Dom X - The Complete Box Set: Alpha Male Romance (15 page)

I
t was going better
than I'd anticipated. When I first come into the living room and seen X standing at the window, I had a moment of pure panic where I was sure this had been the worst decision I'd ever made.

Then I saw the way his eyes lit up for a split second, and I knew I was right. If anything was going to work, it was this.

I just had to remind myself of the rules first.

Once I finished giving X the run-down of the details he'd need to know, as well as the limits we were setting for the interactions between us, I asked if he had any questions.

“Are there any other terms I need to know?”

I almost frowned, but it wasn't because of how matter-of-fact his tone was. It was because I just now noticed that he wasn't looking at me. We might need to discuss eye contact at some point, but right now, I didn't mind much. It made it easier to remember that this wasn't a real thing.

“I can't think of any,” I said. “But if I say anything you don't understand, ask. That's part of the trust factor. You have to know that the person you're with isn't going to do something that could hurt themselves, or you. So if there's ever any doubt, ask.”

He nodded. “What about any of the...?”

I caught a hint of a blush.

“The stuff that couples use.” He finished his sentence. “I mean, I know the stuff like handcuffs and ropes and stuff like that, but how am I supposed to know a hard or soft limit if I don't know what something is?”

The fact that he was looking toward having a time when he would need to know those things told me we were already off to a good start. I ignored the twist of my stomach at the thought of him looking toward that with someone else. I had no right to think about him like that.

“If it comes up, we'll discuss it,” I said. “But a lot of those sorts of terms – like the difference between a flogger and a crop – you can look up.”

“Yeah, that'll be something to explain to the father if he gets on my computer,” X muttered.

A laugh burst out of me, almost as much from surprise as actual humor, though the image was amusing enough. “Just remember to erase your history and cookies.”

He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously telling me how to hide that I've been looking at porn?”

I laughed again. I didn't know what prompted this side of him to begin to emerge, but whatever it was, I hoped we could keep it going. “Let's just say that I had a fairly nosy roommate the first year Tanner and I were together.”

This time, he laughed and my stomach clenched at the sound. I'd never heard it before, but I definitely wanted to hear it again.

“Can I ask something a bit more personal?” He looked away from me again.

“More personal than us discussing porn?” I asked wryly. “Go for it.”

“What does your boyfriend think of all this?”

Okay, not the question I thought he'd ask, but a legitimate one, I had to admit. “Ex,” I reminded him. “Ex-boyfriend. Tanner and I broke up shortly before I left Philadelphia.”

Before I could read too much into his question, or give him time to ask another one, I stood.

“Tonight is going to be about you.” My carefully prepared speech ran through my head. I knew that I'd need to plan something or I'd lose myself in the moment. “To be a good Dom, you need to know yourself.”

He leaned forward slightly, his fingers laced together in front of him. It was the first time I'd seen him touching any of his scar tissue without any outward sign of self-consciousness. He didn't even seem to realize he was doing it, and I hoped that meant he was already beginning to become comfortable with his body.

I continued, “This means knowing more than just what positions you enjoy.”

I tried very hard not to think about the different ways I could have sex with X.

Him on top of me, traditional missionary, my legs around his waist.

Me on top of him, riding him as I looked down, my nails digging into the hard muscle of his chest.

Me on all fours with him kneeling behind me, hands on my hips as he pounded into me from behind.

Fuck. This was going to be harder than I thought.

I kept going, grateful that X couldn't see what I was thinking. “You need to know what your own hard and soft limits are, and not just for sexual acts. You need to know how much touching you want to allow. How much eye contact.” I forced my eyes to meet his. “Some Doms never want their Subs to look them in the eye. You need to know how much you’re comfortable with.”

He stood, the move more graceful than it was earlier this week. I could only imagine how he'd moved before the accident.

“Did Tanner let you look at him?”

I supposed I should've seen that coming. After all, I was the one who used my relationship with Tanner as an example.

“It depended on the situation,” I answered honestly. “Some people need the Dom / Sub relationship to be on all the time. Inside the bedroom, outside the bedroom. Every time they have sex. That's something else you'll need to decide. How much this is going to become a part of your life.”

“So it didn't cross into your real life?” X asked.

This was starting to get to be too much about me and not enough about him and his decisions. But my own experiences with Tanner were all I had to rely on, which meant I didn't have much of a choice when it came to answering his questions, not if I wanted this to work.

