To Sir (35 page)

Dusty sighed. “Chase, she—” He stopped, shaking his head.

“What? Jesus, do you know something? Do you know why she’s shutting me out? If you do, you better tell me right this second.” Anger mixed with hope and resentment. If Dusty knew something and was keeping it from him, Chase didn’t think he could get past it.

“I think she feels the same way.”

Chase scoffed. “That’s reaching. Why would she be acting like this if she…you know.” He couldn’t bring himself to say she might love him. If it was even a possibility, he didn’t know what he could do.

“What if it’s the end of the bet? Or whatever you want to call it. That’s coming up, right?”

“Yeah. Saturday.”

“So if she thinks that it’s ending and you haven’t shown her any reason to believe you want things to continue, maybe she’s trying to protect herself from being hurt when you part ways.”

Chase twirled his glass between his hands. Was that possible? Could it really be that easy? Staring into the amber liquid, he didn’t believe it. “Then why is she lying to me? It’s not only that she’s closing off emotionally; she’s actually lying to me when she says she has to go work on edits or something for the book. I
know
she is.”

“Which you can tell by way of your awesome mind-reading abilities?”

“Shut up. I know because she’s a terrible liar.”

Something flickered in Dusty’s eyes, but Chase wasn’t sure what it was. “I know this is going to sound completely crazy, but really think about it before you say no, okay?”

Chase took another swig of Scotch. “Yeah, sure.” If Dusty had some crazy plan that might work, he’d try it. He would do whatever he could to keep her.

“Collar her.”

He choked on his drink, spitting it everywhere as he coughed. Dusty pounded him on the back, and the bartender looked their way. Chase lifted a hand to indicate he was okay and sputtered for another second before sucking in a lungful of Scotch-free air and looking at Dusty like he didn’t know the man at all, despite how long they’d been friends.

“No way. That’ll send her fleeing faster than anything else. I told you, the harder I push, the more she shuts down. I’m trying to keep her, you moron. Like forever.”

“So collar her.” Sincerity burned in Dusty’s eyes. He was serious, for crying out loud.

“She doesn’t want full-time submission. She never did. She can’t live like that. She won’t.”

“How do you know if you don’t ask?”

“Fucking A. I can’t. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.”

“You’re talking about walking away from her anyway, right? So lay it on the line. Go big or go home, babycakes. Do it. Four days gives you plenty of time to get your shit together. Just make it count.”

“D, I don’t know…”

“What have you got to lose?”

“Everything.”

“And what do you think the chances are of keeping her past Saturday at midnight if you do nothing at all?”

Chase gulped, his heart stuttering. Could he do it? Could he risk it all on the chance that she was pulling away from him because he hadn’t offered her a commitment? With a sense of dread, he nodded. It was his only shot, and when it failed miserably, at least he would know he’d tried everything he could to hold on to the woman who’d stolen his heart.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Finally! Liz closed the browser quickly as Chase padded down the hall. Her deposit from the publisher had cleared, the money sitting in her account just waiting for her to spend it.

Chase came around the desk and placed a hand on her shoulder. “How would you like to go to the park for lunch?” he asked.

His warm hand was a comfort to her the way it hadn’t been the past week. Very soon she would present him with the petition, the letters she’d written, and support from her father’s opponents. Then the check. She took a deep breath to steady herself, knowing the impending conversation would bring their time together to a close.

She forced a smile. “Sure. That’d be nice.” One last date together before she ruined it all.

His smile was as forced as hers. Did he know this was the end? “How long do you need to get ready?” he asked, his voice strained.

She swallowed. Damn. He knew. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. “Half an hour?”

He nodded and kissed her forehead. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll go pack lunch.”

She wrapped her arms around his middle and snuggled into his chest, savoring the scent of his spicy cologne. She would never forget this smell. Never forget the amazing four weeks he’d given her. Without warning, tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to stop them from falling. He rubbed his fingers through her hair, and she clenched her jaw shut to keep from sobbing.

