. As I breathed in his familiar scent, tingles ignited beneath my flesh. I couldn’t help but smile.

  We hadn’t come to any conclusions in regard to the litany of issues hanging over our heads—hell, we’d barely said a word at all—but a flicker of hope and security had awakened inside me. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel completely alone.

  After tending to business in the bathroom, I tugged on my robe and opened the bedroom door. The scent of bacon and an undertone of coffee hit my senses before I’d even stepped into the hallway. My tiny smile turned into a full-blown grin as I hurried into the kitchen. There, beside the stove, stood Max, flipping a skillet of hash browns and sipping coffee. The hopeless romantic in me imagined how wonderful it would be to wake every morning and find Max in my life. Shaking off the foolish thought, I kissed him on the cheek and went straight to the coffeemaker.

  He smiled as he watched me fill a mug to the brim.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked as I took a sip of the steaming hot liquid.

  “Like a rock,” I purred.

  “Me, too. I hope you don’t mind me commandeering your kitchen.”

  “Commandeer all you want. I haven’t had anyone cook me a meal outside restaurants and fast food in forever.

  “Then it’s high time you did. Sit back and relax. I’ll have everything ready in a couple of minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  It was blatantly obvious we were trying to put our best feet forward while ignoring the hulking elephant in the room.

  You belong with me. His words echoed in my head, yet I couldn’t help but wonder if Max simply might have his in the clouds. Aside from whether I was pregnant or not—which was another elephant all its own—the pressure to decide my role in the lifestyle pressed in around me.

  I stared out the window contemplating the conundrum while I sipped my coffee. Soon my mind was trapped in a flowing circle, like the infinity symbol. The most practical solution would be to embrace both parts of me and become a switch: Top submissives and surrender to Max. Genesis had several switches who gracefully reveled in having one foot in both worlds, but the option didn’t appeal to me. I was an all-or-nothing kind of creature.

  “Talk to me, Sam. I need to hear what you’re thinking.”

  Max set plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and golden-brown potatoes on the table before easing into the chair beside me. I needed to stop trying to chart my path alone. Max had proven, more times than I could count, that he wouldn’t use my weaknesses against me. Still, my stomach knotted as I loaded up my plate and began telling him about the disturbing dream I’d had the other night.

  “So, are you more afraid of letting the submissives in the club down or being humiliated by the idiots who think because you have a vagina, you can’t command?” />
  “A little of both, but that’s not the real—”

  “We’ll discuss Desmond in a minute. Right now, I want you to examine the biggest concerns regarding the club.”

  “They’re equally damaging to my image.” I smirked. “I’ve worked hard to earn the reputation I have.”

  Max nodded as he bit into a strip of bacon. “But it’s that image that keeps hanging you up in here.” He tapped his finger to my head. “Does it really matter if you’re a Domme or a sub? I mean, to anyone but you?”

  “Of course it does. The free subs at the club rely on me to work them.”

  “There are plenty of other Doms who do that. The responsibility doesn’t rest solely on your shoulders.”

  “No, but…I-I don’t want to confuse them, either.”

  “And we’re right back to the issue of image again, Sam. Declaring yourself a Dom or a sub only defines what’s in here.” He reached out and placed his palm on my heart. “I know in order for you to remain in the lifestyle, you wrapped yourself in a protective layer. You’ve adjusted and adapted, but you’ve paid a price for it, as well. You abandoned the submissive within who needs to be nurtured, treasured, and fulfilled.”

  Chewing on his words and my breakfast, I pondered his statement before setting my fork down. “But I’m not sure how abandoned she really is. I mean…I haven’t let Samantha out, except in that dream…and you know how awful it ended.”

  “Yes, but it was only a dream. Question is…are you willing to try?”

  “Try to let her out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No.” My response was fast and adamant.

  “Why not?”

  “Desmond,” I softly whispered.

  “Ah, yes.” Max paused and set his mug down, drawing his thumb around the rim. “You’re not going to like my next question.”

  “Then don’t ask it.”

  He grinned. “Don’t start slapping up your walls, Sam. We’re finally getting somewhere.”

  God, it irked me when he busted me like that.

  “Desmond was a perfect Master for you in every way, correct?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, suddenly losing my appetite.

  “When you handed him your heart and all the power you possessed, he completed you.”

  I nodded, blinking back tears.

  “But don’t you see, little one? You completed him in every way, as well.” Max’s voice had dropped to barely a whisper. “You met one another’s needs, like it’s supposed to be. Do you think after all the years he immersed you in such love and devotion that he’d want you to deny yourself that fulfillment simply because he wasn’t able to provide it to you anymore?”

  I’d asked myself that question a million times as I struggled to fit into my Domme skin, but when Max bid the same question, a sword of betrayal slashed my flesh.

  Tears slid down my cheeks as I lowered my head. He shoved back from the table and, in one fluid movement, plucked me out of my chair and settled me onto his lap. He tucked me against his chest and simply held me.

  He was right. I’d given up Dark Desire to Lady Ivory when I realized I could no longer fulfill his needs. I found a sense of peace, happiness even, when he started to thrive under her care.

  Desmond would be destroyed if he knew I’d divided myself into pieces…shoved Samantha away and molded myself into Sammie to take her place. Sure, he’d understand that I’d cut myself up like diamonds in order to survive, but he’d still be angry that I’d sacrificed fulfillment—even at the hands of another Dom—because I was too weak to let go of his ghost…let go of him.

  Still, that realization wasn’t enough to force me to draw a definitive line in the sand.

  “I’m not mentally ready to kneel again, Max.”

