In the Rain (11 page)

"I'm
beginning to see that."

"Then
why sound so disappointed? Are you ashamed of who you are?"

I gave his question some thought,
and while I might not have been happy with Bret, or with my job, the disgust I
felt had never been with myself, just with
the circumstances I constantly had to face. "No, I don't think I am. But
he—"
He wasn't a real Dom.
More like he
wasn't the Dom I expected him to be.

He'd always been open to the idea
of kink, and when I told him I was a sub, he decided to give the role of a Dom
a try. Problem is, you can't learn to be a Dom or a sub. It's a part of oneself—a
trait I thought I saw in Bret a very long time ago.

I was dead wrong. The control I
freely gave to him out of trust was abused. He took it as my giving him
permission to disrespect me as a person. I tried to tell him there was a
certain balance between a sub and her Dom. I told him there were different
levels of control. I was only looking
for it in the bedroom whereas he saw my obedience as an opportunity to make him
his personal slave.

And that wasn't
what I signed on for.

"If
you aren't ashamed of yourself or your submission, why hide from it? Submission
is a thing of beauty, especially when you can give up that control
over yourself to someone you trust."

"You
do realize how wrong this is—us talking about our sex lives, don't you?"

"Not
really, no. We aren't talking about our lives, we're talking about the dynamic
we shared the other night. Those are two entirely different things. Now, would
it be wrong to badmouth exes and go over all that crap
until we figured out what was going on between us? Yes. But this? We're talking
about the same things you'd probably discuss if you went to one of the private
parties in Philly."

"Even
if I'm not sure I want to live the lifestyle anymore?"

He
shrugged. "Like I said, you can hide it all you want, but it's always
going to be somewhere in the back of your mind." He shifted and folded one
leg under the other. "Tell me something, when did you realize I was a Dom?"

"I
didn't—or well, I couldn't know for sure."

"But
you had suspicions."

"Yes."

"When?"

"Our
having sex aside, isn't this too personal?"

"Perhaps."
He reached for the takeout bag on the table, and while the burger was likely
cold by now, he unwrapped it anyway. "I can tell you when I knew you were
a submissive." He took a bite of his sandwich, then offered me the fries that were
sitting in the bottom of the bag.

I
waved my hand. "I'll pass, but thank you." It amazed me to see him acting
so casually about this, especially considering we'd shared his bed last week. "So,
when did you know?"

He
set the burger down, wiped his mouth with a napkin, then looked right at me. "Just
as soon as you walked into that bar."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"And
you didn't say anything? Not even after
the other night?"

He
shrugged. "Figured it wasn't my place to ask. Besides, what we did was
pretty tame, but still acceptable if I'd been wrong. A bit of hair pulling
never hurt."

I shivered from the memory, and
quickly crossed my legs to quiet the throbbing of my clit. "Where do we go
from here?"

"That's entirely up to you and
what you're comfortable with. If you want, we can remain friends and forget
this discussion ever happened—even though
I consider it a good thing. Or, you can come and play for me until after
Webster hall."

"And if I want to try
something else?"

"Sleep
on it for a few nights, and we can talk about it again. I don't want you to
feel as though I'm forcing you to do any of this. You have every right to
decline every single one of my offers, but I also won't walk away should you
ask for my help."

"So
I guess that means
sex is out for tonight, huh?"

He
cocked an eyebrow at me. "I never said that."

"But
you just said—"

"About
your submission and being my
violinist, yes. Not sex."

"I
obviously have a lot to learn then, because I thought the other night—"

"Was
us clearing the air. Besides, you've had sex without anything attached before."

"Yeah,
but not with someone I actually lo—someone I knew."

He
smirked. "Minor details. The ball's in your court now. We can sit here and
talk, you could play some more of my music, or, we can go upstairs and see what
happens."