Nothing was going to ruin their last few hours together, especially her.

With a sigh, she released her death grip on him. When she smiled up at him this time, it wasn’t so much forced as sad. He looked like he might question the tears swimming in her eyes, but he chose not to and leaned down for a soft kiss. Desire still flared inside her whenever he touched her, and now was no different. She kissed him back fervently, and he pulled her up so he could have better access to her mouth. He broke the kiss, and they both panted. He kissed his way along her jaw to the spot right below her ear that he knew drove her crazy. She moaned and felt his mouth curve into a smile against her skin.

“Hurry,” he whispered.

“Mm-hmm,” she said, and he moved back from her, then left. They were going to ignore the elephant in the room and pretend their hours together weren’t numbered.

After the mess she’d been at the restaurant Monday night, he might have already decided to end their relationship as soon as the four-week mark was up. She’d never experienced an emotional fallout like that one, and as usual, he’d been there to hold her, to offer her comfort while her guilt ate her alive.

She’d tried to tell him the truth that night. She probably should have. No. He would’ve lost everything rather than let her fight the battle for him. She kind of loved that about him, even as it frustrated the ever-loving hell out of her.

She and Dusty had been working tirelessly every moment they weren’t with Chase, which ended up not being that many hours in a day. For the most part, if Chase wasn’t with her, he was with his best friend. Except for the past three days. He’d disappeared completely. Didn’t matter where, really.

Forcing herself to stop agonizing over her past decisions, she grabbed her purse and dug out her checkbook. She’d never written a check for fifty thousand dollars before, and she went painstakingly slow to make sure she didn’t mess it up. First she’d give him all the evidence and support for their cause she’d compiled, show him they could stop the rezoning laws, that her father’s campaign would end. Then she would hand Chase the check and tell him she wanted to go well beyond their four-week trial period. That she wanted nothing more than to spend as much time as possible with Chase. In his life, in his arms, under his submission. Even if that time was forever. Perhaps
only
if that time was forever. But how could she expect him to forgive her? He’d demanded total honesty from the beginning, and she’d given it to him, eventually. Until now.

She popped down the hall into her en suite to freshen up. She changed out of her T-shirt and into a low-cut, loose-fitting blouse she knew Chase liked. After swiping on a bit of makeup and some earrings, she went out to the kitchen, clutching her purse that held the information to take down Senator Johnson. She should feel something more about her actions against her father, but she didn’t. It wasn’t personal or about revenge. She didn’t take pleasure in knowing she was going to fight one last battle with him and win this time. It wasn’t about payback. It was about protecting Chase and the community she’d been welcomed into.

“Please tell me you’re bringing wine,” she said as soon as she spotted Chase’s firm butt around the corner. He was bending down to reach something in the bottom of the fridge.

He stood and smiled, two bottles already in his hands. “Mmm. You read my mind.”

She’d need the wine. First for the nerves, and then after for the fallout. In the weighted silence, she helped him finish packing their lunch of fresh strawberries, a baguette, cold cuts, cheese, and cheesecake. She put the two bottles of sweet white wine on the bottom of the cooler, then packed the rest on top and put the paper products and baguette in a bag.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, and they carried the parcels out to his car. No matter how the afternoon went, she could trust Chase to see her safely home, whether or not he was pissed off. He was a good man. A wonderful man. And as she climbed into the car beside him, her throat clenched. At least she knew she’d done whatever she could to make his life better, even if that meant not having her in it.

CHASE’S SWEATY HANDS slipped on the handle of the plastic bag, and he almost dropped half their lunch. He tightened his grip and took a shaky breath. This was it. He followed Liz up the ridge of a hill to a lovely grassy spot on the other side beneath a tree. The heat of the desert air was cooler in the park, the trees and surrounding mountains offering some protection from the oppressive sun. They spread the blanket and sat down. They’d been quiet on the ride out to the park, both of them not saying things he knew they should.

