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Beware Falling Ice

Page 4

by Tymber Dalton


  Then in college, she’d been studying and working, and then…

  Florida.

  Once here, she’d had a chance to breathe, to try to get to know herself.

  After a string of irritatingly predictable relationship failures, she took a step back and re-evaluated where she wanted to be in life.

  That’s when she stumbled across the Suncoast Society.

  From that point on, she knew what and who she wanted to be. It was just a matter of finding the right partner and not settling.

  And getting over her fear of committing to the wrong person, but that was secondary.

  Because so far, she’d managed to not-commit her way into staying single, even though it wasn’t exactly the worst problem to have as a woman.

  Standing in the shower, she realized something.

  I hope I didn’t just fuck up my relationship with Andrew.

  Seeing the crazy nuts that her family tree sprouted from might send him running in the opposite direction.

  Then again, if it did, it meant he really wasn’t worth her time or effort anyway.

  It would also mean that she’d horribly misjudged Andrew all this time, and that her person picker was still FUBARed.

  Of course, better to find that out now, rather than after she’d done something stupid like thrown herself at him and slept with him.

  At least she wouldn’t try to set his car on fire.

  Then again, compared to what he’s been through, I might be his ideal woman.

  * * * *

  Andrew crawled out of bed about a quarter ’til nine Monday morning to the smell of his coffeepot finishing its brew cycle.

  After pouring himself a mug, he took it and his phone into the bathroom, where he sat for his morning constitutional as he perused his e-mail. They had a ten o’clock conference call meeting on Monday mornings. It looked like nothing had borked over the weekend, at least. He’d received nothing but the normal status reports and updates he expected.

  That’s a relief.

  Then he spotted the itinerary for the trip with Rachel in his personal e-mail.

  Oh, yeah.

  Before he finished, he fired off a quick e-mail to his supervisor that he’d be out of town that particular weekend, taking off Friday and Monday. He knew it wouldn’t be a problem, because he rarely took days off despite being bugged to do so to use up some of his accumulated vacation and personal time.

  The rest of Andrew’s morning went as Monday mornings usually did, the meeting, catching up on e-mails, checking code people were turning in for their projects, and going through project status reports. He didn’t have time to think about his impending trip.

  Or Rachel.

  When he finally took time for lunch and to grab his shower, he had time to think about her.

  He really liked her. He had from the moment they’d first met, but he’d sworn after the disaster that was Kandy there was no way in hell he would chase someone for a relationship. He’d take things slowly, cautiously, and make sure a woman wasn’t batcrap bonkers before even thinking about pursuing a relationship outside of the dungeon, other than as just friends.

  And, so far, they’d successfully done the “just friends” thing.

  Friends with spanking bennies, but nothing sexual. Not even orgasm play. Not that he didn’t want to do orgasm play with her, and she’d even made a couple of comments about it lately, but they hadn’t crossed that bridge yet. It had been a hard limit for her at first, and she’d have to be the one to broach that subject if she wanted to change it.

  It was a good problem to have, at least.

  Better than worrying about her setting my shit on fire.

  This would be a good opportunity for them to spend time out of their element, away from their comfort zones. He could meet her brother, learn more about her, get a chance to relax and see what happened. They’d have several hours on a plane to talk going up and coming back, in addition to a whole weekend together.

  He only hoped that, after the weekend ended, they would still be friends and he didn’t do anything to fuck up what they already had.

  Mainly because he knew Tilly was right. If he kept dragging his feet, he risked Rachel getting away simply because he was still gun-shy over what he went through with Kandy.

  When he thought about that possibility, he realized it hit him deep in his gut, in a bad way. Almost as bad as a ball-tap.

  He didn’t want to lose Rachel. There had to be a happy, healthy medium between being in hot pursuit of her and opening the door to inviting discussions with her about possibly doing more.

  Maybe it’s about fucking time I nut up and try to win her over.

  * * * *

  After arriving at work, Rachel’s Monday morning wasn’t any more crazy than normal, fortunately. While the utility provided critical services, her department wasn’t part of that.

  At one point late that morning, she crossed paths with John Gilomen in the hall and exchanged smiles and nods.

  Last time she’d seen him outside of work, it’d been at Venture, the BDSM club. He’d been on his hands and knees, cuffed and collared, while his wife, Abbey, topped him.

  Then they’d switched and he’d topped Abbey.

  Wasn’t Rachel’s thing, but the two of them had been together for a couple of years now and looked deliriously happy together.

  Rachel and John also had a mutual agreement to never even hint about their extracurricular kinky activities while at work. Not even if they were in the parking lot. They didn’t discuss work while at kinky events, either.

  She’d actually freaked out the first time she’d spotted John at the club, but he’d recognized her and walked over to talk with her.

  Fortunately, before either one of them had changed out of street clothes.

  He’d assured her that what they did in their private time was just that—private.

