Awakening (15 page)

Claire thought back for a second and said, ‘Honesty. There must be complete honesty.’

Evan nodded, but his expression didn’t change. ‘That’s still in effect. So explain the fake smile regarding dinner.’

Claire flushed bright red. She could feel it suffusing her skin and heating her flesh. Damn, she hadn’t thought he could read her that easily.

‘It’s nothing, really.’ He just raised an eyebrow and she rushed on, ‘I just was surprised by the idea of us going to dinner considering …’ She trailed off and waved a hand between them.

Evan took the seat immediately to her right and leant in toward her, dropping his voice a bit. ‘Claire, if you can’t even say the words, what makes you think you’re ready to even explore this?’ His voice was kind, the flatness gone, but somehow that bothered her more.

‘I can say the words, Evan.’ She lifted her chin a notch as she met his gaze. ‘I might need to get over my natural shyness at discussing something so private with a man I barely know, but I can say the words.’

‘Say them, then.’

‘I thought we were going to discuss whether or not you and I would pursue my submission to you and my exploration of BDSM, not go to dinner. And, by the way, I decided to tell Bridget everything. So she knows what I’m discussing with you.’

Evan’s grin hit her full in the chest, ‘You did, did you? That was smart.’ The approval in his eyes gave her such a melting feeling inside. It was as if knowing she’d pleased him filled a space in her heart she didn’t even know needed filling. ‘I’m taking us to dinner, first, because we need to eat and, second, it will take a little of the pressure off for our conversation and it will be good to do it in neutral space. My apartment is upstairs but I think that sends the wrong message for our first conversation, as would your loft, and I keep this part of my life separate from my business.’

At his words, Claire felt her chest ease, and she closed her eyes. She hadn’t even realised how nervous she was at the idea of really embarking on this conversation with him. She’d fantasised relentlessly about him since the first time she’d walked through his door and, with the possibility of all her fantasies becoming real, she felt almost frenetic as the time drew closer.

She jumped as Evan took her hand in his and slowly rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. In a calm, even voice he said, ‘Claire, look at me.’

She raised her eyes to his and, for a moment, felt as if she melted right into the liquid chocolate of his eyes.

‘This is just a conversation. There are no strings. No obligations. No requirements for you to submit to me in any way tonight. You have complete control of how far we take this. At every step along the way, even if we proceed to actual BDSM play, you will have the ultimate control. It will be your choice if we continue, your choice to submit, and your choice to stay. Submitting to me doesn’t remove your control over your life, it only establishes the terms of our interaction while we have it. Understand?’

Her throat squeezed at his intuitive knowledge of her fears. The lack of control over her life. She wanted to submit sexually to a man. She wanted to experience some of the other forms of play. She did not want to lose the ultimate control of her life by default.

Tears welled in her eyes and she squeezed his hand where he still held hers, ‘Thank you, Evan.’

‘You OK?’ Gentle eyes roamed her face, looking for confirmation.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ Her smile was shaky but it was the best she could do. ‘Promise.’

‘OK.’ He gave a firm nod and released her hand. ‘Give me a few minutes to close out and lock up.’

Standing, he moved toward the cash register to complete whatever he did to close out the store. Claire was quite pleased to see she wasn’t so freaked out that she couldn’t appreciate the sight of his tight ass in those jeans as he moved off.

She glowed in the candlelight. Her creamy skin appeared almost translucent and the soft reflection cast enough shadows that her eyes seemed huge and luminescent. Her hair floated around her face, making her seem almost angelic – and it was really time to pull back from channelling Hallmark. He wasn’t here to write odes to Claire as the innocence-enshrouded libertine of his reluctant fantasies. He was here to talk to her seriously about whether or not she was truly ready to explore submission and impact play.

‘Claire.’ He waited for her to look at him. ‘Relax. Please.’

Her hands, which had been restlessly picking at the linen tablecloth, stilled and she rested them on either side of her plate. He’d brought her to Chance, a local mid-scale eatery, where their jeans would fit right in, but the food was still exquisite. Not that you could tell from the way she was picking at her lobster ravioli, and she’d barely even sipped her wine.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice low. ‘I just feel like I’ve got ants under my skin and I don’t really know what to do with myself.’ She fidgeted even as she spoke. Her obvious tension was beginning to infect him. His stomach was going tight.

