Apt [Running to Love 6] (Siren Publishing Classic) (4 page)

BOOK: Apt [Running to Love 6] (Siren Publishing Classic)
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“Hello, Dave.” She threw caution to the winds, dropped her purse and hurried to him. She pressed herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. For a moment he relaxed against her, and his big biceps closed around her shoulders before dropping away. He stepped back, forcing her to loosen her hold, and stared down at her.

“Why are you here? How did you find me?” His arctic tone made her heart shrivel. It was hardly the reunion she’d envisioned, but she was determined to make it right.

“You sent me a letter, so I came to the address on the envelope.”

“I wrote you to let you know I was fine, to thank you and your parents and say a formal good-bye. I wanted to apologize for not saying it when I left.”

Fiona drew in a calming breath. “You left in the middle of the night, Dave. Hardly a time to say good-bye to people who care about you and were worried sick for months until we got your note.” She heard her voice rising with a hint of tears and struggled to remain overtly unaffected. She wouldn’t use emotion against him.

 

* * * *

 

Dave didn’t know how to respond. She was here. Here in the Club. He’d just figured out that he needed to tell her he’d moved on, say his farewells face-to-face, and she’d circumvented his careful plan. He couldn’t allow it. He wasn’t good for her. He was a Dom, and she was a nice, sweet girl. A good girl. She was submissive but not a sub. He wasn’t making any sense in his own head, but he just knew she shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t ready. This was his fault again. And the confusion and high anxiety made him cruel. “I sent the note for closure, Fiona. I thought I’d been clear.”

She reared back as if he’d slapped her. He might as well have. He tried to mitigate what he’d said. “I’ve been working through my shit, uh, my stuff, Fiona. I’ve been seeing a real therapist.”
And she works me over during her off time, too.
“With her help I’d decided to go and see you and your folks to apologize and make my good-byes final, I mean, really formal.”

“A
real
therapist?” Fiona’s faint response made Dave realize he’d just minimized all her efforts to love him out of his PTSD. Fuck. He was just digging the hole deeper. Hurting her.

“Dr. Massey is also training Dave to be a Dom, Fiona. You’ll like her. She’s a wonderful therapist.” And now his sister was shoveling right along beside him, like he really needed the
help
. Dave turned the conversation back to Fiona.

“Why did you come, Fiona?”

He could tell she debated answering and without really considering it, fixed her with a Dom look. She blinked and looked at the floor. Shit. Submissive. “I came to find you, Dave, because I love you and I missed you.” Her explanation was barely audible but loud enough for him to hear.

It was his turn to blink. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? She loved him. Just as he loved her. But it was impossible to go that route. He was a Dom, and she was a good girl. He shook his head, conflicted. Her words hung between them and then crumbled to the floor when he said nothing in return. Fiona’s eyes brimmed with tears, and her mouth trembled. She looked around the room wildly to where Jackie watched in apparent fury and Ashley looked resigned. He could still redeem this. He could reach for Fiona, dominate her with his personality and make amends, but he was too afraid. Dr. Massey’s raised eyebrow popped into his head, and he shook it again. Fiona’s hurt blue eyes focused on the motion, shifting to a troubled gray.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you, Dave. I haven’t changed, so I guess I thought, I hoped, you wouldn’t have, either. I apologize.”

Fuck, she was such a lady, such a well-mannered girl, and she was walking away to pick up that ridiculously huge purse she always carried. He swore she could go anywhere with that bag and live out of it for a week. He struggled to say something, anything, and then evil fate once again intervened to fuck him right up the ass. Max and Meredith walked into the Club, the good doctor wearing her famed red stilettos and her tight, fire-engine-red dress. Fiona stood there with that damn purse held like a shield between them, clearly struggling to control her emotions, and Meredith immediately responded as the shrink she was.

“Hello. Meredith Massey.” Dave watched numbly as Fiona stared at Meredith’s outstretched hand and then at her face. Her stunning eyes cleared of the unshed tears, and something cold and calm entered them. Her lips firmed, and her face tightened. His girl had guts and spirit to balance her submissive nature, but he could only guess at what it cost her.

