The Agreement (13 page)

We drove along, and I said nothing. He was
right, of course. The cat was now out of the bag with us. Both of us knew each
other's inclinations, even if mine were purely for research purposes.

Lara said he was absolutely trustworthy.

"Drake, it's just…" I shook my head,
my cheeks hot. "I'm so embarrassed."

"I know." He reached out to take my
hand and squeezed it before I could pull it away. "How do you think I
feel? Your father actually
likes
me. You don't know how much that means
to me." Finally, he let go of my hand and glanced quickly at me.

I really didn’t know what to say.

"I know you and he don't really get along
well," Drake said softly. "But he's like the father I
wish
I’d
had. My own father was so self-absorbed and away from home so much that I
always felt as if I was just not important enough. He was always,
'Hey, I
love you man,'
but I never felt it. If he had loved me, why was he always
away?"

He said nothing for a moment as we sat at a
stoplight. "Your father is maybe
too
involved in your life but as
someone who felt neglected, I envy you that. When I met your father at my dad's
funeral, he took me under his wing immediately because he and my dad were such
good friends. So, if he found out about
me
…" He shook his head.
"I've read some of his judgments. I know what he's like."

"And yet you
like
him."

"He's like a second father to me. He's
smart and competent and powerful and has so much history with my dad. And he
likes
me, Kate."

We arrived at my apartment and when the car
stopped I got out and started walking up the steps. He followed me quickly to
the door.

"
Kate
." He took my arm and
tried to turn me to face him. "Don't run away. I want to talk. Straighten
this out between us."

"There's nothing to straighten out. We're
square, OK? Let's just go our separate ways."

As usual, someone had propped open the door to
the building so their cousin or uncle or homey could come in. I opened the door
and kicked the piece of cardboard aside that was holding it open, my hands
shaking just a bit. I went inside and of course, he followed me before the door
closed.

I glared at his chin. "You said you
wouldn't come in."

"You said you'd talk to me."

"I did."

"
Kate
…" He put his arm out and
stopped me before I reached the stairs, his hand on the wall. I stood there and
stared at the leather strap on his wrist.

I waited. He kept his arm like that.

"Are you really going to try to stop me
from going upstairs?"

"I want to keep talking."

"Is this what Dominants do? Always try to control
things?"

"
Yes
." He exhaled heavily.
"I like control Kate. I'm a Dom. It's what I do."

I stood there staring at his arm, at that darned
leather strap with ornate carving in it.

"I'm listening."

"Write up an agreement, include anything
you want in it, any terms, and I'll sign."

I considered, stalling for time so I didn’t have
to answer. "What
is
that?" I pointed to the strap. "Is it
some kind of kinky
bondage
thing?"

He let his arm drop and fingered the leather
strap.

"This?" He twisted it on his wrist so
that the carving was on top. "No, it's not some kinky
bondage
thing, although I do have a real leather fetish." He smiled as he stared
at the strap, running his finger over the carving. "I love leather, how it
feels and smells, and how really fine hide warms when it's against naked skin.
I make my subs wear leather corset dresses, naked underneath, but I'm thinking
of adding in a garter belt and black stockings with a seam in the back."
He grinned at me. "And thigh high leather stiletto boots when we go to
fetish parties, but maybe in your case, I'd settle for shorter heels..."

I couldn't hold back a grin and turned my head
away. "Not fair," I said, trying desperately not to like him.

"
What?
"

"You trying to make me like you."

He laughed out loud. "See? You
do
like me."

I said nothing for a moment, trying to get my
face under control. Beside me, Drake cleared his throat and continued.

"Really soft leather is also nice for
restraints, but you have to know how to tie them carefully." He glanced at
me and his eyes were intense under those dark arched brows. "But
this?" He looked back at the strap. "This was a gift from a
patient."

"What does it say?"

"It's French. Here," he said and held
his wrist closer. "Do you read French?"

"Just a bit." I took his wrist in my
hand and examined the carving.

He cleared his throat. "It's from
Fern
Hill
."

I frowned.  "I know that poem. Dylan
Thomas." I could make out a single line – the last line about
singing in his chains like the sea.

"You know it?" he said, his tone surprised.
"It's my favorite poem. The end especially."

Then he recited the end of the poem.

I stood there in silence for a moment, a bit
shocked that he knew poetry well enough to be able to quote it. I cleared my
throat, which felt just a bit choky.

"My favorite line was something about being
easy under the apple boughs."

He smiled. "That's the first line."
Then, to my surprise, he recited it and I just stared at him, not knowing what
to say.

"Do you know the whole poem by heart?"

He shook his head. "I can only remember the
first and last stanzas. I memorized the whole thing once, back in college. I
loved it because it made me think of my childhood. How happy I was and how
unaware that soon, it would all come crashing down."