"Well,"
I said, scooting over so I was sitting on the middle cushion. "Seeing as
we've already talked, and we were in the middle of something before then..."
I leaned in, barely kissing him on the lips. "I guess we could—"

"Upstairs.
Now.
" 

I
took the stairs two at a time. I didn't wait for Thayre's direction, knowing
right where his room was. And he didn't stop me, not even after
we got inside his room.

"On
the bed," he said, heading for the nightstand. "But lie with your
legs over the edge."

"Long-ways
or—"

"Doesn't
matter," he threw over his shoulder as he searched through his closet for
something.

Aside
from the bit of light filtering in from the hall, I couldn't see much at all,
but apparently Thayre knew exactly where he was going, returning moments later.

"Inch
down a bit so your ass is on the edge."

I
trembled from his tone as much as his words, but did as he asked.  I lifted my
head and glanced down at the foot of the bed, eying the few items he put there:
a scarf, cuffs and...
a wand?

"Before
you freak out, let me explain," Thayre said as he picked the scarf up off
the mattress. "I got these things out in case you wanted to try something
else, but I'm not asking you to do anything. This is entirely up to you, but
what you decide now will give me a better understanding on where we're headed.
Think of it as a roadmap."

I
sat up and held out a hand, taking the scarf from Thayre when he offered it to
me. "And the scarf's for what exactly?"

"Blindfold."
He shrugged. "What? I had to improvise. Besides, most of the blindfolds
out there don't do shit. That said, I have a feeling you know what these are."
He held up the set of leather cuffs, unsnapping one side so it was open. "They're
more comfortable than they look."

"And
the wand? Is that..."

"A
conductor's baton, yes." He laughed.

"More
improvising?"

"Not
really. You'd be surprised how well it works as a tickler." He went on. "Everything
I have out now could be used by any couple."

"Kink,"
I said, nodding.

"Yes.
Just because one might be bound or use a paddle, it doesn't make what they're
doing BDSM. I know I've said this before, but it needs repeating. Being a sub
is as much a frame of mind as anything else. Without having those submissive
tendencies the same way I have them as a Dom, we'd be another couple
experimenting with kink. And we can still work along those lines. This can go
as little or
as far as you like."

"For
now?" I paused, but the lift of his eyebrows asked me to continue. "I
want to forget about the kink, my submission or anything else that might
have to do with that lifestyle."

He
nodded, but I didn't miss the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "I'm
okay with that,
but if you change your mind—"

"I'll
let you know."

Thayre
patted on the mattress. "Lie back and, if it's not too much to ask, close
your eyes."

I
settled down, and after a bit of hesitation on my part, I shut my eyes. Thayre
didn't move or speak for a long, unnerving moment. And soon, I couldn't
remember where I'd left him before I closed my eyes. At the foot of the bed, of
course, but how close was he? Where were his hands? His eyes? Was he looking at
me or something else?

I
shivered and folded my hands behind my head. I was still clothed. My legs hung
off the edge of the bed. I wasn't exposed, and yet I felt completely
vulnerable. In a good way. This was the one guy I knew I could trust, as much
from our past as the events that had
happened over the last two weeks. And while we might not have gotten into bed
together when we were teens, I knew now that the attraction hadn't been
one-sided.

Something
clicked off to my left, but before I could react, music danced in the air above
me. I tried to concentrate on where Thayre may have gone, but found myself
following the music instead. It wasn't something I'd heard before, but it was
definitely his. Strings opened the piece, joined by a bit of trance less than a
minute into the song.

My
head bobbed on its own while I gently tapped my foot against the air.

"Open
your eyes."

I
did, and smiled as small orbs of colored light moved from one side of the
ceiling to the other. "Thayre, this—"

"Even
without bondage, floggers and blindfolds, you can still submit. Your
apprehension is more than enough for me. The entire time you were laying there,
probably going out of your mind, I was standing right over here."

I
turned my head in his direction, laughing at the small disco ball sitting on
his dresser beside the source of his music. "Head games."

