Knowing the Ropes (29 page)

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Authors: Teresa Noelle Roberts

BOOK: Knowing the Ropes
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“Please. I’m begging you. We need to talk, and we can’t do it through a door.”

He couldn’t actually hear her sigh, certainly couldn’t see her shrug, but he was sure she did both before she said, “I’m not sure how productive it’ll be, but sure.”

Nick reached for the doorknob. Pulled his hand back. Considered throwing up his hands and walking away if that was how she felt—with about the same degree of seriousness he might consider moving to Bali to be a beachcomber after a crap day of work.

Went to open the door again and found Selene had already done it.

Her eyes were red and puffy, her face blotchy, her mouth set in a hard, determined line. She ushered him in, closed the door, then turned on him, so like an angry cat he could almost see her back arching, her fur standing on end. “What’s this all about, Nick? Masters don’t beg their slaves to listen. Masters don’t apologize. Aren’t I just supposed to take it? I’ve fucked up, and I don’t think I can handle the punishment, so I guess I’d better walk away.”

“What the…”

“That’s how this is going to go, isn’t it? I nagged at you, got you mad. Got you so mad you hurt me a lot. And you’re saying you’re sorry, but it’s all going to come down to being my fault, that I asked for it. Classic abuser pattern, by the way, except that it really is my fault, and I really did ask for it—I mean literally asked for it—and I’m not sure I can handle what comes next.”

He took a deep breath, trying not to fly off the handle at some of her assumptions, because flying off the handle again now would just confirm them in her eyes.

Maybe even in his.

He’d crossed the caveman line tonight in a bad way, not a fun, sexy alpha-male-playing-a-game way, and even though she’d been consenting, he
felt
like an abuser. “Explain to me how my losing my temper is your fault.”

“I nagged you. I was going on and on about Natalie, and it pissed you off. For God’s sake, you told me you loved me just to get me to shut the hell up.”

Nick banged his head against the wall, not as gently as he’d intended. Then he turned around, put his hands on Selene’s shoulders. She felt soft, warm, more fragile than he usually thought of her, and he wondered how he could have beaten her like he had, even though she’d shown every sign of enjoying it up until the stupid, clumsy end. “Is that what this is all about?”

“You don’t love me, Nick. I know it. And if you do, that’s not a good thing. You broke up with Natalie…”

Time to cut off that line of reasoning.

Make that way past time.

“She broke up with me, Selene. Left me high and dry. Told me I’d gotten too soft and mushy for her, that she needed a firmer hand.” Despite the gravity of the situation, he smiled as he added, “Of course, being Natalie, she had to ask permission to leave, so you might say I dumped her, but I cared for her, so I couldn’t expect her to stay if she was unhappy. That just proved I wasn’t the right guy for her, because her right guy would make her stay even if it took locking her in the basement until she changed her mind. And never mind I don’t have a basement.”

“So you…” Selene’s expression changed. A little doubt, a little incredulity, but at the same time a little more hope in her red-rimmed dark eyes. “You’re saying that you and Natalie…but you said…right from the first you’d said that you didn’t think love and BDSM would work together for you because of what happened with Natalie.”

If the light-bulb-going-on-over-her-head expression had been any more obvious, she’d have grown long, floppy ears and turned into Bugs Bunny. “Duh! The problem was on her end, not yours, but you weren’t ready to try again. Why didn’t you say so?”

“With what you were looking for, that wouldn’t have come off as a good recommendation. I had a really hot, fun woman who wanted to learn about BDSM and submission without romance or commitment involved. I’d have been an idiot to tell her I’d driven my last submissive away by falling in love too hard and I needed to keep things casual because otherwise I was afraid I’d lose perspective. Right? I mean, from my point of view?”

