Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal [Awakenings 6] (Siren Publishing Menage and More) (5 page)

Bits of fear and excitement floated through my bloodstream, taking me by surprise every now and again by surging straight to my heart. I spent the rest of the day having mini panic attacks, and I did not like it.

When Drew and Jonas called us for dinner, I was knee-deep in conversation with Sabrina about a notebook she used as a shared journal with Jonas. I’d heard of using this method of communication, thought I had never used it myself. I’d never had a real relationship with any of my submissives. Drew did not submit to anyone, and he had no trouble discussing anything regarding sex with me.

Sabrina had struck me as ultra-uptight from the first moment I’d met her. It had taken me a little time to get to know her before I understood what Jonas saw in her. Once I’d passed that “aha” milestone, I could appreciate why he’d fallen in love with her. She might be uptight, but that stemmed from deep feelings of inadequacy she worked hard to hide.

“Some things are getting easier.” She twisted the end of a strand of hair around her fingertip. “I like how nothing I put in there is going to lead to a fight. It’s difficult to be honest when I’m only thinking about how my opinion of something is going to hurt his feelings.”

She was one of those lucky submissives who had a Dom who existed to make her happy. Jonas might be arrogant and dominant, but he never made a move without her in mind. Plus, he was one of the easiest people to talk to that I knew. Something about him invited confidence.

She was also the only submissive I topped with whom I did not have sex. Every six weeks or so, she would schedule a session with me. I’d work her over and send her home to Jonas. Often she looked like she wanted to ask or say something, but she never did. At least Jonas had found an outlet for her.

I smiled indulgently. “You can’t worry about that. He needs to know what you’re thinking and feeling. Communication is key.”

“I know, but…” She trailed off, a wistful expression on her face. “If he said anything to you about me staying home with the kids, would you tell me?”

Her question took me by surprise, but I gave her an honest response. “I wouldn’t tell you anything he confided in me, the same way I wouldn’t tell him anything you said. I would urge him to talk to you, though. Why would you think he would say anything to one of us and not you?”

“Hints. Snippets. Bits and pieces.” She shrugged. “Maybe I feel guilty for throwing away everything I’ve worked to achieve.”

I stared at her. “Did you agree to buy Elysium because you feel guilty for quitting your job?”

“No.” With a heavy sigh, she peered across the lawn at her husband talking with mine. “Maybe. I think Jonas wants me out of the house more. He said I’m restless.”

Hearing that made me feel a lot better. I knew they were navigating a rough patch, and I didn’t want to see anything bad happen to their marriage. They were so good together. “See, he does talk to you about it.”

She shook her head. “I overheard him talking to Ellen. They changed the subject when they heard me coming closer.”

I truly did not know how to respond to that. Lots of spouses and friends sought advice about the ones they loved. I knew Jonas was in the midst of seeking regular advice about how he was handling being Sabrina’s Dom.

So I turned it back on her. “Are you restless?”

She leaned closer. “I think all the sex is wearing him out. I’m not restless. I’ve just never had this much energy.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed so hard that I snorted. By the time I was able to regain control of myself, my stomach muscles hurt. Drew chose that moment to call us for dinner.

As people gathered around, they gravitated first toward Drew’s foil-wrapped surprises. I waited. Drew hadn’t just put potatoes in those packages, but I wasn’t about to tell our friends that he was testing out a new recipe. He’d added turnips. I’d turned up my nose when I saw what he was doing, but Drew had only given me a superior look and continued with his food prep.

Once the foil was opened, tempting aromas drifted out. Still, I let everybody else try them first. Turnips weren’t something I’d eaten before, and I wanted a consensus before I waded into those new waters.

Reactions were mixed, which seemed to disturb Drew. He wasn’t used to anything but resounding praise for his dishes. Knowing he’d come for my opinion, I sucked it up and scooped some onto my plate.

They were okay. As expected, Drew parked himself next to me. With the repairs going on, there wasn’t enough seating, and we were eating picnic-style on the ground.

He eyed my plate. “Well? What’s wrong with them?”

I stabbed my fork at what I thought was a potato. “They look like potatoes, but there’s a sharp bite, and nobody expects that when you’re eating potatoes. Maybe if you mashed them with a little bit of cheese?”

His baby blues lightened to match the summer sky. “Like twice-baked, with a bit of crust on the top. Maybe some bread crumbs. Sophie, you’re a genius.”

I wouldn’t go that far, but I also wasn’t going to do anything to tarnish his view of me. I kissed his cheek. “I try.”

We fell silent as we ate. After a few minutes, Drew touched my hand. “Are you serious about buying into Elysium? I don’t want you doing this because you feel pressured. I only want you to do this if it’s what you want.”

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to own the island resort. My accounting business was, by most measures, successful. I had a good number of clients, and I worked hard to juggle them all.

“I’m going to have to hire someone to help me out with DiMarco Accounting, but yeah, I want to do this. It’ll be different. Fun. We can check out what needs to be done next month on our trip.”

He nodded, and I could see the wheels churning in his head. I thought he was planning out some wild sex scenes, but he wasn’t. “I heard Ellen say that Lex and Stef are willing to loan you money. I don’t want you borrowing money we already have.”

I refrained from correcting him. He had money. He came from money, and he made a great living as a celebrity chef. I made okay money as an accountant. I wasn’t complaining, but it wasn’t enough to purchase Elysium. I settled for a single-word warning in my best Domme voice. “Drew.”

He threw the tone right back at me and gave me a firm look to match. “Sophia.”

“I told you I’m not using your money.”

When Drew was angry, his eyes darkened to a brilliant blue. They did that now. “Don’t. We’ve argued about this before. It’s
our
money.
Our
house.
Our
cars.
Our
marriage. We’re in this together. Unless we’re talking about closets or sinks, there is no ‘yours and mine.’ I thought we were past this.”