"How did it come crashing down?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Oh, you know. Life in
general." He said nothing for a moment. "I had a patient, a young boy
of thirteen from South Africa." He returned his gaze to the leather strap
on his wrist. "He suffered from inherited dystonia. A muscle contraction
that makes the body contort. He had it all his life. It's hell, but he had such
a great attitude. The Foundation brought him here a few years ago to do the
operation and we became friends. He made this after he recovered from surgery
and went back home. You know – touristy 'native' jewelry sold in the gift
shops. I wear it because it reminds me why I became a doctor, and a
surgeon."

"Oh, that's…" I said, taken aback by
this side of him and a bit embarrassed that I automatically assumed it was
about his bondage kink. "That's so…
nice
."

An awkward silence passed between us.

"But the quote? How did he know to include
that?"

"He was here for six months and we arranged
for him to have tutors. He liked poetry the most of all his classes. He asked
me what my favorite line of poetry was and I told him."

He looked at me, his expression thoughtful.
Then, he dropped his hand and his face changed. That grin started and the more
human moment passed.

"So about our
agreement
. You can
include sex if you want, but remember I'm only
so
kinky. I have
limits
…"

There
. He had to ruin such a nice human moment by
turning it back to sex.

I hesitated, considering. I could write a really
great paper on the issue. I had Lara and now I had Drake. Both were ways into
this world for me as a researcher and journalist. Plus it would satisfy my own
curiosity.

"Give me your phone," he said,
motioning to my bag.

"Why?"

"Just give it to me."

I reached into my bag without thinking, handing
him my iPhone. He opened my contacts, entering his information.

"There," he said. "At least
consider what I've suggested. Draw up an agreement with whatever you want
included and send it to me in an email."

I took back my phone and started up the stairs
since he was no longer blocking me. He called up after me when I reached the
top.

"Remember, send me an email. I'll sign
anything you want."

"Goodbye, Dr. Morgan."

"Good
night
, Ms. Bennet."

I rolled my eyes and suppressed a smile.

He texted me before I barely even had a chance
to get my coat off.

You seem surprised that I like poetry. What you
must think of me… I'm not a Neanderthal, Kate. Write up an agreement between
us. Whatever you want. Include as much detail as you feel is necessary. I'll
honor it to the letter. Your father would be only too pleased if we were to
date and that can be our cover.

At least
he
thinks I'm a decent sort…

I texted him back a single line.

Imagine how surprised
he'd be to find out how wrong he is…

That would hurt and I knew I was being a bitch,
but I couldn't help but respond that way to his faux injured tone…

Ouch
…

I smiled, but a part of me felt bad. He seemed
to really like my father.

After I got into my pajamas, I called Lara to
ask her for more details about Drake.

"You won't believe it. Drake was at my father's
fundraising dinner tonight."

"He told me he's friends with your
father."

"Still, you'd think he could just let this
drop, considering how much it upset me. He didn't. He pushed things."

"He's a natural Dom, Kate. He knows what he
wants and he does what it takes to get it."

I sighed. "Should I do this?"

"You have to be the one to decide. But know
this. Dominants, even the ones into pain, are serious about recognizing and
respecting their sub's limits. It's a source of pride for us to know what a sub
needs and how far to push to enhance their experience. It's what drives us
– having that control and responsibility and giving a sub what they need
through satisfying our own needs."

I said nothing, letting that sink in a bit.

"Kate, a vanilla man will never give you
what you really need and you'll end up feeling unloved and insecure, unable to
respond the way you could with a Dom. A vanilla woman can't give a Dom what he
needs. He feels as if he can't be himself during sex, frustrated that he can't
take control, make things right –
better
. Doms and subs. We need
each other. It's beautiful when it works out."

"It all sounds so nice but can I trust
him?"

"You can trust him. Kate, I've known him
for
years
."

Much later, as I sat at my desk revising the
document I was drafting, I composed an email with the agreement as an
attachment.  I'd just had a warm bath and was still wet, wrapped in a
towel.

I held my finger over the mouse, the little hand
hovering over the send button. Then, I pressed send. Immediately, I checked my
sent folder and re-read it, biting my nail as I worried I had just made a huge
mistake.

From:
               
McDermott, Katherine M. 

Sent:    
               
November 07, 11:31 PM

To:       
               
Morgan, D. L.

Subject:             
The Agreement

Attachments:  The
Agreement.doc (50 KB)

Drake: I've attached the
agreement for you to review and agree to.

Please don't push any of
my limits. I know it’s in your nature to do just that.

If you do,
I'm gone.

Seriously.

Kate

I open the documented and re-read the terms,
worried he was going to try to seduce me.

Agreement
for Research Services

between

Katherine
Marie McDermott (Researcher)

and

Drake
Liam Morgan (Informant)

This Agreement is made and entered into by and
between Katherine M. McDermott "Researcher" and Drake L. Morgan
"Informant".

PURPOSE

The purpose of this agreement is to conduct research for an
investigative journalism article on BDSM, herein referred to as 'The
Lifestyle'.