  It surprised her that she hadn’t run into more real-life acquaintances while in the kinky community, but it wasn’t like she was going to wish that to happen, either. It wasn’t her family she was worried about, and most of the friends she currently had were people she’d met within the lifestyle, so again, a nonissue. She was more concerned about work, even though she didn’t have a morality clause.

  Late that afternoon, she received a text from Andrew.

  I panicked a little when I saw it’s 40 degrees in Sioux Falls today until I saw it’ll be in the 70s next week.

  Unable to hold back her laugh, she replied.

  It’s sort of the reverse of FL weather. Wait a little bit and it’ll change.

  He replied.

  Fair warning. It’s cold when we go, I’m spanking you. :)

  Another laugh escaped her.

  Promise? ;)

  She didn’t even have time to put her phone down.

  Wait. That was supposed to be a threat. I WON’T spank you if it’s cold.

  Nope. Too late. Challenge accepted. I win either way.

  Dammit.

  That was one of the things she loved about Andrew. He didn’t take himself or what they did so seriously that they didn’t have fun.

  He made her laugh. A lot. Whether it was during a scene or during dinner together.

  Maybe it was time she quit being scared of moving forward and talked to him.

  If their friendship survived their weekend together, she vowed that was exactly what she’d do. She wouldn’t have a future if she let her past continually dictate the terms under which she lived her life.

  That had kind of been the whole point of getting the hell out of South Dakota in the first place.

  * * * *

  Rachel stopped on the way home for groceries. As she put them away, she had a depressing thought.

  I’m really stuck in a rut.

  She’d grown so comfortable in her routine that she’d felt absolutely zero desire to do anything about it.

  Is this where I want to be twenty years from now?

  It wasn’t that she couldn�
��t be alone, because, duh, she was.

  Wasn’t exactly what she wanted to be, though.

  She glanced over at her phone. She and Andrew had been trading text messages off and on all afternoon following their initial exchange.

  Why am I being such a pussy about this?

  She stared at her phone for another long moment and then picked it up.

  Hoping she wasn’t about to make a mistake, she tapped out a text and sent it before she chickened out.

  I was thinking that if the trip doesn’t scare you off for good maybe we can talk about renegotiating hard limits when we get back to do more than we have been?

  She tried not to hold her breath, but now she was really wishing she’d had one of those time delay apps on her phone that people used to help prevent drunk texting.

  I need one to prevent stupid texting.

  * * * *

  Andrew stared at his phone, unsure whether he’d just hit the lottery or a land mine.

  Whatever he did, he couldn’t fuck this up.

  Desperately did not want to fuck this up.

  Finally, he risked a comeback.

  Well, since your crazy seems to fit well with my crazy, I’m thinking maybe that’s a good idea. :)

  He closed his eyes and silently prayed in a way he hadn’t since he was seven and stopped believing in the Tooth Fairy, Santa, the Easter Bunny, and Jesus all on the same night when he was at a slumber party and Wade Wilson’s older brother ripped their childhood fantasies out from under them because he was a sadistic fuck even at the age of ten.

  His phone vibrated in his hand.

  He cracked one eye open and dared to peek at the screen.

  She’d replied.

  :)

  He leaned back in his desk chair, threw his head back, and let out a howl of relieved success.

  If he could make her smile and keep her laughing, maybe he had a chance of not scaring her off.

  And he really didn’t want to scare her off and breathtakingly fuck this up.

  The realization slammed home that there’d been plenty of times, despite being in love with Kandy, that he’d hoped one of their fights would end up with her walking away from him and never returning so he didn’t have to be the bad guy and break it off with her.

  He’d prolonged the inevitable by not walking away from Kandy sooner, thinking he was helping her and not wanting to be the reason she didn’t get help.

  Thinking if he did enough, tried enough, supported her enough, that she’d heal and become better. Wanted to uphold the promises he’d made her.

  Mistake number one.

  Especially since she hadn’t revealed a lot of her personal baggage to him when they’d first met. It wasn’t just the person with the problem who sometimes had the problem. Sometimes the people who loved them were just as screwed up by trying to help them instead of standing back and forcing them to find their own way.

  He’d been Kandy’s safety net, despite trying to help her with her issues. Because no matter what, she always bounced off him instead of fully hitting bottom and getting the help she really needed. The only reason he hadn’t pressed charges against her that final night at the club was because he hadn’t wanted the club to get that kind of attention for his stupid personal problem.

  He didn’t know if Kandy ever received the help she needed, but it wasn’t his problem.

  Not anymore.

  As callous and cold as that might sound, he knew he couldn’t make Kandy be healthy. Especially not at the risk of his own mental and physical health.

  He’d done all that he humanly could for her before she’d burned through his last ounce of goodwill and his last nerve.

  So far, everything about his experience with Rachel had been different—and better—than his relationship with Kandy.

  Everything.

  He always looked forward to seeing her, never dreading their time together.

  Anticipation of the good kind.

  Just like he was anticipating their trip.

  Especially now.

