Bliss Series Boxed Set: The Whole Damn Harem (68 page)

∞~~~∞

Back then, my doubts about being a submissive or even just submissive to Sean, had always lingered. Sticking at the back of my mind as our relationship progressed from that amazing first date to where we were at the time I broke up with him a year later.

As he explained to me early on, he liked having control during sex. He was not a hard core Dominant, but it was an important aspect of him that I would need to accept if we were to move forward in our relationship. In the beginning, in that glorious honeymoon period where you can’t get enough of each other, where you can’t stop touching, kissing and making love to each other, Sean eased me into his ‘way’ of doing things. It was such a heady feeling to give myself to him. It made me feel fulfilled, complete even. In a life where I’d only ever had my mom and the soldiers on the Army base where we lived as role models, I was somewhat exhilarating to have a man want to take care of me the way that Sean did. He cherished me, protected me, looked out for me.

The sex was AMAZING. I’d been with two men before him and there was no comparison. It was like he was the sun and they had been Uranus. I kid you not, the sex was out of this world. But with a mother that raised me the way she did, I always wondered if I was giving a part of myself up when I was with him, a part that was given willingly and without thought.

As natural as breathing.

The day I broke up with him was the most devastating day of my life, but at the time I felt it was necessary.

It was after Sean met my mom for the first time. To say it didn’t go well is an understatement. Mom had all but dismissed him from the get go. We arrived late which is something that my mother never appreciated from anyone, but when it was from her daughter’s boyfriend it was unforgivable. Then Sean ordered my meal for me and spent the meal with his arm hooked around the back of my chair, things that were natural for us and I actually loved but Mom saw those things differently.

Later that night, when I was in my dorm and called her as requested, she made her unimpressed opinion of Sean very clear.

“Samantha, that boy may be nice, but you are losing yourself to him and that is unacceptable.”

Mom, that is a bit unfair. You spent no more than an hour with him.”

“I didn’t need any more than five minutes to see that the boy is dominating your relationship. No future pairing should be built on an uneven foundation, and what you have with Sean is as crooked as a dog’s hind leg. Your father abandoned us the minute you were born, Samantha, and because I was weak, I nearly crumbled. You must stay strong and clear-minded. That man is older than you, headed into a very stressful, powerful career and you’re already downtrodden. Get out and end it now.”

“He’s not like that, Mom. He’s—”

“He’s domineering, controlling, and disrespectful. You do not need a man like that.”

“No! I will not end my relationship with Sean just because you have the wrong idea about him.”

“I think you’re not hearing me right, young lady. I said you need to end it with him. He is not the right kind of man for you. You need someone who will honor you, support you, and turn up early to the lunch where he’s about to meet your mother for the first time. Richards women are no subservient or submissive. We’re equal with our men. I wasn’t with your father, but I’ve learned from
that
mistake. I just don’t want you to make the same misguided choices that I made.”

“I—”

“No, Samantha. It’s simple. Clean break. Do it now before things get more serious.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“No thinking required. Clean break, no harm done. Now, I must go. Early flight in the morning.”

“Okay, Mom. It was nice seeing you.”

“Call me when you’ve sorted it out, Samantha. I want better for you.”

Later that night when Sean rang me, I’d already been in bed for an hour and was emotionally spent. I blew him off by feigning a headache and promised to catch up with him the next day.

My mother and her toxic opinion of men had successfully fed my doubts about Sean and my relationship. I knew that when I talked to him about it, he would try reasoning with me, but I didn’t need handling or psychoanalyzing. All my life I’d been handled in one way or another. What I needed was time and space to think things through.

But I didn’t get time and space, and that may just be why things ended the way they did.

∞~~~∞

On Saturday morning, I receive a call over the radio saying that I have lunch waiting for me at the precinct. Confused but intrigued, Zander and I make our way back to base and walk in to see a bunch of the most beautiful yellow sunflowers I have ever seen on the front desk. Beside the bouquet is a takeaway coffee, a chicken Caesar salad, and a spiced apple muffin.

I think I died and went to heaven in my first bite of that muffin. Of course, there was no note but the desk sergeant told me that a nicely dressed, very handsome man had delivered it and asked that I be told it was there. I didn’t need confirmation to know who it was from.

During finals in college, when I was working myself to the bone studying, Sean would stop by with a coffee and a muffin. Of course, I returned the favor by giving him head under his desk, which would lead to him pulling me up from my knees and bending me over said desk …

You get the point.

The smirk on Zander’s face is infuriating. “An admirer, Sam?”

“Like you can talk, Roberts. You go pansy faced whenever your girl sends you a text.”

His eyes widen slightly before he shakes his head at me, but not before I miss the slight blush of his cheeks. “Anyway, we eating or what?” he asked before heading toward the break room. I chuckle as I follow behind him.

I place the flowers in a cup of water so that they’ll last my shift, then put the food on the table and grab my cell from my pocket with the intention of sending a short, sweet text to say thank you.

Me:
Hey, it’s Sam. I’m guessing the early morning lunch and flower delivery was from you?

Sean:
Good guess, Samantha. I want to see you again. We need to clear up last night’s miscommunication.

Me:
No need. Thank you for the lunch and flowers, they’re beautiful. Totally unnecessary.

Sean:
Nothing is unnecessary when it comes to you. Let me know when I can see you again.

Holy fuck! I couldn’t respond to that. If there was such a thing as being stunned text-less, that was me.

∞~~~∞

Sean texts me every night, asking how my day was and reminiscing about specific events in our past. It’s disconcerting and thrilling at the same time, like traveling on a roller coaster through time but knowing that the only direction this could go is down, but I can’t help myself. It has been nice to reconnect with him. He has asked me to meet with him again, but I’ve been a coward, continuing to offer up excuses as to why I can’t see him again.