“Fiona Lambert.” She touched her fingers to Dr. Massey’s and nodded to her before walking past, her slender little body erect, taut to the point of breaking, and Dave just watched her go. His feet felt glued to the floor. She managed to haul one heavy door open and slipped through it. The door quietly swung shut, and silence ensued.

“Asshole.” Jackie hit the nail on the head with her comment. Then she turned and stomped away and into the Club proper. Ashley, taciturn as ever, gave him a speaking glance with those icy eyes and followed her girl. Beau didn’t even come over to greet him, and he, too, gave him a baleful glance. Max, showing his usual sensitivity, mumbled something about getting a room organized and nearly ran after the two women. Meredith raised that infernal brow.

“That was Fiona,” he said unnecessarily. “I just fucked up royally. I wanted to go and talk to her on my terms, and she beat me to it. I have no idea what to do now.”

“I’d suggest you run after her and crawl at her feet, Dave, but she’s probably long gone and would likely kick you in the teeth if she isn’t. Go join Max, and mayhap our final session tonight will give you insight and a way to proceed. Oh, and Dave? You’ll never top that girl twenty-four-seven.”

“I’m not topping her ever.” He sounded like a pouty five-year-old who’d just seen his favorite toy broken, and Meredith narrowed her eyes at him. Dave numbly made his way to find Max and wished he was anywhere else in this goddamn world. Asshole. Grade A.

Chapter Four

 

It didn’t hurt. At least, it didn’t hurt so badly she couldn’t function. Fiona kept telling herself that, over and over. She’d had such high hopes and romantic notions. Romance. Ha. She fantasized she would find Dave, and he would scoop her up in that well-remembered way he had. He would hug her and kiss her and it would all end well. She had some pretty vague ideas about what would happen next but naively believed that love would carry the day. Although she had anticipated some hot sex in her future, too. Well, her love alone hadn’t been enough to carry much of anything, to judge by the way he reacted. It seemed he no longer loved her, if he ever had, and she felt pretty stupid, mortified actually. He was that Dom person now, and she was just the daughter of some country folk he’d taken refuge with, good enough to spend time with in rural Lansdown but nothing special here.

She regretted not saying good-bye to Jackie and Ashley, walking out like that, but if she hadn’t, she would have fallen apart. She wouldn’t embarrass Dave any further, especially in front of his
therapist
. Right. Therapist. He’d replaced her young, inexperienced self with that amazing older woman, and there had been another really good-looking young man with her. Probably Dave was in one of those polyamorous relationships, too. How stupid had she been, really?
God
.

Well, there was nothing for it but to somehow quit crying and try to figure out the rest of her life. She hadn’t believed his good-bye note for one minute, but he’d told her right to her face this time around, and she’d be stupid to ignore it. He looked different, kind of disengaged when he kept shaking her out of his head, but he hadn’t tried to dissuade her, hadn’t even tried to ease her humiliation when she’d said she loved him. Right in front of his sister, too. Fiona got up off the bed and went into the bathroom to wash her face clean of tears, tucking all the inconvenient emotion away. She was footloose and fancy free now, with no romantic entanglements, and figured she could do whatever she wanted with no obligations. Not that she wouldn’t respect herself. She just wanted to live a little and not have her heart involved. Fiona opened her little laptop and began to read up on BDSM.

Hours later she wearily shut the computer down and dragged herself to her lonely bed. Her head spun with all the variables she’d discovered, but she was highly titillated and extremely aroused by what she had learned. The power exchange spoke to her, if she understood it correctly. Fiona thought she wanted a man to top her, especially in the bedroom. She wanted Dave, actually, to be that man, but he had clearly moved on. Well, she decided to go forward as she meant to finish, and that could involve joining one of those clubs and finding herself. She just might find a Dom during the process, although she knew that was rebound pain and anguish talking. But she wasn’t going to pine and waste her life just because Dave didn’t love her. Life was too short. The pep talk didn’t stop her from crying herself to sleep.

 

* * * *

 

“Push back, Dave, you know the drill.” He relaxed and did as Meredith expected, and the plug slid home. It was considerably larger than the one he’d taken two nights previous, but he welcomed the burn. He deserved it. His shame was huge, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Fiona and how she had thrown herself into his unwilling arms and told him she loved him. He’d let that sweet girl proclaim what her misguided heart told her and thrown it back in her face. He was a piece of shit.

