The Art of Submission (30 page)

“You
really
need to let me take you home and I’m not
asking.”

He can be so bossy and I can’t help but be
turned on by his determination. He takes me by my hand and leads me
towards the garage.

What? He has another car? Why am I not
surprised. “Another car? How many do you have?” I ask him.

“I only have five. A couple of them classics
so I don’t really drive them.” He says very plainly.

Gee,
only
five? Oh brother. This man is a hoot.
What’s the point of owning two cars that you don’t even drive? The
look on his face is comical since I’m the one laughing at him for a
change.

Once we leave and I get a look at our
surroundings, I realize he’s not taking me home. I ask him where
we’re going; trying to figure out what he has up his sleeve.

“My place. I want to show you something.” He
says without looking at me.

Good something or bad something? The last
time he wanted to show me the club, which turned out to be a little
of both, though more good than bad.

“I thought maybe we could pick up some take
out and eat at my place.”

How polite of him considering how mysterious
he’s being. I suppose that wouldn’t be so bad. I can see where he
lives and perhaps we can actually talk for a change. I nod to him
and he seems satisfied. He’s staring out at the road and I wonder
what he’s thinking about. About the contract, I’m sure. I just know
whatever he wants to show me has something to do with that. He
wants me to be his submissive and it all comes back to that damned
contract, doesn’t it? Out of the clear blue, he stuns me with an
odd question.

“
So why are you on birth control
Isabel?”

His tone is calm and I think that’s
what surprises me the most. Why is he asking me about this? He
smiles at me and that just adds to my confusion about his curiosity
about this subject. How do I tell him?
What
do I tell him? I’ll make it simple; I have
female issues. That should suffice.

The look on his face almost makes me laugh
out loud. He seems confounded and then says, “I thought all females
had issues?”

He’s such a typical man sometimes. Not
often – but sometimes. I’m proud of my quick-witted response: “The
only issues females have are
men
.”

“Is that what you have, Isabel, men issues?”
He asks with a raised eyebrow.

Uh… no. That’s not what I meant. I mean
seriously, the only men issues I have are attracting the wrong
types. Did I just say that out loud? I did.
Damn it, Isa
. He looks hurt. Oh hell, this is
coming out all wrong. I didn’t mean it like that. I try my best to
tell him that I’m on birth control because of my jacked up monthly
cycle.
How embarrassing
. Of
course, I let a little more slip than I should have.
Damn me and my big mouth
.

“
Because of what, sweetheart?” He asked
concerned.

Oh my heart and insides just melt when he
calls me that. I wonder if that’s just a general term he uses for
all females. I hope not. Anyway, why must he keep asking about
this? It’s personal. Things happened. That’s all. I don’t want to
go into it with him. If he knew about my past and all my issues,
he’d run for the hills. I know he thinks I’m on birth control
because I sleep around, so I try and reassure him that’s not the
reason. He just needs to stop prying.

“
Did someone hurt you?”

What? Why did he ask me that?
Oh my God
. How does he do that? Is
he telepathic?
Stay calm, Isa.
“I’m okay. I’m okay now.
I’m
fine
.” I say to him, trying more to reassure myself
than him.

I just want to run and hide, and by chance we
arrive at Paisley Burgers before he can ask me any more. I open the
door to try and escape his gaze, but he reaches across me and pulls
the door closed. He’s leaning across me, touching me, and I can
feel his eyes on me.

“Look at me, Isabel.” He demands
politely.

What does he want from me? Why oh why did I
have to open my big mouth?

“It’s not what you think, Dylan. It
wasn’t something… you know…
sexual
that happened. It was my… I’m fine now.
I’m fine
. It was a long time ago.” I don’t want
to go into this with him.
Please… let it
go
…and he does. Thank you. Then he bowls me over with
a kiss and it feels like heaven. His mouth on mine, his tongue
caressing my tongue. I feel him pull away all too quickly –
no, don’t stop
. He kisses me again
and it’s even more intense than before.
Yes – don’t stop
. I can’t resist him and I take
his head into my hands and kiss him all over his entire beautiful
face. I remember how he hesitated when I hugged him, so I stop and
immediately get out of the car before he can rebuff me again. I
make my way towards the restaurant and notice that Dylan is taking
his time in the car, but he finally catches up with me a moment
later.

Inside the restaurant, we order our burgers
and stand and wait. It was polite of him to bring me here. Again,
this man must be inside my head or how else did he know I love
Argyll burgers? Maybe it’s something we have in common. I wonder
what other things we have in common. As I’m deep in thought, he
reaches over and touches me and I feel the current of his touch. I
wonder where this mysterious man lives. Perhaps in a high-end
suburb like Castle Pines or Castle Rock, or some other place with a
royal name. I ask him.

“
Sky Lofts, not too far from where I
work.”

He’s single and has no children, so of course
he would live in a ritzy condo with a view to die for. I’ve seen
that building and it has young good-looking entrepreneur written
all over it.

“Yes, I’ve seen that building.” I manage to
say politely. “Do you like it there?” Like I don’t know the answer
to that. Who wouldn’t?

“Yes, it’s fine. I spend a lot of time
working, so I don’t spend much time there, but hopefully that will
change soon, depending on how things go.”

Oh? Depending on what I wonder.

“Depending on what you decide about the
contract, Isabel.”
He says with a Machiavellian
tone.

Oh, I see what he means now. I try my best
not to reveal anything. Again – it comes down to his damned absurd
contract.

Finally with our food in hand, we head back
to his place. The drive is a quiet one and I’m thankful for it. I
don’t want any more personal questions or any more opportunities
for me to put my foot in my mouth. Dylan looks deep in thought and
I’m curious as to what he’s thinking about. His contract, I’m
sure.