“No,” I said. “Giving over control to Tanner was my escape from real life. When things got to be too much, with my family or work or whatever, I always knew I could go to him and not have to worry about anything, for a while anyway.”

Dammit. I hadn't meant to say quite so much. This wasn't supposed to get that personal.

“It's about you,” I said. “What you need.”

“But I thought a Dom was supposed to focus on what his or her Sub needs.”

At least he was paying attention.

“Not at the expense of themselves,” I explained. “You have to discover what you need, and then find a Sub whose needs match your own. You complement each other.”

“And that's what happened with you and him?”

I nodded. “It is.”

I could still remember the first time Tanner told me what he was, what he thought I could be. It'd been awkward, of course, but underneath all of that had been something else. Something that it'd taken me a while to identify, and even longer to admit.

Relief.

Relief that I wasn't the only one who had that part inside, that hidden place that harbored desires that we felt others wouldn't understand. I hadn't needed to be ashamed of what I felt, what I wanted, anymore.

“Tanner and I met when I was in college,” I spoke without realizing I was going to. “I told you before that about six months after we started dating, he told me that if we were going to be taking things seriously, there was something he had to discuss with me. He started by saying he'd seen something in me, and he was right.”

“Is that what happened with me?” X's voice was low. “Did you see something in me?”

Shit. This wasn’t going the way I thought it would. I needed to get things back on track before we became too entangled to be able to keep things clear between us.

But still...

“Yes,” I answered simply and truthfully. “I saw something in you. I
see
something in you.”

He took a step toward me and I had to fight to keep from backing up. Things were quickly spiraling down a path I knew we couldn't take. I needed to do something to get us away from where we were and on to where we needed to be.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I dropped to my knees and ducked my head, my hands behind my back.

“This is the position most Subs assume while waiting for their Dom to begin.” My pulse was racing. “Unless it's something you've discussed with your Sub, she'll assume this or a similar position, and wait for your permission to speak or move.”

“Permission?” His voice was hoarse, and I wondered what he was thinking.

“Tonight, we'll focus on permission to touch.” I didn't look up, but I did allow myself a quirk of a smile. “It doesn't make much sense to wait for permission to talk when I have to explain things but know that's always a choice you have. What she can say, what she can't. Even if she can make any noise at all.”

My stomach clenched at the memories of the times Tanner had restricted my sound and speech, sometimes with a gag, sometimes relying on my own control. The punishments that had come when I failed had been just as delicious.

There was a long minute of silence and then X spoke. “Stand up.”

There was no hesitation in his voice, and while I knew that confidence would probably wane a bit in a few minutes, at that moment, I knew I was right. He was a Dom.

I stood, but kept my head down, wanting to see what he'd do next.

“Look at me.”

When I raised my head, he was looking down at me, his eyes dark as they slid down my body. I shivered, unable to stop myself. I could almost feel his gaze, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like when he finally touched me.

I shoved the thought aside. He would touch me, but not like that.

He gestured toward the tie of my dress. “Untie it.”

I swallowed hard. I'd worn this with the expectation that he would have me take it off. My underwear and bra were simple white cotton for that exact reason. They covered more of me than a bikini would've, which was precisely why I'd chosen them. It wasn't quite the same as wearing a bathing suit, but close enough for me not to be completely embarrassed.

I untied the belt and let my dress fall open. This, I knew, was part of what he needed, to see that if a Sub went with him, she would do whatever he asked within the parameters they set. He needed to know that he was desirable enough for a woman to take off her clothes for him.

Not that I thought of him like that.

No matter what my treacherous body was saying as heat ran through it.

His eyes ran over me and I struggled to stay still. I didn't look at his face, not wanting to see whatever it was he was feeling. If I saw desire there or even pure lust, I wasn't sure what I'd do. But I also knew myself well enough to know that I didn't want to see nothing. I wanted, at least, admiration from him. I was shallow enough to admit that.

I waited, then, for him to tell me what to do next.

“How...what...” He scowled and shoved his hand into his hair. “Dammit!”

He turned away or started to.

I was going to lose him. I knew that, if he left now, if he stopped this, he'd never do it again. He'd see this as another weakness.

I reached out and grabbed his right wrist. He stopped, his eyes going to my face.

“I thought you weren't supposed to touch me without permission.”

I instantly let go, the submissive part of me automatically responding to his tone as much as his words. I saw a flash of surprise, and then another flash of something else. He reached out and took my hand. With our eyes locked together, he raised my hand to his face.

