Sub for a Week (2 page)

Daniel moved his hand from my shoulder to my waist, ushering me inside. "Thank you, Maddie."

"Have a good evening," Maddie called from behind us, closing the door before either one of us could offer her a reply.

Once inside what seemed to be a long hallway, Daniel stopped. "Are you okay?" I went to face him, but he held me still. "Not yet. I figure since we only know one another through IMs, you might want to get comfortable with my voice first. Now, I'll ask again. Are you okay?"

I shivered. "Nervous."

"First time in a dungeon—of course you are. But we aren't here for that. We're just here to talk."

I could've sworn he was going to say something else, but for whatever reason, he kept it to himself.
We're just here to talk ... for now.
That's what he was going to say, and regardless of whether he said it or not, it affected me just the same. I clenched my jaw and held back yet another chill that threatened to ripple up my spine.
   

"This way."
Daniel's hold on me tightened as he urged me forward, down the hall through a third set of doors that led into what appeared to be a very empty room with a bar.
"Drinks?"

I shook my head.

"Julia?"

He was waiting for a verbal response. I didn't trust my voice to save my life.

"N-no thanks," I croaked, clearing my throat when I realized how dry my mouth was.

"They have water in the rooms," Daniel assured me, leading me across the open floor to a door in the wall. Digging through his pocket, he pulled out a set of keys and undid the lock. I was about to ask him where the key came from when he said, "What? You think I get this kind of treatment just by being a frequent flier?"

"I..." Taking a deep breath, I tried again. "Y-you work here?"

I hadn't even thought of it until now. Come to think of it, his profession never came up. Our discussions always covered what brought him to me in the first place.
Purely professional.
Until now.

Daniel scoffed. "No." I smiled at the lilt in his voice. "I
own
it."

This time I couldn't hold the shiver back. Just the way he said
own
caused my breath to catch, but either because he hadn't noticed or because he didn't want to scare me off, he didn't mention it.

Once we were inside the room, Daniel closed the door behind us. "Go on and have a seat on the couch over there. I'm just going to grab some water."

While he busied himself with the mini-fridge just inside the door, I glanced around the room. It was larger than my bathroom. In fact, it was almost as big as my bedroom, which didn't say much. Living in an apartment, you kind of get used to
closed
in spaces. Daniel's playrooms, however, were an exception.

Not only was there a leather sofa, there was also a bed in one corner of the room, a handful of end tables and what I'd guess was a closet filled with blankets. I'd learned enough about the lifestyle to know how important aftercare and warmth were to a sub when they came out of subspace, so the surrounding furnishings didn't surprise me.

"Sorry for the room. It's the tamest one we have here," Daniel said, handing me a bottle of water.

I'd gotten slight glimpses of him from the corner of my eye, but now I got to see the full picture. As promised, he wore a suit that was just a tad darker than my own. The buttons of his dress shirt were undone toward the
top,
whether for comfort or show I couldn't be sure.

Combing his fingers through a head of brown hair, he sat down on the sofa, patting the cushion beside him. "Julia, sit. Please. Like I said before, we're only here to talk."

Clutching the water bottle in my hand, I met his gaze, studying his hazel eyes before sitting down so there was an empty cushion between us.
Come on, Jules, you can do this.
I'd met clients before. Meeting Daniel wasn't a big deal.
The hell it's not. Do you even see where you are?

I averted my eyes.
Glanced up at him.
Looked away again.
Pull it together.
As a therapist, I was supposed to make eye contact. Hold it. But with Daniel in the same room, looking right at me, I couldn't even manage to do that.

"Man, I figured you were submissive, but—"

I glared at him.
Dared him to continue his thought.

He coughed. "Sorry. That wasn't professional."

"No, it wasn't."
Great.
Go on and jump from one awkward moment to another.
I straightened my posture. Now that I’d managed to meet his gaze, I refused to let it go. "So, you said during our session earlier that you wanted to meet. What's up?" I was going to ask him why he'd invited me to a private playroom, but thought better of it. Doing so would've put me on the offensive. In person or not, this was still a session.
A session he'd damn well be paying for.

"On or off the record?"
He stared at the hands in his lap.

That depends.
"On." Not that I'd brought a pad of paper with me or anything.

And that hadn't gone unnoticed. Not in the least. Daniel studied my hands and the open space between them.

"I can add to my notes later," I explained when he didn't say anything. "But like always, this is confidential. Anything you say stays between the two of us."

"Unless you feel I'm a danger to others or myself," he added.

"Yes.
Of course."
God, I hoped he hadn't asked to see me because of that. He'd made so much progress. The thought of seeing him give up, of him ... I shook my head.
Get those thoughts out of your mind.
"But I sincerely hope you don't mean to say—"

"I want to help you."