I still can’t believe the way I reacted
earlier to the spanking he gave me.
How
dare he
… no. I don’t want to go there again. Anyway, I
did enjoy it somewhat and I’m still confused about that. The way I
took control, though. That was intense, to say the least. I know
he’s a dominant, but I wonder if he’s ever allowed any of his other
women do to that to him. Dylan with other women; no, I don’t like
to think about that. Dylan doing sexual things with other women –
using them as his submissive – I especially don’t like the thought
of that.
Dylan as a submissive – now that
thought I like.
He looked so delicious bound, naked
and begging me.
Yes… that was very
nice.
As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind doing that
again, though under different circumstances and not out of anger or
retribution.

Once we arrive at Sky Lofts, he parks
in the underground garage and we head towards the elevator. There
are several very nice vehicles parked throughout, including the
same Mercedes he drove on Sunday. I look over at him and as he
walks confidently towards the elevator. He looks so hot in his
business attire.
Of course, he looks even
hotter out of it.

As the elevator doors close, it jerks a
bit catching me by surprise and I grab onto Dylan for support. To
my delight, he doesn’t resist. His arms are so strong. I wish he
were mine to hold anytime I felt like.
Stop, Isa.
Think –
business arrangement.

When we get to his doorway, he clumsily
fiddles with his keys. It’s so unlike him to be like this. Is he
nervous? Then he opens the door and -
Holy
square footage
– it’s so big. I’m standing inside a
12
^th
floor penthouse. It’s
very modern with laminate flooring, concrete walls, and track
lighting. There are large windows that showcase the most amazing
view of Denver that I’ve ever seen. One of the walls of windows
opens onto a long balcony. His furniture is understated and cozy
and the colors are deep grays and earth tones. It’s absolutely
gorgeous. The thing that stands out the most though, are the
various paintings and artwork scattered throughout. The images are
stunning. I recognize a few of the paintings and I move close to
examine them.
Oh my God - they’re
originals.
This is serious money right here. And he
doesn’t spend much time here? If I lived here, I’d never want to
leave.

“Wow. It’s so… big.” I say, unable to hide my
awe at the enormity of his home.

“
That’s what she said.”

No he didn’t. Seriously? What are we in
junior high? He’s so cute. “So you’re good looking, well off and
funny, too?” I ask him sarcastically.

“The well off and funny are true, the good
looking, not so much.” He says wryly.

Oh brother. Like he doesn’t know he’s good
looking? Please. I’m not falling for that one. I’m not completely
gullible. He is very endearing when he’s trying to be funny,
though.

Dylan motions me out to the balcony. It’s
lovely out here. There’s comfortable patio furniture that’s facing
a decorative metal railing and the view out here is spectacular.
The sun is just starting to go down and the muted blues, oranges
and pinks are stunning. He sits down and I pull a chair up right
next him. I’m feeling very romantic all of a sudden and it must be
because of his buying me dinner, bringing me to his home, and
allowing me to share in this wonderful setting. It’s unlike
anything I’ve experienced. He starts to get his food out and I feel
I owe it to him to thank him in some sort of way, so get his food
ready for him.

“
Isabel, please don’t do that. I don’t
deserve your kindness, not with the things I want to do to you.” He
says softly and almost embarrassed.

The things he wants to do to me? Like
what kind of things? Does he really think he doesn’t deserve
kindness? Oh, Dylan. My heart aches to hear him say that. “Dylan,
everyone deserves kindness. Even those who are cruel.
Especially those who are cruel
…” I
hear myself saying it and a realization hits me; yes, my father
deserves kindness, too, despite what he’s done to me.

I have to clarify myself to Dylan before he
thinks I meant that he was cruel, “I didn’t mean to say that you’re
cruel, I mean, I hope you’re not.” I hope he’s not, because I don’t
think I can handle being with one more cruel man.

The look on his face is upsetting. Was it
something that I said or did? Surely not because I tried to be kind
to him? He’s not saying anything and it’s unnerving. I can’t stand
this silence. “Dylan, what’s wrong?” I ask him hoping he’ll open up
to me.

“Stay out of my head right now, Isabel.”

I guess that was wishful thinking. He sounds
troubled about something. Maybe he’s decided he doesn’t want to be
with me after all. That would make sense, I mean, I can’t figure
out why he ever wanted to be with me in the first place. And what
does he mean stay out of his head? He’s the one who’s in my head.
When his eyes finally meet mine, he looks less upset than he was
before and his eyes soften a bit. What was that about?

We finish eating quietly, neither of saying
anything more. When we’re finished, he leads me back inside.

“
I want to show you the reason I
brought you here.”

He sounds excited and anxious like a
child. It warms my blood to see him like this. I nod and he takes
my hand. Oh – this is nice. I like holding his hand. It’s so
strong. It seems like such a simple thing to do, but it’s so
personal and special.
I like this very
much
. We walk down a hallway a short distance and
enter what looks to be his office. The room is large with an
enormous rug in the center of the room. There’s an oversized dark
wood desk with a high-back leather chair behind it at one end of
the room and just in front of a large window. At the other end of
the room there’s a matching leather couch. There are several
paintings on the walls in here, too, from artists I’m not familiar
with, but the images are nonetheless gorgeous. He really does have
excellent taste in art, not withstanding mine, of
course.

He grabs a key from his desk and leads back
out and down the hallway a little further. There’s a padlocked door
and I assume that’s what the key is for. He slowly unlocks the door
and I’m staring at him in anticipation. What’s behind the door?
Just when I think I can’t take the suspense anymore, he squeezes my
hand and leads me into the mysterious room.