  Not that he hadn’t wanted to take their relationship to another level, a more sexual and intimate level, but he hadn’t wanted to push her.

  Scratch that.

  He’d been a chickenshit motherfucker and hadn’t wanted to screw up what appeared to be a fairly stable, predictable, safe play relationship and friendship.

  Especially the friendship part. Because to have anything more between them than just being friends and play partners, their friendship had to be solid first.

  That had, admittedly, been a fault on his part with Kandy. He thought a great rapport while playing—and later in bed—and a few shared interests were enough.

  They hadn’t started out as friends.

  And it had ended in flames.

  Almost literally.

  Smiling after he re-read Rachel’s texts, he set his phone down and went back to work.

  * * * *

  Rachel and Andrew met for dinner Thursday night to clarify and firm up the logistics. Still a week away from their planned departure, Rachel wanted Andrew to know if he decided at the last minute he couldn’t go that she wouldn’t hold it against him.

  He leaned forward and met her gaze, holding it. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want me to go with you?”

  “No!” She swallowed hard. “I really don’t want to screw us up. I mean, I know we’re not an ‘official’ us, but you know what I mean. I hope.”

  He reached across the table and took her hands in his, sending her heart racing. “I know what you mean. I don’t want to screw this up, either.”

  “Just keep in mind there’s a dang good reason I left South Dakota as soon as I could.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t hold your family against you. I’m going on this trip to support you.” He let go of her hands after a final squeeze. “I booked our hotel room in Clearwater. Free airport shuttle. We can drive up together and leave my car at the hotel for free.”

  “Okay. Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a little selfish on my part. It means I can sleep in Friday morning when we fly out. Otherwise, we’d have to get up really damn early and drive. This is better.”

  “I still appreciate it.”

  “So is there anything I need to know going into this weekend? I mean, I’m assuming we’re not going to mention exactly how we met.”

  She wasn’t sure how deeply she wanted to get into all of that right now. “Mutual friends,” she said.

  “Ah. The old socially acceptable standby.”

  “Not a lie.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “I’ve mentioned you to my brother once or twice, but not the details. Obviously. He knows we’re friends.”

  “I’ll follow your lead.”

  “If I end up implying or outright saying we’re more than we are…”

  Thankfully, he seemed to sense where she was going with that. “I’ll play along, don’t worry. We’ll handle any and all discussions we have about reality at a different time.”

  Relief filled her. “Thank you.” She took another risk. “I do want to talk about…stuff. Loosening our hard limits and doing more. I just need the stress of the trip off my plate first.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not to freak you out or put pressure on you, but there’s no one in my life right now but you. I’m not looking to change that any time soon unless you tell me you’d rather we cool things off. I agree that I’d like to see if we can do more, but I’m not in a rush.”

  He let out a laugh. “Damn, I sound like the most wishy-washy guy on the planet. Don’t tell anyone. They might revoke my Dom card.” He puffed up his chest and pointed at her. “Bow before Dom Zod, dangit.” He grinned.

  She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she finally managed. “I promise.”

  He held out his right hand, little finger extended. “Pinky swear?”

  She grinned and hook
ed fingers with him. “Pinky swear. As long as you promise to beat my ass at the club Saturday night.” Her smile faded. “I really need some stress relief.”

  “Hmm. You’re asking a sadist to beat you. If I was horribly sadistic, I’d say no, but apparently I’m a softy.”

  She loved his smile. “Lucky for me.”

  Chapter Five

  Andrew picked Rachel up at her condo Saturday night and they first headed to dinner with everyone at Sigalo’s. Rachel didn’t miss Tilly’s knowing smile and nod of approval to see them arrive together at the restaurant.

  Maybe if their friends were all on board with this, they might have a shot at lasting for the long haul.

  If meeting my family doesn’t scare him away.

  Of course, if that’s what happened, then Andrew wasn’t worth being in a relationship with anyway.

  Somehow, she suspected Andrew would be up to the challenge.

  Well, she hoped he was.

  All through dinner, Rachel fought the urge to hurry things along and rush. If she was going to trust Andrew, she needed to show him enough respect not to top from the bottom. In her everyday life, she was in charge at work and of her personal life.

  This was a new step for her.

  Because until now, she really didn’t have anyone she could trust and lean on like that. She hadn’t had someone to reliably lean on since before her mom died. Her dad hadn’t been around much after that, even if it was by necessity and not his choice. Then her dad died, and the last person she really trusted was gone.

  She’d had to be the adult for Justin, as much as she could be, the person he could lean on. He’d only been eight when their mom died, but Rachel had felt he was more like her son than her little brother. She was the one who’d made his lunches and made sure to push him hard, academically, made time in her schedule to get to his cross-country and school events—all of that.

  Stepping back and turning off her brain had been a hard thing to learn to do, but she enjoyed every play session with Andrew more than the previous one. The more frequently they played, the better they got to know each other, the more comfortable they grew together, and the better each session was.

 

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