Heat rushed down my fingers as soon as they came in contact with his cheek. I'd touched him before, of course, and in much more intimate ways than this. Or, at least in much more intimate places. Somehow, though, spreading my palm on X's uninjured cheek felt like...more.

“When I want you to touch me, I'll tell you,” he said quietly. “Or show you.”

I nodded, mutely.

“Never touch my left side.”

Emotion made his voice thick, but I didn't respond. I knew he wouldn't want me to. He would see my compassion as pity, and I never wanted him to think that I pitied him.

“I'll do the touching.”

My stomach lurched in anticipation as if he was actually going to do what he said. He wouldn't though. Not a real touch.

It didn't matter. We'd accomplished part of what I'd wanted. He now knew how he felt about being touched, and wouldn't have to suffer the embarrassment of snapping at a Sub for something she couldn't know.

All of this went through my mind in a matter of seconds, my hand still on his cheek.

Then he was moving toward me, and before I realized what he intended to do, his mouth was coming down on mine.

I
should've run
the moment I felt things between us starting to shift.

I should've not even acted on this crazy idea to begin with.

I should've shoved him away and run.

All of these thoughts and more flashed through my head, rapid-fire, in the split second between realizing that X intended to kiss me, and when his lips actually touched mine.

Then he was kissing me and any attempt at reasonable thinking went out the window.

I'd had good kisses, and I'd had bad kisses. The sort that curled my toes, and the kind that made me never want to see the person again. Tanner had been a great kisser, always knowing the right amount of pressure, when to open my mouth, and whether or not I wanted tongue. He'd been sure of himself and his abilities, but even when he was dominating me, there was always the sense of restraint.

There was no such restraint with X.

His mouth was hard, demanding against mine. Hungry. I couldn't think of another word to describe it as his teeth scraped across my bottom lip. I gasped and his tongue slid into my mouth. The hand I had on his cheek was now in his hair, fingers curling into the silky strands. When my nails scratched his scalp, he made a sound in the back of his throat. An almost desperate, needy sound.

In the years I'd been with Tanner, I'd never heard him make that noise. No man I'd ever been with had made that sound. Like I was everything, the only thing that mattered.

It was that thought that jerked me back to reality.

Rather than pushing him away, I stepped back, breaking the kiss. Heat flooded my face and I quickly pulled my dress together, covering myself. I didn't say a word – not an apology or a condemnation – as I fled.

He didn't say anything either, and I was grateful for that as I made my way down the hallway. No calling after me, no chasing. I climbed the stairs as quickly as I could, grateful that I wouldn’t have to deal with him on top of my own chaotic emotions.

And chaos really was the only way to describe what I was feeling. So many conflicting feelings about what just happened. Shock. Horror. Shame.

Arousal.

And that brought about even more shame because I knew, while it'd been wrong for him to kiss me, it was even worse that I’d let him. I was trying to teach him to be a Dom, but I was truly the one in charge.

Or at least, I should've been.

I closed my bedroom door behind me and locked it. X wouldn't come barging in here, but I did it anyway. It felt more like I was locking myself in rather than him out. Because I was the one who failed. Father O'Toole brought me here to make X better, not to kiss him.

Okay, so technically, I wasn’t the one who'd initiated the kiss, but I sure as hell hadn't stopped it right away. A few seconds I could write off as shock, but it'd lasted beyond that. And I had absolutely no excuse.

My stomach churned as I sank to the floor, my back against the door. I closed my eyes, pulling my knees up so that I could rest my forehead on them.

I was far from perfect, but I'd never fucked up as badly as I had just now. I didn't have anyone to blame but myself either. It'd been my crazy idea that had gotten me into this mess. If I'd kept things entirely professional, this never would've happened. I should have just focused on taking care of things like I was supposed to. Cleaning the house, making meals, changing his bandages. Maybe being there for him if he ever decided that he needed to talk.

What happened between us destroyed any trust we'd had. He'd never come to me with anything personal after I'd rejected him. It didn't matter that I'd given him boundaries. I'd known I was walking on thin ice the moment I accepted the priest's job offer, because even then, I'd been too involved.

My chest hurt as I struggled to breathe. If X did something to hurt himself it'd be all my fault. Just like Logan had been my fault.

I didn't like to think about the months between Logan's return from overseas and his suicide, but it wasn't just because of how different he'd been. It was because I'd sensed that something was wrong and hadn't done anything about it.

