Trust (24 page)

The next day seemed to drag. Every time I looked at the clock, barely any time had passed. By five o’clock I was practically bouncing in my seat like an anxious toddler. It was shocking, the level of effect Brianna had over me, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

When I arrived home, Sarah was in the kitchen making something on the stove. She took one look at me and smiled a knowing smile. “I got home a little early today, so I made some soup. Nothing fancy, but I figured it was better than takeout.”

I wasn’t all that concerned with food, but I didn’t want to be rude. “Smells good. Do you need any help?”

She shook her head. “Nah. I got this. I was just going to chop up the rest of the chicken and make us some sandwiches to go with it. Did you want one or two?”

“One’s fine. Thank you.” I wasn’t even sure I could force one down my throat. It wasn’t that Sarah was a horrible cook. She was decent—better than I remembered her being—but the last thing I wanted to do was eat. I knew I had to be patient, though. Brianna needed to eat dinner as well, so logging on to Skype early was only going to either pull her away from her meal or be a long, drawn-out frustration.

After changing into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I rejoined Sarah in the kitchen and helped her set the table. We worked silently for the most part—her smirks and barely stifled giggles providing the bulk of the communication.

Sarah was halfway through her dinner when she spoke. “Are you planning to talk to her tonight?”

“Yes.”

She chuckled. “I figured. You have a nervous energy about you.”

I nodded. It was true. There was no reason for me to deny it. Although Brianna said she wanted to be with me, we’d never discussed the nuts and bolts of her being my submissive before. In the past, things had just sort of evolved. I knew we could go back to that, but I wanted her to have some structure—know what to expect. She’d had too many unknowns in her life already. I didn’t want our relationship to be one of them.

“I’m sure she’s just as excited to talk to you. I mean, she did set up a secret meeting with you at the hotel, right? That has to mean something.”

Suddenly having enough of my food, I pushed it slightly away from me and leaned back in my chair. Sarah was trying to help, but I didn’t want to discuss my relationship with Brianna right now. “Oscar sent me an e-mail today. He has a realtor looking at properties around the city that can be leased on a month-by-month basis. According to the realtor, he should have some properties for you to look at by the weekend.”

Sarah sighed and laid her spoon beside her bowl. “I don’t understand why you are being so insistent about this, Stephan. I can just go back to the hotel.”

“No. Sarah, you’re five months’ pregnant. You need somewhere you can live, relax . . . a place you can make feel like your home, even if it is temporary. A stark hotel room that has nothing more than a bed, dresser, television, and a bathroom isn’t good enough.”

She shook her head. “Still so overprotective. I’m not your sub anymore, remember?”

“No, but you
are
my friend. I’m not letting you live in some crappy hotel while you’re here. If you can’t stay here, then finding you an apartment is the least I can do.”

Silence greeted my declaration. She stared at me, eyes narrowed, for several seconds. “Fine. If it makes you happy, then fine. But what if I decide to leave in a week or two? What then?”

“Then nothing. After that month’s lease is up, it will be rented to someone else. Easy as that.” I stood and took my dishes into the kitchen.

Sarah was still sitting there when I returned to the table. “You’re determined to do this, aren’t you?

“Yes. I am.”

She shook her head and picked up her spoon again. “Go call your girl and leave me in peace.”

Sarah winked, and I laughed.

“I can still spank you, you know,” I said as I strolled toward my bedroom.

She chuckled. “That would be interesting with my belly now wouldn’t it?”

I turned right outside my door and glanced down at her growing midsection. We were both smiling. “That it would.”

When I logged on to Skype a few minutes later, I noticed Brianna was already online.

Good evening, sweetheart.

A minute later, a response came back.

Good evening, Sir.

Are you ready to talk?

Yes.

Needing to both see and hear her, I pressed the video call button and waited for her to answer. Only seconds passed before her beautiful face popped up on my screen.

I smiled. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

“How are you? Did you have a good day today?”

She nodded. “I spent most of the day reading . . . and working on my questions.”

“That’s good. I’m anxious to hear what you’ve come up with.”

Brianna looked down, and I could see the uncertainty cross her features. This was so much harder when she wasn’t in my arms, where I could feel every movement and response. “It was . . . hard. I don’t know what to ask.”

“What do you want to ask? There have to be things you’ve been wondering. Let’s start there.”

“Okay.” She sighed and lowered her gaze again. “Will you beat me?”

I’d told her to ask anything, but I hadn’t expected her to begin with such a loaded question. “Be more specific, Brianna.”

She swallowed and looked back up at me. “Will you hit me?”

“I would never punch you, no, but I would like to spank you.”

Her eyes went wide, and her voice lowered to almost a whisper. “Why would you want to spank me?”

“It’s something I enjoy. I’d at least like to try it with you. We don’t have to do that right away, but at some point I’d like to spank you and see what you think of it. Who knows, you may like it. Spankings, when done right, can be quite erotic.”

I saw the doubt in her eyes, mixed with some fear.

“Brianna, have I ever forced you to do something you didn’t want to do?”

“No.”

“What about when I’ve punished you? Was it ever something so horrible or outrageous that you couldn’t handle it?”

She shook her head. “No, Sir. Your punishments have always been fair.”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, reluctant to go where I knew I must. Meeting her gaze, I brought up the one subject I would have liked to avoid. “I’m not him, Brianna. I will never be him.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, showing her distress.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. Look at me and stay here with me.”