  “How many years has it been since you did?”

  “Sixteen,” I mumbled.

  “How many?”

  “Sixteen,” I repeated louder.

  “How many more are you going to spend denying yourself?”

  “I don’t know. As many as it takes.” I wiped my eyes and lifted my chin.

  “All right. We’ll find out together. Baby steps.”

  “I’m not sure I want—”

  Max cut me off with a kiss. “The only way you’ll find the answer is through your heart. But first you have to want to move forward. Do you?”

  “I think so.”

  “I get that you’re scared for a multitude of reasons, but if the desire is truly there, you only have two things left to do. Give yourself permission to surrender and reach out and take my hand.”

  Putting that permission into motion was going to be the tricky part. I fully thought I’d said good-bye to Desmond when I shoved the box of sorrow back on the shelf, but that was a cop-out. I’d never let him go. He’d always been in my heart and in my memories. I wasn’t sure I possessed the willpower to fully close off the past.

  Baby steps, Max had assured. I’d already started taking them. While it certainly hadn’t been one giant leap for mankind, I had lowered my walls and let him in. Ironically, doing it felt right. Maybe it was time to keep taking those tiny steps to see where they led.

  “I know.” I snuggled back against him and closed my eyes.

  “When you’re ready to start, tell me. I’ll help you.”

  I sat up and shot him a curious stare. “Help? How?”

  “By introducing you to Samantha again.”

  “No way. I’m not going to open up that can of worms at the club in front of God and everyone.”

  “I’m not talking about doing anything at the club, Sam. I’m talking about doing it here…in the safety and security of your own home.”

  “I’m not sure about this.” A tremor of fear quaked through me.

  “Not today, and not until you’re ready. When you are, I promise I’ll be beside you, ready and waiting to catch you if you fall.”

  “You mean when I fall.” I rolled my eyes.

  “No. If. Don’t start psyching yourself out before you’ve even stepped up to the plate. You’re stronger than that, and we both know it.”

  I was strong and in control, or thought I was, until Max showed up and blew my perceptions into a storm that pelted my Zen. He’d rained down on me, and I was now caught in a landslide called Max. I knew I had to ride this slurry of emotions to the bottom before I could discover what parts lay in ruin at my feet. Surprisingly, that didn’t scare me. It was discovering what parts survived that terrified.

  I leaned up and kissed him, a wordless thank you for his understanding and patience.

  A good Dom is always patient and understanding, pet. Desmond’s voice softly echoed from far off inside my head. I closed my eyes and burrowed against Max once more.

  We spent the next hour and a half in bed, burning off breakfast, until I had to get ready for work. When I stepped inside the shower, Max followed with a wicked smile, a hard-on from hell, and a condom packet between his fingers.

  “I thought men your age had to recoup after sex,” I laughed.

  “Men my age?” He blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean? How old do you think I am?”

  I stroked his erection and grinned. “Eighteen by the feel of things.”

  “You make me feel like I’m eighteen again.” His voice was a low rumble as he latched onto my mouth with a hungry kiss.

  I knew I’d be late for work, but at that exact moment, I didn’t give a shit.

  He pressed me up against the cool tile walls, nibbling my neck and telling me all the lewd and erotic things he wanted to do to me. After rolling the condom over his cock, he thrust inside me, plowing deep into my tender core. I gasped and moaned and rocked my hips, working to relax against his delicious invasion. He cupped one breast, pinching and plucking my nipples, while his other hand busily strummed my clit with the perfect amount of pressure and design. Every ruthless drag and thrust set my enflamed tissues ablaze. I was dizzy and panting as Max soared me higher and higher into oblivion.

&nbs
p; When my whimpers and moans morphed into keening cries of need, he sank his teeth into the lobe of my ear. His ragged and shallow breaths drowned out the sounds of water cascading down our naked flesh.

  “I’m ready to split this condom apart. Come hard with me, Sam. Let me feel your tight cunt suck the come from my balls again.”

  A scalding wave slammed through me. My muscles strained and gripped his driving cock. Blood roared in my ears. Lights exploded behind my eyes and I screamed his name. With a feral growl, Max briefly stilled before manically pounding into me. He bellowed out “Sam” as he followed me over.

  Clinging to one another, we struggling to catch our breath. I closed my eyes and basked in the hum of pulsating pleasure. Several minutes passed as we floated back to earth, then Max lathered me with soap and tenderly washed every inch of my flesh. With thick, skilled fingers, he massaged shampoo through my hair, adding to my already boneless verve. I wanted to crawl back in bed with him and take a power nap, then spend all night lost in lust.

  But duty called. I had to leave our carnal paradise and go out to join the real world. Clad in only his jeans, Max watched from the doorway of the bathroom as I readied for work. I dried and curled my hair, then brushed a bit of mascara over my lashes before adding a hint of blush to my cheeks.

  “You don’t need any of that. You’re gorgeous just the way you are,” he murmured. Pushing off the doorjamb, he brushed the curls off the back of my neck and pressed a soft kiss there.

  “You’re just trying to sweet-talk me into going back to bed with you,” I said in a sultry laugh.

  “Actually, I’m not. I need a few hours to let the skin grow back. But tonight, after the club closes…” He waggled his brows at me and grinned.

  “You’re an animal,” I jokingly replied. “I love that about you.”

  His stare intensified. “What else do you love about me?”

  Love? Oh, hell…I’d picked the wrong word. It was far too soon to make any such declaration. Though I was deeply attracted to the man, love—if ever—was far off on some distant horizon.

  “I love what you did to me in the shower, but I’m not loving the fact that I have to leave for work.”