"You ... what?"
Clearly I'd heard him wrong.

Daniel rubbed at his neck before looking back at me. "I think you know how easy it is to read another's mind once you learn your way around it, right?"

"Yes, but I don't see why—"

"Let me finish." He exhaled. "Being a Dom works the same way. It's our responsibility to know our sub's triggers, to see when she's distressed, even if she tries to hide it from us. This isn't just limited to physical cues either. Some Doms have been known to practice scenes over the Internet through IMs, much like our therapy sessions."

"And you have experience with this?" I already knew the answer before I'd even asked, but I had to hear it from him.

He nodded.
"Very much so.
And that isn't something you can just turn off."

My heart sank. I was more than familiar with what he was talking about. Even when I chatted with family, I couldn't help reading them through their IMs. It was second nature, and like Daniel said, it wasn't something I could just turn off.

Daniel continued when I didn't reply. "I've been reading you, Julia. Not because I wanted to, but because I couldn't help it. You got under my skin, and now ... I can't shake you. I want to help."

Pushing my own feelings to the side, I placed an invisible wall between us. "And what is it you think you figured out about me?" My voice was terse. I tried not to cringe.

This wasn't like me at all. That voice ... it wasn't mine.
Get the hell out of here unless you want to get buried.
Apparently I wasn't the only one who had invested too much into this relationship.

Daniel took my hands in his, and when I didn't pull away, he looked right at me. "I know you aren't happy, and I'm not just saying that for my own ego. I also know that how I'm feeling now, you feel the very same way."

"And how's that?"
The ice in my voice made my skin crawl.

"That I want to hold you. Kiss you." He shook his head. "Now that I've seen you, I ... tell me I'm not coming from left field over here."

It would've been easy to say he was the only one. To say I had no idea what he was talking about. For me to reject any feelings I had for him. But lying had never come easy for me, and if he was able to read past my IMs the way I'd read through his own, lying wouldn't have gotten us anywhere.

"We shouldn’t be talking about this," I said through clenched teeth.

"Here?" Daniel gestured to the room.

"No, not just here.
We shouldn't be talking about this at all."

He cocked an eyebrow.
"Why not?
Professionalism?"
He laughed. "Honey, if it's professionalism you're worried about, we're way past that, and you know it."

I tried to say something, but he was right. The moment I started to feel something for him I should've walked away. I swore to myself I stayed because he couldn't cope with another therapist,
which
could’ve been true, but he was so close to finishing his therapy that it probably wouldn't have mattered.

"Fine."
I tucked one leg beneath me. "But if you've been analyzing me, what did you find out? Most of our sessions were focused on you."

Daniel grinned. "You should know better than that. It's more about what you didn't say than what you mentioned in our sessions."

"Enlighten me."
Go on, bury yourself even more.
At this point, I was pretty sure there was no getting out of it.

"Your profession.
You didn't pick it because it was something you dreamed of doing. You're envious."

"Of my clients?"

"Not exactly.
You envy their ability to get off and enjoy themselves."

"So you're trying to say I live vicariously through them then? You couldn't be more wrong."

"Am I?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Think about it. Anytime I made a breakthrough, you were ecstatic."

"For you."

"I don't think that's entirely true. Yes, you were happy for me, but I also think that you just knowing I was able to have some kind of release—the release you seem to be craving even now—was just enough to keep you afloat."

"And who says I need release?"

He nodded to me.
"Your posture.
I admit
,
I wasn't one-hundred-percent sure about my analysis until I saw you tonight. And now, there's no way I can be wrong."

"You're just full of yourself, and I think now would be a good time for us to part ways." I stood to leave, but stopped when Daniel took my hands.

"Maybe I am, but I want to help. I know there's at least a bit of truth in what I've said, otherwise you never would've met me here."

"Here's better than at a bar."

"True, but here, in this exact room—you never would've agreed to it unless you felt the same way I do. Not when there's a public room right outside that door."

I settled back down beside him. "What else do you know?"
What else do you think you know?

Daniel turned to face me and leaned back against the arm of the sofa. "Given your profession, it's easy to see how you can overanalyze things. Tell me something, when you look at another man or woman, or even me for that matter, what comes to mind?"

I shrugged.
"Nothing."

"No feelings?
Attraction?"

I shook my head.
"None."

"And your last relationship?
Was he attractive?"

"By public standards or my own?"

"Yours.
I don't care what the public has to say about looks."

"Not really, no."

"Then what drew you to him?"

It had been so long since I'd met my ex that I couldn't even remember. It could've been at a bar or at some college party for all I knew. One thing I did know was how uneventful it was.
So much so that I couldn't even look back on it.

Daniel cleared his throat. "Let me rephrase that. Looking at your ex now, is there anything that might attract you to him—minus the fact that you're broken up?"