Reaching across the table, he took her hand. ‘Claire, look at me.’

He waited as she met his eyes. What he saw in those hazel depths cut right through him. Fear. Pain. Hope. It was the hope that made him wish he could run away and hide from her. This tiny promise of doom sitting before him, waiting to be ravished, and he seemed not to be able to leave her alone.

‘Take a deep breath.’ He waited as she closed her eyes and complied. ‘Now, talk to me. Why do you think that is?’ She started to take her hand away, but he wouldn’t let it go. When her eyes flew to his, he just smiled, shook his head briefly, and murmured, ‘Human contact is relaxing. It creates endorphins. Just relax.’

She shifted her grip a bit and relaxed her hand in his. She dropped her gaze before looking off over his shoulder for several seconds prior to speaking. Her hand was surprisingly small and delicate, even more so than her petite stature might indicate. It was almost childlike and felt like satin in his palm. If the rest of her skin felt like her hands it was going to be pure ecstasy to spank her. At the image of Claire bent over his knee, his cock made its presence known, and he involuntarily squeezed Claire’s hand. Surprisingly, she squeezed back. He was about to apologise, but she finally started speaking.

‘I first suspected I might be inclined toward BDSM after reading
Finding Herself
at Bibliophile, but you already know that.’ She sighed deeply and gave him a wry smile, and once again seemed to be searching for the right words. Finally, she shrugged and just looked helplessly at him. ‘I don’t know how to talk to you about this.’

‘Stop thinking and just talk. Tell me about the beatings with Charlie.’ The flash of pain across her face tore at him, but this was important and needed to be discussed. ‘Stop thinking, just talk. And Claire –’ again he waited for her to look at him ‘– the one thing I will never do is judge you.’

Tears welled in her eyes and, for a moment, he thought she’d break into sobs, but she took several deep breaths, squeezed her eyes tight for a few seconds and, with them still closed, began to speak.

‘Charlie was always trying to get me talk about my childhood and my relationship with my family, and I hated it.’ Her words were more a hiss than speech on that last bit. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. ‘Every conversation felt like being squeezed in a vice. As if the air were being sucked out of me and I was going to fold in on myself. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. I would just want to run from him.’

She shook her head as if to clear it.

‘The more he pushed the more I resisted until I would, eventually, begin to lash out. I would take cheap shots at him. Disrespect him. Do any and everything that I knew he hated to push his buttons until he cracked and gave me what I wanted.’

Her eyes had gone unfocused as she gazed off somewhere over his shoulder again.

‘The physical pain was so much easier to take than the emotional. I have a very high pain tolerance. Sometimes I wouldn’t even cry, but sometimes –’ another deep, steadying breath ‘– sometimes, he would pull my hair really hard, hard enough to yank out strands, or punch me in just the right spot and I would cry. The tears were like having a floodgate open. Once I started crying, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’d cry and cry, but when the tears finally dried up, it was as if the vice inside me had been released. I could talk then. I could discuss my pain and my fear.’

Evan didn’t think she realised it, but her grip on his hand had become vice-like. Were he a smaller man, it would have been painful. She was stronger than she looked. He said nothing, however, not wanting to redirect her attention.

‘The problem was that Charlie hated what I was doing to him. He’d grown up watching his father beat his mother and he’d vowed never to do it. Unfortunately, I knew the chink in his armour –’ she continued, her tone going flat ‘– and because I knew it, I could manipulate him with it. All I had to do was imply I was cheating on him. He hates the notion of being cuckolded. The more I made it seem like I was cheating, the easier his trigger was to pull. I craved those arguments. Not the beatings per se, they hurt. They scared me, but the crying, the release, the catharsis … I craved that and I didn’t care if I hurt him to get it. Didn’t see how I was destroying any hope for our relationship.’ She pulled her hand away from his and he let her this time. ‘He hates me now.’ Her voice was a mere whisper as she finished.