Texting seems less threatening than a phone call. Don’t get me wrong, I still totally overanalyze his words and the meaning behind them and agonize over my replies, but it
is
getting easier. I’m trying to quell the feelings for him that I sense are resurfacing. Honestly, I don’t know that I can be the woman he wants, not full time anyway. I admitted to myself a long time ago that although I’m sexually submissive, I’m not into the hardcore kinky shit. I like being restrained, controlled, used by the man I’m with, but it needs to be in the right moment and with the right man. Tanner is not that man, and neither were the few one night stands I’ve had since Sean.

Remember I said he’d ruined me for other men?

Despite his Saturday delivery last week, and our text conversations since, I’m still the same coward who can’t admit she was and is still wrong. It’s always been my biggest fault, and with Sean I have more than just the date and my behavior during it to apologize for. How do you say, “Oh, by the way, I’m sorry I fucked up first time around and ruined something fucking awesome between us. Forgive me?”

If only it were that easy.

“Me & My Jealousy”

Sean

I’ve found myself at the Chicago Police Memorial Foundation’s annual fundraising dinner, representing my firm as a last minute favor for my boss. I haven’t brought a date. With more notice, I would have considered asking Samantha, but I know I need to tread lightly with her. Last week’s date showed me that I need to be smart in the way I approach her if I want her back in my life … and my bed.

I’ve had a lot of time to reflect this week on what is missing from my life. Apart from Mac, I haven’t wanted a woman for more than a night or two since Sammy, and seeing her again has made me realize that she is the reason why. But in order for me to be sure that she wants to be with me too, she will need to be the one to come to me. I can’t force her; I can’t make her want to be with me again, but for my peace of mind and for the sake of saving both of us a repeat of the past, she needs to be sure.

That’s not to say I can’t help her make her mind up though.

My life seems to be un-complicating itself. Well, mainly the part of my life that involves Ryan. He moved back to his apartment earlier this week and has promised to contact both the therapist and Gamblers Anonymous. This time I’m hoping he’s been scared into getting help. There is still the matter of his debt to the bookie who roughed him up in the club, but that is one debt I refuse to settle. But if any trouble is made for myself or my club, I promise there will be hell to pay.

I’m sitting at a table with a bunch of old law school buddies of mine when I see her. There may be a lot of beautiful women here, but none of them compare to the sunshine-haired beauty as she walks into the room on the arm of a man who looks like he wants to eat her. I struggle to stifle the growl that rumbles in my chest. My lips tighten, my fists instinctively tightening on the table in front of me. She’d told me about Tanner, her casual, not serious fuck buddy, and all indications are that her escort is one and the same. My first instinct is to rip his hands off her; the very thought of any man that isn’t me touching her vexes me. I watch with a cold glare as they approach a table with two vacant chairs, smiling at another tall, blond man and his attractive partner who I note has the most striking red hair I have ever seen. He stands and gives Samantha a hug before shaking hands with Tanner and inviting them to sit down. Once Samantha takes her seat—which I’ll add, Tanner did NOT pull out for her as a gentleman should—he sits down and drapes his arm possessively along the back of her chair. I subconsciously grind my teeth in frustration. If there was ever a moment to see green, this was it.

In short, I’m jealous as fuck.

What I ought to do is walk up to her right now and sweep her off her feet, taking her from the room and back to my bed, where she belongs. But I distract myself with the conversation at the table, sneaking glances in her direction every now and then.

Until the moment that the key note speaker steps up onto the stage and talks about all the big donors for the night, one of which is my firm. I look over to her table and lock eyes with her. The look on her face goes from wide-eyed shock to confusion, to something resembling embarrassment as her cheeks go pink and she sits up straight, noticeably shifting away from her date. I smirk and her eyes narrow as she realizes that I’ve obviously been watching her for a while. I nod a silent hello before shifting my attention back to the speaker, not looking back at her for the duration of the speech.

It’s not until after the dinner, when the band starts playing and couples start congregating on the dance floor, that I decide it’s time to make my next move. Waiting until Tanner is engaged in what looks like deep conversation with the man next to him, I stand and move toward Samantha’s table.

“Samantha, what a surprise to see you again.” I purposefully pause to take in how breathtaking she looks in close quarters. She’s wearing a demurely sexy, black V-neck dress. Standing above her I get a glimpse of a black lace bra that has my dick twitching in anticipation of seeing more, but I try to calm my thoughts and clear my head, focusing on the end game—getting my girl back.

“Y-Yes. Hi, Sean. Fancy seeing
you
here …” she says, leaving her comment open ended in anticipation of an answer.

“Yes, a funny coincidence, wouldn’t you say? Fortunately, my boss called in a favor late this afternoon and I’m attending the dinner in his place.”

“I see.” She fidgets in her seat and curls her hair back behind her ear repeatedly. Her apparent nervousness is very becoming.

“Babe, who’s this?” The dickhead to her left asks, unapologetic as he turns toward me, obviously sizing me up. His words are clipped, his tone aggressive at best.

“Tanner, this is Sean Miller. He’s an old
friend
of mine,” Sam says, emphasizing the word friend. Her eyes sparkle with amusement as I hold my hand out to Tanner who just looks at it before slowly shaking. A firm but inconspicuous squeeze gives his true thoughts away, making the smile on my face morph into a knowing grin.

“Great to meet you, Tanner. I wasn’t aware Samantha was seeing anyone—”

“I’m not!” she interjects harshly, not realizing how much she has just given away. She looks at him quickly with guilt written all over her face before turning back toward me. “I mean, Tanner and I are just friends and colleagues.”

My grin gets bigger at her unintentional admission. “Great, then you won’t mind me stealing Samantha away for a dance. We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we,
friend
?”