That was the secret I'd held on to all these years. I told Tanner and X both about Logan's death, how I'd found the body. I'd shared other personal things with Tanner too, but I'd never told him that I blamed myself for Logan's death because I knew what he'd say. That it wasn’t my fault. I'd been a teenager. I couldn't have known.

Except a part of me had, and that was what killed me. Logan and I had been close before he'd enlisted. I'd known him better than I'd known myself. So, when he'd come home, I'd felt the loss of who he'd been more keenly than my parents had. I'd tried talking to him, tried to make him laugh and care about living. Care about me.

But he hadn't. He'd sunk deeper and deeper into depression, and I'd been helpless to do anything. Or so I'd told myself. But I could've done something. I might not have been able to help him directly, but I could have gone to our parents. He'd sworn me to secrecy the night I caught him in a suicide chat room. He told me that he'd just wanted to talk to people who understood and that if I told our parents, they'd put him into the hospital and I'd never see him.

I hadn't been an adult then, but I hadn't been a child either. On some level, I knew he was emotionally manipulating me, but I'd accepted it and kept my mouth shut.

That was my biggest fear with X, the thing that had driven me to extreme measures to try to help him. I hadn't wanted another body on my conscience. I hadn't wanted to stand around, doing nothing, while someone I cared about killed themselves.

Now I was afraid I'd only made things worse, and I didn't know how to fix it. Or even if I could.

I had no idea what I was supposed to do now. Should I go back downstairs and apologize for my reaction, but still stay firm in the fact that he shouldn't have kissed me? I couldn't be too harsh about it since I'd kissed him back. It wasn't like I could act all indignant or anything, not when my lips were still tingling, not when I could still feel the ghost of his mouth on mine.

How had things gotten so complicated so fast? I'd been here less than two weeks. The two weeks I'd promised to Father O'Toole. Was that some sort of sign? A way of some higher power letting me know that I needed to tell the priest that when the week was up, I was going home?

Despite what happened, I didn't want to leave. Part of it was fear of what X would do if I took my rejection of him so far as to actually move back to Texas, but another part – though I wasn't quite ready to admit how much – didn't want to leave him because I cared about him. Not just his physical well-being, but all of him. Over the past week, even though I’d performed some nursing duties, I'd felt less and less like his nurse, and more like a friend.

It wasn't an excuse for letting the lines between us blur, but it was a reason. I doubted it was one my job back home would've understood. That was another thing, if I told Father O'Toole that I wanted to leave, he might ask why. Even if he didn't, returning to my job at the medical center would probably prompt questions. I could be vague and say that it wasn't a good fit, but I couldn't know for certain that they wouldn't call X. And I had no way of knowing if X would protect me...or throw me under the bus.

What I did know was that sitting here and obsessing over it wouldn’t help at all.

I pushed myself to my feet and decided that the best course of action would be to take a long, hot bath and try not to think about anything. Clearing my mind would hopefully let me come back to the problem later without any of the emotions currently clouding my judgment.

I went into the bathroom and started running water in the tub. Father O'Toole had bought one of those gift basket things for me as a thank you for at least trying, so I rummaged through it for the rose-scented bubble bath. I hadn't indulged in a bubble bath in years, but this seemed like a good time to do it.

I'd soak until the water got cold, I decided, and then I'd put on my most comfortable pajamas and curl up in bed with a good book. Hopefully, that'd allow me to get to sleep, and then I'd deal with the rest of this tomorrow.

I only hoped that I'd be able to come up with a solution. I just wished I had someone I could bounce ideas off of. Since there was absolutely no way in hell I would ever tell my parents about any of this, even if I wanted to talk to my mom, I couldn't. And the person I'd gone to originally was off the table as well. I knew that Tanner hadn't approved of what I intended to do. Telling him that X kissed me – and that I kissed him back – would be proof that he was right.

I wasn't the sort of person who had to be right all the time, but about this, I really wanted to be. It was a big part of why I didn't want to go back to Texas. I didn't want to prove everyone else right by admitting that this was a mistake. I wanted this to be an atonement for what I hadn't been able to do for Logan. I needed it to be.

I just didn't know how.

I was still mulling it over when X knocked at my door. I knew it had to be him even though he hadn't said a word. We were alone in the house. I briefly considered not answering, but I knew I had to face up to what I'd done.

I turned off the water and tied my dress more securely around my waist. I took a slow breath and went back into the bedroom just as he knocked a second time.