Brianna’s gaze met mine, and I watched as her breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Good girl. Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

The ache in my chest multiplied, and my next question came out much softer than I’d intended. “Do you think I would stop doing something if you hated it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Brianna, I want you to understand that what I want is a relationship with you. Yes, there are times when I will be in charge and I will expect you to do as I say, but you will always have your safewords, and I would never do anything to you that would break your trust in me.”

“Okay.”

“What else?”

She pressed her lips together, so I knew she was nervous about whatever it was she was going to ask. “What would you expect me to do? Would you . . . use me?”

I couldn’t stop my smile. “I’d like to play with you, yes. I’d like to do all sorts of kinky things with you. I know when you say ‘use’ you are thinking all sorts of negative things—I can see it by the look on your face. It doesn’t have to be. You enjoy it when I hold you down, when I have my way with you. I’m using you for my pleasure then, Brianna, and you find pleasure in it as well, don’t you?”

Brianna nodded.

“As for what I’d expect you to do, I’ve been thinking about this, and I want to see how you feel first. In the past, I’ve kept my lifestyle confined to the weekends. I’m not sure that would work with us.”

She scrunched up her nose, and I realized she didn’t understand where I was going with this. I needed to be clearer.

“You know how you call me Sir all the time? You rarely call me Stephan. In fact, I do believe you’ve only called me by name once, and only at my insistence.”

I smiled at her to let her know I wasn’t upset about it.

“It doesn’t feel . . . right.”

I nodded. “I know. But this is what I mean. Typically, in a weekend-only arrangement, we would be a normal couple during the week. You’d call me by my given name just like everyone else does. Then on the weekend, during playtime, you’d call me Sir.” I paused. “Or Master.”

“You want me to call you by your name?” She looked nervous. More nervous than she had been when she asked if I would beat her.

“I may from time to time, yes, but that brings me to my point. You aren’t comfortable with it. You like calling me Sir.” I waited until I was sure she was looking at me. “And I like it, too. So I think a twenty-four-seven agreement would better suit us.”

“What does that mean—twenty-four-seven?”

“It means that you would always act as my submissive. You would always defer to me, and ask my permission for certain things. It wouldn’t be much different from now. Or should I say, it wouldn’t be much different than when you were living with me. Is that what you want?”

“I think so.”

This was so hard. I wanted to hold her. “But you’re not sure?”

“It’s just . . . what if I don’t get better? What if I can’t do the things you want to do?”

I saw exactly where her mind was drifting to. “Brianna, I explained about Logan and Lily. That won’t happen again. Anything new we want to try, we will talk about it and then try it. Just us. No one else.”

“Okay.”

I waited. “Did you have any more questions for me?”

“No. It was really difficult to come up with questions. I don’t know what to ask.”

“That’s all right. I’m sure you’ll think of more as time goes by. But Brianna, I need to know if you want to move forward with this . . . with us. This doesn’t have to be an all or nothing deal. We’ll talk things through always, but I think you’d do well with some rules, and they would make me feel better as well.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t surprised to see her relax her shoulders some at my suggestion. Brianna needed rules. She craved the safety and structure rules gave her.

“First, I want you to start keeping a journal again. I want you to write down what you did that day, how you felt, and any questions that come to your mind. And since we’re apart for now, I want you to do your journaling in an e-mail to me. This way I know what’s going through that mind of yours. Second, I want you to make sure you are eating three meals every day. Do you have any problem with those rules?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good. ’Cause I have one more for now. I’ve gotten the impression that you’ve stopped cooking, is that correct?”

“Yes.” She paused, and I waited. “Jade or Cal usually make something, or they order takeout.”

I nodded. “Since it’s Cal’s home, you’ll need to talk to him first, but I want you to start cooking again. I know how much you enjoy being in the kitchen, and I think it will help relax you. Tomorrow you will ask if it’s okay for you to start cooking dinner on the nights you’re home.”

She swallowed but nodded in agreement.

Softening my tone, I reached out toward the screen. She was so close, yet so far away. “I love you, Brianna. We’ll figure this out.”

“I love you, too.”

Glancing over at the clock, I frowned. It was later than I’d hoped. I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet, though. “Tell me about this therapist of yours. I did some research on her. She seems . . . knowledgeable.”

We spent the next twenty minutes talking about her visits to Dr. Perkins. I was still leery of Brianna seeing a psychiatrist, but I was attempting to hold my tongue. I didn’t want Brianna to get hurt. She needed help and support, not judgment and ridicule.

So far, Brianna seemed to like Dr. Perkins well enough, although she admitted she was nervous about sharing our relationship. I understood her reluctance. Kink wasn’t something all mental health professionals understood. There were those who were what they called “kink friendly,” but in the grand scheme of things, they were few and far between. I only hoped this Dr. Perkins had an open mind. For now, I’d bide my time and wait. If she hurt Brianna, however, all bets were off.

Chapter 22

Brianna

The next morning I slowly crept out of my bedroom to join Cal and Jade
for breakfast. It wasn’t something I normally did, so they both were suspicious.

I didn’t say anything until after I’d sat down with my bowl of cereal in front of me. “Cal?”

He paused with his spoon hovering in midair. “Yes, Anna?”

Swallowing, even though I had yet to take a bite of my breakfast, I looked down at my bowl as I spoke. “May I start cooking dinner?”

At first, he didn’t say anything, and I began to get nervous.