Nobody's Hero (23 page)

When she felt him ease his arm away and
slowly get out of the bed, though, the same sense of abandonment
she’d felt when he’d walked out of her bedroom the other night came
over her like a wet blanket. Tears pricked her eyes. She tried to
turn onto her back, but her neck and shoulder muscles screamed in
protest, so she remained on her left side and listened as the door
opened and closed softly.

Adam was gone.

The tears filling her eyes just made her head
pound even more and her sinuses clog. He wouldn’t want to be her
Master anymore. How could he? She was an awful slave. If she loved
him enough, wouldn’t she be able to give Adam herself, totally and
completely? But her stubbornness wouldn’t let her sell her
independence, not even for Adam.

Karla didn’t know how long she lay there
feeling sorry for herself and miserable, when she heard the door
open again and the smell of…cinnamon? Had Angelina been baking this
morning? Her stomach growled and she moaned as she tried to turn
over.

“Lie still, kitten.”

“Adam? What have you…?”

“I’ve brought you breakfast—or tried. Fucking
stove…”

Adam brought her breakfast in bed? But he
couldn’t even boil water. Determined to see what he’d made, she
ignored the pain and turned onto her back to find him standing
there in his sweats and a USMC t-shirt, carrying a plate stacked
high with gooey cinnamon rolls in one hand and a glass of orange
juice in the other. The only thing sweeter was the sight of Adam,
smiling at her. Fresh tears filled her eyes.

“Hey, I may have burnt the bottoms a little,
but I don’t think they’re worth crying about.” He grinned and she
couldn’t help but smile back as she scooted up against the
headboard. Adam set the glass and plate on the nightstand and
gathered up the pillows. “Lean forward.” She did as he told her,
oddly happy he was giving her orders again, and he positioned a
couple of pillows between her and the headboard. “There. Lean
back.”

“Yes, Sir.” Those words helped to right her
world somehow. Everything was going to be okay. Adam hadn’t left
her. Yet.

Adam picked up one of the sticky rolls,
noticed the blackened bottom, and tore a piece off the top and held
it up to her mouth. “Open.” Like a little bird, or a little child,
she did as he instructed and he placed the doughy treat in her
mouth. Next to pancakes, this was her favorite breakfast. But if
Adam continued to feed her like this, it just might become her
favorite.

After Karla had devoured three of the eight
rolls, she glanced over at the juice. He licked the sticky
sweetness from his fingers. “Sorry. Forgot the napkins.” His
sheepish grin melted her heart like the icing on the cinnamon
rolls. He picked up the glass of OJ and held it to her lips at just
the right angle so she could drink without choking. No one had
taken care of her like this since she was fifteen and sick with the
flu.

After she’d indicated she’d had her fill, he
placed the glass next to the plate. “You should eat some, too, Sir.
I could never eat all of those.”

“Try one more.”

For Adam, she did and he seemed pleased, then
he went into the bathroom and she heard water running in the sink.
He came out carrying a balled-up wet washcloth and brushed the
still-warm cloth against her mouth as he cleaned her up. Again,
that feeling of being cared for, cherished, nearly overwhelmed her.
Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe he wasn’t going to send her away
after all.

After he returned from putting the washcloth
back in the bathroom, his face grew serious.
Oh, no!
A
stabbing sensation right over her heart took her breath away.

“Do you remember what happened last
night?”

“We had sex.” Maybe if she reminded him of
better things.

He grew even more somber. “No. I mean the
night after that. On your way home from Cassie’s.”

An image of a beautiful doe springing out
from the woods into her path caused her to bolt up, and the room
began to spin. “Oh, no! The deer.”

“Lie back.” His hand on her shoulder was
firm, but tender, and he settled her back against the pillows
again.

“I wrecked your SUV, Sir.”

He waved his hand away. “It’s insured. The
main thing is you weren’t hurt more seriously.” He stroked her
hair, tucking a strand behind her ear and cupping her cheek. “You
had me so fucking worried, kitten.”

“I’m sorry I was late. I’m sorry I didn’t
do—”

“Kitten, no more apologies.”

She couldn’t even apologize right. He wasn’t
happy with her.