‘Thank you, Claire.’ His tone was gentle. ‘That couldn’t have been easy to tell me. I’m proud of you for being that courageous.’ He saw, and was pleased at, the slight pink flush that suffused her skin. ‘Let’s finish up, grab some coffees next door, and we’ll take a walk. Right now, why don’t you just tell me about Chester?’

Her entire face transformed at the mention of her Pitbull. She obviously loved that dog. And while she couldn’t seem to get out the words about wanting to spanked or to feel pain just yet, she had no problem regaling him with tales of Chester. It was so sweet and she was so animated and happy talking about her dog, he felt a heartstring melt.
Fuck.

Claire pulled the covers up tight around her neck as she snuggled into her bed. The dream she’d just woken from had left her wet and pulsing. Evan had made it very clear that they weren’t looking at sex as part of the deal but her subconscious was clearly ignoring him. Oh, he’d made her blush right to her roots when he’d indicated that he would reserve the right to bring her to orgasm regularly and often, but that he himself would not be partaking in her body. He was adamant that his heart still belonged to his wife and he was content that way.

She envied his love of his wife at the same time she pitied his inability to understand that life was for the living. To be so emotionally tied to someone who was lost for ever to you made her ache for him.

Reflecting back on their conversation, she was certain she was making the right choice. She would gift her submission to Evan. He hadn’t judged her. Hadn’t made her feel like some kind of freak. The fact that he’d been the one leaving out all the books actually made her feel pretty cared for.

She would have to be very careful to keep her own feelings in perspective. It didn’t take a genius to see that her feelings went deeper than infatuation. When he’d taken her hand over dinner and she’d looked in his eyes, she’d been confident she was going to embarrass herself by admitting how deeply she desired him, but she’d held it together.

Their walk had been enjoyable, and she’d found herself relaxing with him in ways she wouldn’t have dreamed possible even a few weeks ago. She only hoped that when they had their first session, she would be able to stay calm and not disappoint either of them.

Chapter Eleven – Breaking Down Barriers

I
F HIS HANDS
didn’t stop shaking, he was going to run amok. Evan considered the shot of bourbon he’d poured. As tempted as he was to indulge in a little liquid relaxation, that wouldn’t do at all. He poured it out and took some deep breaths to calm his nerves. He’d done this hundreds of times with Marianne. There was no reason for him to be so wound up, but the idea of Claire here in his apartment was giving him butterflies like he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager and had asked Milly Fulbright to the Winter Dance his freshman year.

All of their “sessions” so far had been strictly talking. They’d take Chester for walks around town, the park, get coffee, all with the purpose and design of setting Claire’s mind at ease and allowing them to get to know one another without the spectre of BDSM hanging over their heads.

He didn’t believe in dominating a woman he’d just met; at least, one with no experience whatsoever. He’d had negotiated scenes with experienced subs but this was something completely different. Claire’s initiation was not something to be taken lightly. In addition, he was taking an aspect of her psyche into his hands and if he screwed up she would be the one to carry that damage for the rest of her life.

He was experienced in impact play. It had been a regular part of his play with Marianne, but the way his nerves were acting up you’d think he’d never seen a flogger before. And spanking, hell, that was one of his all-time favourite things to do. The image of a naked Claire draped over his lap, her sweet ass up in the air and waiting for him to turn it that baby pink flashed in his mind, causing his cock to harden. And that was exactly why his nerves were shot.

Talking with Claire, allowing her to share her hopes, her dreams, her fears, and her baggage was one thing. He’d come to find her an intelligent, funny, and deeply scarred woman who was her own worst enemy. She tortured herself over her past and still carried long-held beliefs of worthlessness and shame. Not that she’d admit to feeling worthless. Despite all their talking, however, there was a wall they always came to. She became jumpy and agitated; she kept trying to change the subject. Talking became more about attrition than about her voluntarily being open and it was time for that to change. Hence their meeting in his apartment today.

Today, Claire was getting spanked if she didn’t open up voluntarily. The twitch in his crotch let him know his cock liked that idea very much. Evan, wished he didn’t agree. At the knock on his door, his chest clenched, and he had to take several deep breaths to get it to relax.