She looked like she was trying to fight off a chuckle but failed. “Yeah, I guess so.” Then she took a deep breath and got a look of steely determination on her face. “About as much as I would have,” she added, her voice softer, swift as if she had to let the words out fast or they’d never get out at all, “if I’d admitted to the guy who was all ‘love and BDSM don’t mix’ that I was falling for him. But I might as well get it out in the open so we can figure out where to go from there.”

She loved him! Or she was falling for him, anyway, which was at least three steps in the right direction.

Then he focused back on the earlier fight. “Then why did you laugh it off when I tried to tell you I loved you?”

She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, looking like a particularly cute Fury. “Because you sounded mad as hell when you said it! Usually when you say that and mean it, it’s not in the same tone as ‘get out of my face, you psycho bitch’. Wouldn’t be the first time someone said something they didn’t really mean to stop an argument.”

“Who told you…” He realized his fists were clenching, his body poising to fight, as if he wanted nothing more than to strangle or deck whoever it was who had lied to Selene about something so important.

She must have caught it too, because she flushed a brilliant scarlet and looked away. “No one,” she said, almost imperceptibly. “I did it to someone.”

He’d have expected his fists to unclench, but he still felt like punching whoever had pushed her to that point. “Tell me,” he said, surprised by how much of an order it sounded, even though that wasn’t his intent.

“Will, this guy I was dating back in Rochester. He’s a great guy. Molly was so into him, and my mom—they just loved him and thought he should be The One, with capital letters. He’s good-looking, smart, really sweet. Eager to please, would do just about anything for me. Wanted kids, and soon. The kind of guy that a woman’s supposed to want.”

“Except you didn’t.”

“No. And I felt terrible.”

Nick ventured a smile. “Let me guess. He was a gentle, tender lover. Always.”

She nodded, a bit ruefully. “Most women would have been thrilled. I mean, he was cuddly and romantic and loved cunnilingus. What’s not to like, right?”

“Except that’s not who you are.”

“No. But he wanted me, bad, and the sex being so-so didn’t seem like a good reason not to want such a great guy, and I hate hurting people’s feelings. He pushed and pushed for a commitment, but always in the sweetest way, and I couldn’t think of a good way to say no. So I said yes. And the next thing I knew we were living together and planning a wedding, and I think by that time we both knew we’d be miserable together. For one thing, we’d both defer to the other so nothing ever got decided. He wasn’t weak or dumb, but he really wanted me to be the strong, in-charge one, and that’s just not me. At least not all the time. Maybe I should introduce him to Vicki,” she added wickedly, naming one of their domme acquaintances. “I think I remember her saying something about her ideal guy being orally fixated and into being a stay-at-home dad someday, and I think Will would be great at that.”

“So even before you were really aware you were a sub, you knew you didn’t want to be the one in charge. Interesting.”

She blinked as if she’d expected a different, perhaps more violent, reaction. “Not all the time. I’m…I’m not Natalie. I couldn’t live that way. I’m not sure I could be like Alison, even. I like my independence. And I need to work with battered women. But I also know it’s only part of me, that part of me also needs to yield, needs to surrender. Needs roughness and wildness and control—but mostly in the bedroom or leading back to the bedroom. If anything, I need the release so I can keep sane while doing something as stressful as helping battered women get their lives back. I don’t know what that makes me.”

She backed up to the rocking chair and sat down abruptly as if saying all that had taken a lot out of her. Then she blinked and seemed to wait for a reaction.

Nick crossed to her, crouched down in front of the chair, put his hands on the arms. Waited while he formulated the right way to answer.

“A woman I could love,” he finally said.

“What?”

“You still don’t believe me, do you? Maybe this will help.” He leaned forward and kissed her.

Her eyes were wide when he let her come up for air again, pupils dilated with need, lips swollen from the force of the kiss. “That proved…something,” she said dreamily. Then she blinked and added, “I thought you wanted a slave, eventually. Natalie said…” Blinked again. “But Natalie isn’t exactly a reliable source. I know that. Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

Nick shook his head. “Once, I did want a slave. Total control, total ownership. It makes a great fantasy.”