He
smiled, then stepped toward me, leaning in to kiss me on the lips. "The
best kind. But you see what I mean? You can't control your submission. It's a
part of who you are, and, like it
or not, you're stuck with it."

"Why
are you so desperate to see me give in to it?"

He
caressed my cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Because, I can see
fighting it frustrates you. But also because you would make a beautiful
submissive." He brushed a thumb under my eye, removing a tear I hadn't
noticed was there. "Listen, I might not know what happened in your last
relationship, but it obviously wasn't bad enough to throw you out of the
lifestyle completely. Even if you hadn't brought this up tonight, I saw the
submissive side in you well before you saw the Dom in me. You wear your
submission on your sleeve, and while you may think you're tricking yourself,
you aren't hiding it from anyone else. And again, I'm not asking anything from
you, only that you
be yourself around me. Especially when it comes to your music."  

Tears
burned my eyes. I was angry with myself and beyond frustrated with my life.
When I wasn't defending myself at work, I was struggling to make heads or tails
of my sex-life, and the other night with Thayre only seemed
to complicate things more. Something had to give, and it all started in this
room.
Right now.

I
threw my arms around Thayre, grateful when he hugged me. I buried my face
against his neck, but even then,
I was pretty sure he knew I was crying. He held me closer. Tighter. And once
I'd taken a handful of steady breaths, he drew his head back to look in my
eyes.

Lifting
my chin, he asked, "You okay?"

I
nodded, then fell into his arms again. I somehow knew we were moving too fast. We
were past the point of friends heading toward something more—and I wasn't quite
sure which one I was more comfortable with. Keeping our friendship would leave
an odd tension between us, but if we continued in the direction we were headed,
it could make matters worse.

Only
if you mess it up.
And given my track record...

"You're
over thinking things again," Thayre said, playing with my hair.

"How—"

"You
got quiet, and after seeing you play music for so long, it doesn't take a
genius to know when you aren't mentally in the room."

"Sorry."
I sat up, but I didn't look at him.

"Don't
be." He brushed my cheek and met my gaze. "If you aren't comfortable
with this, we can go downstairs."

I
shook my head and reached for the top button of his shirt. "I think—I want
this."

He
cupped his hands around mine, removing them from his shirt. "Then lie
down. Same as before."

I
frowned, and was about to ask him why this particular position was so
important, but the playful smile on his face was answer enough for me. So, with
a little more
confidence than before, I returned to the middle of the mattress, making sure
my butt was on the edge of the bed and that my
legs hung off.

"Eyes
closed."

I
took a breath then shut my eyes. By now, the music from earlier was gone,
replaced by yet another, equally as mesmerizing melody. And again, I found
myself focusing on the music, on where to place my hands on the violin if I
were to play along with it.

I
gasped when Thayre pressed his lips to mine, and suddenly I was in his room,
breathing him in as he deepened our kiss. I sat up so I could work on his shirt,
and this
time, he didn't stop me. Lost in our kiss, we pulled at each other's clothing,
unbuttoning buttons before parting to remove our shirts completely.

Thayre
unclasped my bra and added it to the pile, keeping one arm behind my back as he
lowered me onto the bed.

"You
have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?" He kissed my lips. The side
of my neck, slowly moving toward my collarbone. My shoulder. "Just
perfect."

He
fondled one of my breasts, gently sucking on the hard nipple as he used his
free hand to work on the button to my pants. Lightheaded and a little dizzy,
I couldn't keep my eyes open even if
I'd wanted to. Between the melody of what was playing in the room and what he
was doing with his hands, I was lucky I could still breathe.

I
arched my back away from the bed as he drew away from me, using both hands to
remove what was left of my clothing. Then everything stopped. Like before, he
was quiet, but I honestly couldn't say where he was in the room.

"Fuck,"
I released a hiss of breath when he touched a finger to my clit.