Goddamn it. Meredith had just laid a lick of fire across his ass. He flinched involuntarily until it bloomed into the heat and flex of sensation. Awakening all those nerve endings took great skill, and she told him he was going to be as good as her if he kept practicing. He just couldn’t concentrate. He’d like to practice on Fiona’s little ass for bearding the lion in his den.

Meredith abruptly released his ankles and then worked on his wrists. She impatiently checked them for chafing and spared a satisfied look when there was none.

“You’re done, Dave. At least here. You appreciate the use of toys, and you’ve mastered the paddle and the flogger. Keep working with the single tail, and you’ll outstrip Alistair. I just hope you find someone else who’ll reap all your skills.”

“I’m done?” Somehow Dave thought he had weeks to go. He ignored her last statement. This wasn’t the time or the place.

“Yes. Although not with office sessions. I’ll expect you the day after tomorrow. Same time.”

Dave belatedly realized she was angry with him, anger that was in reaction to disappointment, and she’d disengaged the scene as she wouldn’t be able to do her best work. He was too overwhelmed to try to figure it out. He nodded and found a robe to wrap around him so that he could go back to his quarters and shut everyone out. And take the damn plug out. Too bad Meredith hadn’t stopped the scene before she shoved it in.

He locked his door because otherwise ’Stair would be along to have some kind of discussion with him that would probably involve feelings and doing the right thing and all that shit. It fucking well hurt, and he wasn’t going to talk about it with his buddy. It was bad enough he had to do it with Dr. Massey in a couple of days. He didn’t have to, but he would. He had to deal with this somehow and then find a way to apologize to Fiona. He would go to her when he could do it the right way. He was going to tell her how sorry he was to have reacted the way he did and ask her forgiveness for his rudeness. No, beg her forgiveness and then explain to her that what she felt for him wasn’t love but a crush born of her natural caregiving nature, and he just wasn’t the guy for her. That nice little explanation sounded just fine to him even if his heart felt heavy and his cock sullenly chastised him for being a goddamn liar.

An authoritative knock on the door jerked him from an uneasy doze, and he cursed and tried to ignore it, but it sounded again.
Freaking Alistair.
Dave got up from the couch and stomped to the door, yanking it open.
Max. What the hell?
The younger man looked at him with what could only be annoyance and a touch of dislike. Dave’s defenses came up, and he stepped back warily. “What?”

“I’d like to talk to you.”

“Then come in before I end up in some kind of group-therapy shit. People have been pausing outside of my quarters all night. You’re the only one who actually had the balls to knock.” Come to think of it, why hadn’t ’Stair done so?

“What’s your story, Dave? You upset Meredith, and I don’t like it. I told her she shouldn’t mix personal and business, that it wasn’t ethical and all. And it cost me.”

Dave felt sick. He once again had caused those around him grief. Would he ever learn? And just when he thought he’d come back to himself, Fiona had turned up and reminded him of whom he’d been. It was her fault. He wasn’t ready. Damn impulsive woman. Then his innate honesty kicked him in the ass, and he placed the blame where it belonged. That was on him. He had it right the first time around.

“So what’s your story?” Max sounded pissed.

“Meredith didn’t tell you?”

“You know better than that, Dave. She may have fucked up by both topping and shrinking you, but she’d never talk about you, not even to me. Quit hedging, or fuck off.”

Dave’s Dom rose, and his hands fisted. Max was a sub, and there he stood, challenging a Dom. He glared at the man, but Max didn’t back down an inch, and the revelation hit him like the proverbial ton of bricks. Max was indeed submissive but fiercely protective of his Domme. Fiona, too, was submissive, that part of her calling to him so strongly before he even knew what he was, and she had been protective of him when he needed it, as well as far more courageous. She had known what she needed and asked when he hadn’t provided it. He felt nauseated with shame and turned away to go and sit on the couch. He put his head in his hands and heard Max shut the door. Dave thought he’d left, but then the leather chair squeaked as Max sat down.
Okay, then. Confession time
.

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