Denial (10 page)

“Timeout,” Isaac says, appearing in the doorway.

“What does that mean?” I mumble, unable to look at him. I’m sure my eyes are puffy, which basically means the beady little things don’t exist.

“I don’t fucking know, to be honest with you.”

“It’s not something you normally do?”

“So far I haven’t done a single thing that I normally do, Maya.”

“Because I’m a complete train wreck, right?”

“No, because I am.”
Really?
“Look at me.”

“Is this a trick?”

“
No
. And I will never hit you without warning. Just let me see your face.”

Maybe if he sees me better in the harsh light, he’ll send me away. Then it wouldn’t technically be my fault. It take a few tries, but I finally pick my head up, surprised to see that he’s kneeling next to the bed. He cups my face in his hands, kissing my tear streaks and stroking my hair. Why is he so sweet? He doesn’t even know me.

Taking on a mind of their own, my arms reach toward him and wrap around his neck as he pulls me into his lap. His jaw is clenched, the muscles of his chest tense and flexed. The anger is practically radiating off of him, but somehow I know it’s not directed at me. Which makes me wonder exactly who he really is, why he does this when he clearly does not want to.

“I’m still feeling defiant this morning. Afternoon,” he says.

“Afternoon?”

“Yeah, it’s almost three o’clock. We slept
almost ten hours.”

“I never sleep that much.”

“Neither do I.” He rocks me back and forth gently, nuzzling my hair.

“What do you mean when you say defiant?” I ask, reaching up to pull a strand of my hair free of his stubble, resisting the urge to run my fingers across his lips.

He doesn’t answer, but his body relaxes a bit. “I really had a great time last night.” The little kid voice. I can’t let myself keep melting every time that I hear it.

“Me too.”

“So… do you mind if we start over after breakfast. Err, dinner, at this point, I guess.”

“Brinner?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. That broke the tension.

“I’m not really hungry.”

“Good. Me neither. That means we can fuck off for a few more hours.”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay then, we’re fucking off some more. Now I just need to get you to smiling again.”

That did the trick for both of us. Holy shit, I almost forgot how incredible his eyes are. He is going to kiss me. It’s the natural progression of things. We must have resisted a thousand times last night, what’s one more?

“Does that mean I can check my phone?”

“No, sorry.”

“Crap.”

He chuckles, the vibrations traveling through his body into mine. “Are you a phone addict, Maya? One of those people that it’s hard to have a real conversation with because your eyes and thumbs are constantly in the virtual world?”

“It’s a habit, yeah, but it’s not usually this bad.”

“That makes sense. Things are much more enticing when they’re forbidden.”

His tone gives his words a deeper meaning, one that I’m starting to understand quite well. “Yeah,” I whisper. “That’s probably it.”

“I’ll let you go on the I
nternet on my notebook. But if you log onto your Instagram, email, Twitter,
anything
, we are going to be in deep shit. I mean, seriously deep shit.”

Because
Luke cyber stalks me. “I won’t. It’s okay, we can do something else.”

“Not much to do. I’m done with the TV for a while. I’m sure we could kill a few minutes on reddit.”

“Just a few minutes, huh?”

“I’ll be right back.”

**************

I can’t figure out if I like his cocky, sexy laugh better than his carefree, juvenile laugh. I know I want to hear more of both of them. He says I’m cute when I giggle. Hovering over his ultrabook is a great excuse to touch each other and we are definitely making the most of it. His thigh is so thick and solid against mine. It isn’t awkward when he wraps his arm around me anymore, but my heart beats even faster.

Who would have thought I’d have more in common with the scary sex master than I do with my boyfriend? A lot more in common. Hell, maybe even more than I do with Piper. We must have said ‘me too’ a hundred times in the past six hours, each instance inspiring a string of webpages and videos that we just
have
to show the other one, only to find out that we’ve both already been there. You certainly wouldn’t know it by looking at him but he has a huge nerdy streak just like me, completely with an addiction to science fiction and fantasy novels, the trashier the better, and practically any show or movie that’s remotely paranormal. And he shares my guilty pleasure for dance music, but he’s not that guilty about it.

But there’s one major thing we don’t have in common, something that basically consumes my entire life. Aside from two semesters of culinary school, Isaac never went to college and he has a thousand questions, less about education and more about students. Some of it seems so obvious, and he gets so shy when he asks them.

The hours ticked by so fast. It’s just stupid, meaningless, bullshit chitchat, but we can’t seem to stop, even though we ‘can’t talk about’ quite a bit. Even that is making it clear that he lives in a
very
different world. One that he seems ashamed of and that he wants to escape. It pisses me off more than it should.

I am so
frigging hungry and I hear his stomach grumbling too, but he doesn’t bring it up. It’s a small price to pay considering I’m used to starving all time. So is he. We must have crossed some invisible deadline because he glances at the clock and his face drops a little. My heart sinks with it. For some reason entirely beyond my understanding, I boldly nuzzle into his neck, my lips pressing into his skin. He stills, faltering for a moment. I can hear the breath catch in his throat as the hand on the small of my back pulls me closer. I can’t help myself. He tastes so wonderful.

“I have to stop you,” he groans.

“No, you don’t.”

Our eyes lock when he pulls my hands away. This is that moment. Again. He’s going to kiss me, he really wants to, I can feel it. Tonight were skipping that step and I guess I can live with it. Maybe he can’t, because he’s moving in, breathing as fast as I am. My heart is going to explode. His mouth crashes into my forehead.
Goddammit
. I let out a groan of frustration that he answers with his cocky laugh.