“From the other side too.”

“For a long time, I thought it was my ideal, the thing I should strive for. It’s the ultimate expression of dominance and submission, and I’m the kind of person who likes the ultimate…whatever.”

Selene laughed. “That makes two of us. I’m following you way too well here.”

“For some people”—Nick gestured around the room in illustration—“it works. Garth and Alison have a great thing. But it’s their thing. We could have a great thing too, but a different thing. One that works for us.” He paused, then added, “If you still want to, that is. I was a real ass tonight.”

“Yeah, you were. And so was I. I was a jealous cow, and you were angry, and we both jumped to conclusions.”

“I hurt you.” He took her hands. “Natalie would say a dom doesn’t have to apologize, but sometimes we do—if only so we can live with ourselves. And this is one of those times. I’m sorry. I know better than to play when I’m angry, and I wasn’t controlling myself as well as I should have. I pushed things way too far.”

She bowed her head, tried to hide her face in her shoulder, muttered something he couldn’t catch.

“What?” Very gently, he took her chin in his hand, turned her head. “What did you say?”

Her face was flaming red, a blush—or maybe a flush—extending down into her cleavage. “I loved some of it,” she whispered.

He felt his own face flush at the bald admission.

“I didn’t like the anger. I could feel the anger, wasn’t sure how in control you were, and that scared me. And humiliation just pisses me off. But being tied up like that…and the paddling…and the cane. My God, the cane. It hurt like crazy, and while it was going on, it was almost too much. But at the same time, I could see where…” She took a deep breath as if gathering her courage. “I’d like to try it again sometime, but…slower, if that’s the word I want. Give me time to get used to the feeling.”

She bit her lip and shifted in the chair. She flinched a bit as she moved, but her face looked curiously content despite the flinching, as if her ass was sore but pleasantly so. “I can’t believe I’m saying that. I don’t even know if we should be together. If we should be doing this stuff.”

“Of course we should.” He said it with a confidence he wasn’t sure he felt. “Why shouldn’t two consenting adults who love each other…”

“I think maybe that’s what’s scaring me. As long as I could tell myself it was just casual and any thoughts of love were incredible sex warping my mind, I could cope. Wanting you to do hot, nasty things to me was just all good clean dirty fun. But it’s more than that. I want you tell me what to do and…make me yours somehow. More than I expected, more than I ever thought I’d want. And I love you and you say you love me and how does that work? I know it can, but how? Now it all seems more complicated and darker somehow. I never knew I could want that much pain. Never knew I could need so much. Never knew I could like being treated that harshly. And never knew I could be so in love that thinking I’d lost you tonight hurt more than anything you could possibly do to me.”

She began to sob, helplessly, hopelessly. Nick froze, not sure what he should do, although all his instincts called out to take her in his arms.

But some instinct on her part drew her to him, made her throw her arms around him, snuggle close against his chest.

The rocking chair tipped too far as her weight shifted. She pitched forward.

They both ended up lying on the floor, her sprawled on top of him, laughing while she cried.

Nick’s brain was going in six different directions, trying to figure out what to do next, how to handle all these new complications.

Nick’s body and heart were more straightforward. A beautiful woman lay on top of him, soft in his arms, still smelling of rut and sobbing as though her heart was shattered? Arms go around sobbing woman. Lips nuzzle her ear in a comforting way, murmur soothing noises like those you might make to a dog during a thunderstorm or to a child woken from a nightmare—no sensible words, just crooning. Cock twitches, starts to harden. Doesn’t get too insistent because of the tears, which seem to be serious tears, not the cathartic kind that can happen during great scenes, but starts to get ready just in case the warm, musky, soft woman decides that, being pressed against a hard male body, she might find something better to do than cry.

And heart reaches out in its own way, embraces her, vows to keep her safe, even though, his brain tries to remind his heart, he caused her problem in the first place.

Finally she quieted, both tears and laughter burned out.

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