After setting down the plastic bag, he opened the cooler Liz had carried and set out their spread. He had to make his proposal just right. Had to show her with his actions and words that he truly loved her before he presented her with the collar. Maybe Dusty had been right. It sure had felt right the past three days as he made the collar. He’d bought the supplies at a local jeweler, then painstakingly worked out the perfect design. He’d discarded several attempts the first two days, but what he’d ended up with was beautiful. It would sit precisely on Liz’s neck with the interwoven triple strands of leather. Right in the middle hung a small silver-and-purple mask that would rest in the hollow of her throat, as long as he’d done it correctly.

Frustration had been like a living thing inside him as he’d worked his thick fingers over the small leather straps again and again, trying to get the necklace perfect. He’d needed time, patience, and determination to craft it, and it had been made with love, cheesy as that sounded. He was head over heels in love with this woman, and he prayed she would accept this gift and continue on this journey with her penniless, unemployed Dom.

He popped open the container of strawberries and silently held one to her lips. She grinned and opened, letting him slide the fruit between those beautiful and talented lips. She moaned in appreciation as she bit down. Her throat worked as she swallowed, and he was reminded of the night when she’d trusted him enough to let him blindfold her and feed her for well over an hour, teasing her incensed senses of taste and smell. So much had happened since that first night she’d been officially his that it seemed like months ago, not four weeks.

Heat bloomed in her eyes as she stared at him, and he knew she was remembering the same scene. She leaned forward, showing him the delicious swell of her breasts, and he slipped another bite of strawberry into her mouth. She ate from his fingers for several quiet moments, and he let the slow burn of desire wash over them both.

“Your turn,” she said finally, reaching into the bowl.

He chuckled and leaned back on his arms, letting his legs spread out and cross at the ankles in a feigned relaxed pose. He was anything but relaxed. She sipped some wine, then dipped the strawberry into her glass before bringing it to his lips. He licked the drops of wine from the tip of the fruit, then savored the mixed tastes as he slowly chewed and swallowed. She fed him more fruit, followed by cheese, bites of baguette, and meat. He nipped playfully at her fingers a few times, sucking the tip of one into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it until she moaned and yanked her hand back.

“We’re in public, Sir.” She waggled her finger at him and tsked, laughing.

He pulled her upper body down on his, and she steadied herself by placing her hands on his chest. He kissed her deeply and cupped the back of her head to hold her close. She leaned into his touch, kissing him with the same passion. When she pulled back from him, her eyes were glazed with lust and affection.

She’d called him Sir. In public. He grinned. Now or never. He sat them up, and she settled back onto her heels, her denim-clad legs bending so she rested on her knees and shins. Automatically in the submissive position. His perfect little bratty sub.

His heart fluttered as he reached into his pocket for the plain black velvet box that held the collar. Her gaze darted from his face to the box and back again. The lust in her eyes faded, quickly replaced by a wariness that shredded his insides.

“I want to thank you for agreeing to give this a try,” he began. He’d had a whole speech planned out, a list of reasons why she should confess to him whatever she’d been hiding and agree to stay with him for the foreseeable future. Somewhere in the speech he’d also mentioned the L word, but he seemed to be incapable of saying anything else.

She sighed. “I’m really glad I did. It’s been…incredible,” she said sadly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“This is for you,” he said, handing her the box.

She stroked the velvet with her middle finger. “What is it?” she asked.

“Oh, for crying out loud, open the damned thing,” he snapped. The waiting was killing him. He had to know one way or the other. Was this the last time they would see each other? Did they just have their last kiss?

With a small smile, she opened the box and gasped. She touched the necklace with one hesitant finger. “Oh, Chase. This is beautiful.” She looked up at him, tears swimming in her eyes. Devastation painted her face.

“Do you know what it is? What it means?” he pressed. He had to know for sure that she was rejecting their permanent relationship, that she was rebuking his dominance and not just upset over the gift itself.

She bit her bottom lip and glanced down, shaking her head.

He took her free hand in his and waited for her gaze to rise to his again. “It’s a collar.”