“Isaac!” I squeal as he flips me onto my back, his hands tickling my ribs as his lips dash around my face and neck rapidly. I try to catch his mouth with mine, but he avoids me skillfully, so I return the favor, pecking his nose, his brow, the hollow beneath his throat. Our hands link, fingers wrapping into each other, but I’m not sure if he started it or I did.

“Thanks for doing this,” he says shyly, propping himself up on his elbow.

“I should be the one thanking you for being patient with me. I’m sure you’re used to it all going a lot faster.”

“Yeah, but it’s always too fast. And… I don’t know. Most girls would have walked out on me by now. My hesitation would have turned them off.”

I shake my head, at a loss for words because I don’t want to tell him how abnormal that sounds. “It, uh… had the opposite effect for me.”

“Me too.”

Please just fucking kiss me already. Please.
He licks his lips, bringing my hand to his mouth and kissing my fingertips. “Are you ready for brinner, yet?”

“Yes,” I peep.

“And what will happen afterwards?” he asks nervously. I nod, biting my lip. “I am not going to hurt you, Maya. I promise. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

That voice along with the shame in his wide eyes make mine water. “I’m not.”
Even if I should be
. I tuck a stray curl behind his ear, letting my fingers linger on his jaw.

“Okay then.” He shakes his head back and forth, casting off his anxiety. “Let’s go eat.”

That cocky, tilted smile again. I don’t get a chance to reply because I’m too busy squealing and laughing as he scoops me into his arms and runs us down the hallway. The light of the setting sun fills the living room, sparkling off the silver candlesticks on the dining room table. We watch it sink behind the skyline for a moment before he turns away and sets me down on the countertop.

“You sit there and be distractingly witty and gorgeous while I make you a sandwich.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one making you the sandwich? Or is that too much of a cliché?”

“Oh, we’ll have plenty of time
for the ‘women in the kitchen’ clichés,” he replies with a touch of bitterness as he heats up a skillet.

He takes a long time making brinner, going into great detail about how to pan fry the perfect chicken breast for a sandwich. To my delight, it involves him rolling up his sleeves and beating them with a hammer while I resist the urge to feel his sinewy muscles dance beneath his golden skin.

We eat slowly, partly to delay the inevitable even though we’re both admittedly excited about it. Adele croons in the background, bittersweet and romantic. I’m so jittery I can’t finish, but he won’t let me apologize because he can’t either. He won’t let me rinse off the dishes.

When he’s done cleaning up, I notice that all of the tension he was carrying last night has returned, especially in his shoulders. I want to rub it away so badly, but I don’t dare ask because I get the distinct impression that he needs a little space.

“Maya,” he says softly. “You aren’t going to like this next part.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, actually, I’m pretty sure that I do. But I have to, okay?”

His anxiety is contagious. “Alright.”

He runs his finger across my jawline as I shudder. When my eyes flutter open, I’m a little shocked to see the rigidity on his face. That’s what he looked like last night when we first met. Where’d the fun guy go?

“Sit down,” he orders, gesturing to a chair that he’s pulled away from the table. His tone is harsh, but I kind of like it.

“Okay.” I comply, my pulse racing as I try to conceal my shaking hands. He notices.

10

He takes another chair and places it a few feet away, facing mine. Disappearing into the living room for a moment, he returns with that stack of papers he was been pouring over last night and takes a seat.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want your answers instantaneously.”

“More questions?” I whine.

His lips roll together as he tries to keep the amusement off his face. “
Dammit, Maya,” he chuckles. “I’m being serious. Tomorrow it’s all eyes down, yes sir, no sir. Got it? Or it’s literally your ass.”

I gulp. “Why are we sitting like this is an interrogation scene in a movie?”

He breathes out a laugh. “No questions! Just do what you’re told.” I stick my tongue out at him. “You have no idea what you’re in for,” he laughs.

“I thought you expected questions.”

“I…” he smirks and looks down. “Fine, but no questioning direct orders. And we’re sitting this way so that I can monitor your body language. You should be used to that by now. I am.”

“Is this the boundaries discussion? Because I’m not really familiar with a lot of this stuff.”

“I’ll make sure to explain it all in detail as we go along.”

“I’d appreciate it.” We’re really doing this. Now. “I’m nervous.”

“I know. I’ll be cutting you a lot of slack the first day, which apparently would be tomorrow.”

“So what was today?”

“Day 0, I guess.” Isaac shakes his head and when he looks up, he has that cocky look on his face that he did when I first saw him, the one that makes him look older. It’s so hot, but I can see right through it. I miss his real face. “How long have you been involved in BDSM?”

“I told you.”

He sighs. “These are standard questions I ask everyone.”

“Oh. Around 6 months.”

“And you’ve been with your current Dominant for the same time, none before him, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Has he collared you?”

“Yes.” I don’t like that term.

“That necklace you had on last night, the one you took off when you changed.” He noticed that? “It’s a form of a substitute collar. You are supposed to be wearing it full time.”

“I don’t.”

Raising an eyebrow, starts to say something and looks back at the page. “Do you suffer from any type of anxiety disorder, including panic attacks?”

“No.”

“Are you claustrophobic?”

“No.”

“When was the last time you were tested for sexually transmitted diseases?”

Sheesh. Interrogate much? “A few weeks ago.”

“I was too, just so you know. What form of birth control are you on?”