Adam stood up and shucked his sweatpants, but
kept his t-shirt on and crawled back into bed. “I need to hold you
right now, kitten.”

He wanted to hold her? She scooted back down
into the covers and into his warm arms and he adjusted the pillows
for his head, while he guided her head into the crook of his chest
and shoulder.

“You’re home with me now—safe and sound.
That’s all that matters.”

Home with me
. Was her home with him?
But did he still want to be her Master?

“Sir?”

“Yes, kitten?”

She paused, not sure how to ask. What if she
just gave him ideas he hadn’t considered yet? Maybe she should just
keep her mouth shut until…

“Say what’s on your mind, Karla.”

Oh, it usually wasn’t good when he called her
Karla. She wanted to be his kitten again. But at least he didn’t
sound super annoyed with her. She rubbed her temples, trying to
formulate a lucid sentence. The normally soothing hunter-green
walls in here failed to make her feel calm.

“Do you want to take one of the pain pills?"
Marc had the prescription filled before they went home last
night.

“No, thank you, Sir.” She was having enough
trouble thinking clearly as it was. No sense mucking up her brain
any more than it already was. His hand stroked up and down her arm,
warming her a bit. “Sir, please don’t give up on me yet.” Her raspy
whisper embarrassed her, revealing how raw her emotions were right
now. So vulnerable. “I’ll do better next time. I promise, Sir.”

“I don’t want to hear any more
apologies…”

She hated the pleading tone in her voice—the
neediness—but she couldn’t stop the flood of words spilling from
her heart. “I feel lost, Sir. Even before the accident…ever since
you left my room… I know you aren’t pleased with me as a slave.
That you want me to leave. That I disobeyed you—willfully. Oh, Sir,
I’ll take whatever punishment you want to give if you just…”

Adam sighed and slid away from her. She
shivered without his warmth. He
was
going to leave her,
well, ask her to leave. This was his house, not hers. If she could
blink the tears away before they fell, at least she wouldn’t look
so pathetic.
Fail
. They trickled down the sides of her face,
into her hair, and onto his pillow where her head now rested.
Ashamed to face him any longer, she turned away and curled into a
ball, keeping her gaze on the window and realizing for the first
time she was on Adam’s side of the bed.

Adam’s warm hand reached out and he took her
upper arm, guiding her gently onto her back. “Eyes on me.” She
blinked rapidly, futilely hoping he wouldn’t see her tears. She
just didn’t have any fight left. She gazed up at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling that
way the next morning?”

She took a deep breath, not wanting to reveal
something so personal, but he’d asked her a direct question. She
must answer if she wanted any chance at remaining his slave. “I was
embarrassed. I didn’t want you to think I’m emotionally fragile. I
know this makes no sense, but I went to you in the shower just
because I wanted you to hold me. When you told me to get out, just
as you had earlier...”

She felt his body tense and he closed his
eyes.

She finished on a whisper. “I just felt so
abandoned. Unwanted. Alone.”

“Karla, about our Master/slave arrangement—”
She reached up and pressed two fingers against his lips, hoping to
stop the words before it was too late. Tears spilled from her eyes,
but she no longer tried to hold them back.

“Please, Sir, give me one more chance…”

“Read.”

Karla furrowed her brow. “Have I read what,
Sir?” Why was he talking about reading all of the sudden? Was her
brain still fuzzy from the narcotic or banging it in the SUV last
night?

“Red, the color. Red, our fucking
safeword.”

“Yes, Sir. I remember my safeword. But I
don’t need it. Really, Sir, I’ll do bett…”

“Silence.” Adam pressed his finger against
her lips. “Kitten, I’m the one trying to fucking safeword here, if
I can get a word in edgewise.”

What did he mean? Angie said subs have a
safeword. She didn’t say anything about Doms, or Masters in this
case, using them, too. “Masters can’t safeword. Can they?”

“Masters can do whatever the hell they want
to do.” As if to soften his words, he smiled and the lines at the
corners of his eyes crinkled just the way they had when she’d first
met him at the bus station in Chicago. Why didn’t he smile more
now? She loved seeing those crinkles.

“Either partner can safeword, kitten, when
things get too intense or painful, or they just need to stop for
any reason.”