He knew we weren’t. I maintained a separate bank account. He was the beneficiary, but he had no rights to the money until I died, not that he’d need it. My savings were nothing to him. Though he’d put me as a joint owner on his accounts, I had never once touched the money.

“Drew, I don’t want to fight about this.” I especially didn’t want to fight with other people around. I was crazy private about those kinds of things, but Drew wasn’t as cautious.

“Great,” he said. “Then it’s settled. Move some stocks or whatever around to make this happen.”

I was not his accountant, investment counselor, or financial manager. He wanted me to have those jobs because he trusted me more than anybody else, but I had refused to be responsible for his money. Losing it would devastate me. That was another reason I didn’t want to use his money to buy Elysium. What if this whole thing did go sideways? Where would that leave his finances?

Pressing my lips together, I exhaled hard. “I didn’t agree with you.” Enumerating my reservations would have no effect on him. I had been through this with him too many times to count. He was likely to stick his fingers in his ears and sing “la, la, la” at the top of his lungs if I tried to reason with him.

He grasped my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I ask very little from you.”

Not only were his eyes a dusty blue, but the tips of his ears were red and color was beginning to creep up his neck. I’d seen him truly, irrevocably pissed one time in the five years we’d been together. He filmed his show in his kitchen. No matter how many times he declared that the house was ours, I knew the kitchen would always remain his. One of his catering staff had been there to help prepare the food. When Drew filmed, he made several iterations of each dish, keeping them at different stages of completeness so they could be filmed.

The staff member had taken it upon herself to change out several of the ingredients. He’d pointed out the mistake. Instead of making the change, she had opted to argue. Nobody messed with Drew’s recipes in his kitchen or on his show. He’d lost it, smashing the glass bowls with the wrong ingredients at her feet, and then he’d fired her.

Right now, he was looking at me the same way he’d looked at her. I swallowed nervously. This time when I said his name, it was a plea. “Drew.”

“I want you to have this resort, and I want you to use our money to buy it.”

I wanted to argue. When I put my mind to it, I could be one stubborn bitch, but this man brought out the best in me. I had a deep need to give him what he wanted, and I suddenly couldn’t find it in my heart to refuse him.

I nodded. “Okay. If you feel that strongly about it.”

Just like that, the black cloud of his temper evaporated. His brilliant smile returned. “I like when you’re reasonable.”

Sophia

On Thursday I worked at the Sensual Secrets office. It was a little room upstairs that I’d transformed over the years from the junk-filled storage space to a warm and welcoming office. I used it two or three days each month, and I’d set up areas for Ginny, Drew, and their office manager to do their thing. When I’d first begun working there, Ginny had tried to make me the office manager. I’d refused, but I’d trained her and the current manager, Heidi, because Ginny was a wreck when it came to the business aspect of running a bakery and Drew was only concerned with the savory side of the building. Heidi was a goddess in disguise. She was skilled at managing both Ginny and Drew, and in getting them to do tasks they needed to do but didn’t want to do.

I could have worked from home, but Drew had asked me to be at the office by two. I hoped for a late lunch, but Drew dashed my hopes as soon as I arrived.

The bakery and kitchen were separated by a narrow hallway that contained the stairs to the office at one end and a door that was always locked at the other. The older building had once housed a storefront with an apartment in the rear. The storefront was now Ginny’s bakery, and the apartment had been remodeled into a huge catering kitchen.

He met me there, in the quiet shadows of the in-between place, and blocked me from entering the kitchen. “They’re busy. Let’s not disturb them while they’re doing prep work.”

Cooking hadn’t commenced, so no wondrous scents wafted through the doorway. I eyed the closed door regretfully. “No lunch?”

He tilted his head to the side. “You didn’t eat?”

I lifted a brow and did my best to imitate a haughty food critic. “When heading to the kitchen of the world’s best chef, one does not eat beforehand.”

He laughed and kissed me. “I’ll make you a sandwich. Head upstairs and get to work. I put some papers on your desk.”

The space upstairs was set up with four desks. Most of the area belonged to Heidi, who was on vacation this week. My desk was shoved up against hers. I kept mine clean, mostly because I knew Heidi needed all the available square footage. Along one wall, we’d put two more desks. That work area was for Ginny and Drew.

The stack of papers on my desk wasn’t large. It fit neatly into a regular yellow folder. I opened it to find the documents necessary for us to liquidate some of Drew’s holdings and to transfer that money to an LLC set up by Alexei Morozov for Samantha, Sabrina, Ellen, and me. It was heady stuff.

I sat down heavily on the padded leather chair. After we’d arrived home from Jonas and Sabrina’s, I had avoided all mention of this topic. I didn’t have it in me to go behind his back and get the money from the Morozovs. That kind of betrayal would put a knick in our relationship that would scab over and never heal.

Taking money from Drew filled me with a sense of dread. I couldn’t fail at this. I couldn’t lose his hard-earned money and let him down. I picked up a pen and signed my name next to the many sticky tabs marked with an
X
.

When Drew brought my sandwich, he found me staring at the last signature page, watching the ink dry.

He set a plate down on the desktop. “Did you sign them?”

I nodded without looking up or speaking.

“Feel like you’re going to vomit?”

After analyzing the sensations zooming under the surface numbness that protected me from freaking out, I exhaled the whisper of a breath. “A little.”

“I felt like that when I signed the contract for my first season. Second and third too.”

He was always so confident. That was one of the things I liked about him. It was one of the qualities that made him impossible to scare away when we’d first met and started dating. I found it hard to believe that he’d ever felt like this. “Really?”