Finally what he was saying sank in.
Oh,
no!
He was releasing her. Permanently.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sir.” Oh, God.
But she had! She’d displeased him! “I’m so sorry.”

“If I hear you say you’re sorry one more
time, I’m going to take you over my lap—just as soon as your
injuries heal—and wallop the daylights out of you. Haven’t you
heard a word I’ve said?”

“You safeworded. You don’t want me to be your
slave anymore.”

He smiled with satisfaction. “Exactly.”

Adam’s face swam before her eyes. The
stabbing pain she’d felt earlier sank into her stomach now. “I’m so
sor…I mean, I hurt you, didn’t I, Sir?”

“Not intentionally, but…” He closed his eyes
as if in pain.

Oh, but she
had
hurt him.

His gaze returned to hers and he cleared his
throat before continuing in a whisper. “I could have lost you last
night, all because of my stupid command that you return within that
tight window of time, without regard to weather or anything else. I
should be horsewhipped.”

But where would Karla be if he called it off?
Adam liked his women to be slaves, didn’t he? Joni had been his
slave. If Karla wasn’t his slave, she’d lose him.

“Please, Sir, you don’t have to safeword. I
really will do better. If I’d just done as you’d told me—”

“Enough, Karla!”

His raised voice caused her chest to
constrict again. Damn it. How would she ever be what Adam wanted?
Could
she ever be? Apparently not.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

She heard his growl, but didn’t care. At
least if he spanked her, he’d show he cared. But she was going to
lose him. The thought of not having him in her life caused the sob
she’d tried to tamp down to come out in a gasp. She hated the
neediness in her voice, but the one person she’d wanted to love her
more than anyone didn’t want her.

“Please don’t send me away. I can’t lose you.
Not again.” She hated the neediness in her voice. God, how had she
become so fucked up?

He gazed down at her mouth. Okay, she was
rambling. He probably wanted to get one of those mouth gag things
and…

“Karla, when did you say you started feeling
abandoned, depressed?”

She shook her head. “I’m not depressed…”
Well, maybe she was, but she didn’t want to admit it to Adam.

“Answer the question.”

“When you walked out of my room yesterday
morning.”

“I’m a fucking idiot.”

Well, I’ll admit you certainly are slow at
figuring out how badly I need you.

“Kitten, you’re experiencing subdrop.”

“No, Sir, this isn’t anything like what I
felt when you tied and suspended me in the great room. That was
incredible…”

“No, that was sub
space
. I know you’ve
been bombarded with a whole new vocabulary lately, but subdrop is
about the polar opposite. It usually happens after an intensely
good scene. Can be up to a week later, but the feelings you’re
describing—abandonment, unworthiness, depression—those are all
signs of sub
drop
. In the vanilla world outside BDSM, it’s
the equivalent of the feeling you get after going on the best
vacation ever, then having to go back to the real world again. You
tank. Hit rock bottom. For a sub/slave/bottom in the lifestyle,
though, it’s even more intense.”

That sounded exactly like what she was
feeling.

He reached out to stroke her cheek. “My guess
is the drop is associated with the Shibari session. Your mind went
into subspace; separated from your body—twice. That’s pretty
intense for anyone, let alone someone in one of their first BDSM
scenes. Then our aftercare session was interrupted by Damián.

“Then you didn’t want to get rid of me?”

“No, hon. As much as I should, I don’t think
I can. What I’m trying to do is get rid of this god-damned
twenty-four/seven Master/slave arrangement. It’s just not right for
either one of us.”

“But you…”

“I fucked up. Screwed the pooch. However you
want to say it, it was wrong of me to offer you that. You’re never
going to be a slave, Karla. And that’s okay.”

Adam’s gaze became fixed on her lips and he
lowered his head toward hers and brushed his lips across hers,
sending jolts of electricity to ground somewhere near her clit. She
reached up, wincing at the pain in her neck muscles as she
interlaced her fingers at the nape of his neck. No way was she
going to let him get away this time until she was ready.

Karla opened her mouth and Adam’s warm tongue
delved inside. Her hips bucked up in response.
Touch me there,
Sir
. But she couldn’t ask while their lips were locked
together. She moved her left hand down his arm until she found his
hand and pulled it up to lay across her breast.