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"Good." She took a drink and then shook her head. "I swear, you don't know how lucky you are. This sort of thing doesn't come along all that often."

I thought back to our bizarre courtship. In the rational light of day, it barely seemed plausible at all. "I think I agree with you there."

CHAPTER TEN

The next few days were uneventful. A little of the Wrights case work trickled down to me, but nothing significant. I debated confronting Alan again, but I got the sense I'd already made a mistake complaining the first time. Pushing any more was likely to just make the situation worse. So instead, I swallowed my pride and focused on the tasks that were given to me.

I didn't hear anything from Sebastian. When we'd parted, we'd made no concrete plans to see each other again and that was fine with me. After all, what was the point of a casual fling if it filled your diary with obligations?

But as the days became a week, I began to grow uneasy. I wasn't expecting daily phone calls, but it felt like there should be some kind of communication. To make matters worse, I realised that I had no way of contacting him. I might have been able to find his building again if I really wanted to, but he'd never given me his phone number or even an email address. Our relationship effectively existed entirely on his whim.

"It's partially my fault I guess," I said to Ruth on the phone one night. "I should have asked for his number. But that doesn't make the situation any better. It's like I'm just lying around waiting until he feels like fucking me again."

"Isn't that what a casual relationship is?" she asked.

"I guess," I replied slowly, "but it's not supposed to be this one sided. What if
I
decide I'm in the mood?"

She laughed. "Feeling a little hot under the collar are we?"

As much as I hated to admit it, I was. My sex drive had never been much more than a low buzz in the background before, but my one night with Sebastian seemed to have kick started my libido something fierce. I found my eyes wandering much more than they used to, and my dreams had taken a notably erotic turn. It was quite inconvenient really.

"Maybe a little."

"Well," she continued, "I'm sure he didn't keep his number hidden on purpose. Just ask for it next time."

Knowing the sort of man Sebastian was, it wouldn't have surprised me if it had been intentional, but I didn't argue.

"What really bothers me is... what if there isn't a next time?" I said. "What if my gut was right and he was just looking for an easy lay?"

"A few days of silence is hardly a big deal. This is what you signed up for, remember? No fuss."

"I guess," I said again.

"And if it turns out he did take advantage of you, then yea he's an asshole, but worrying isn't going to change anything. Think of it this way; there are far worse things than one night stands with handsome foreign gentlemen who are great in bed."

I laughed. Ruth certainly knew how to put things in perspective.

I tried my best to take her advice to heart, but as more time passed, my restlessness grew. What was the threshold for when that sort of behaviour became unacceptable? Two weeks? A month? I had no idea. It felt like he'd gone to a lot of trouble just to sleep with me once and then drop me, but the evidence was growing increasingly hard to ignore.

Then one day nearly three weeks later, when I'd basically given up hope of ever seeing him again, I returned from a lunch meeting to find my office door open. Sebastian was leaning casually against my desk, suited, chiselled, and looking as dapper as ever.

"Seriously?" I hissed. Under other circumstances I might have reacted more calmly, but the way he stood there, smiling like his presence was totally normal, made my blood run hot.

"Still haven't got those greetings down pat yet, have you?" he replied, looking bemused at my dark expression.

"That's really the best you can do?"

"I'm not sure what else you were hoping for."

I strode into the room, slamming the door behind me. "I don't hear anything from you for three weeks, then you think it's okay to just show up at my office when the mood finally strikes you?"

His jaw tightened. "I didn't realise I owed you minute by minute updates of everything I did."

"You don't. You don't owe me anything. I guess I just hoped you might
want
to check in on me. A text message every once in a while isn't a big ask."

"It's not that I don't want to. I've just been busy." He began pacing. "I thought we understood one another, Sophia."

"So did I, but apparently I didn't make myself clear. That one dinner doesn't give you license to just ignore me until you feel like getting laid again."

"That's not how it is."

"Well that's how it seems to me."

He exhaled slowly. "I thought you were okay with keeping things simple."

"Simple is fine. Simple is great. I don't need romantic dates or bloody hand crafted mix tapes, but I do need to feel like I'm more than just a walking vagina that operates at your beck and call."

He studied me for several seconds, his expression growing concerned. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way," he said in a soft voice.

I felt some of my rage draining away. He looked genuinely distressed at having hurt me, although that didn't change the fact that he had. Part of me wanted to just end it then and there. For a casual relationship, it was already proving to be more emotionally taxing than I was prepared for, and with work ramping up, I couldn't afford any distractions.

But then I heard Ruth's words playing through my head.
"This sort of thing doesn't come along all that often."
That statement was truer than she'd realised. The chemistry between Sebastian and I was unlike anything I'd experienced before. It was practically nuclear. And he'd promised that there was so much more to learn.

I closed my eyes for a moment, collecting my thoughts. "Look Sebastian, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess most women you sleep with don't have a problem with this sort of arrangement. I bet they're pretty happy to take whatever you give them. But I'm not like that. I can't just be another pretty ornament."

"I never considered you to be," he replied, his expression earnest.

"Then start showing it. I'm happy to keep this relationship simple, but simple doesn't mean totally one dimensional. If we're going to continue, I need to feel like you're putting in at least a little effort. It doesn't have to be much, a quick bite to eat once every few weeks, a phone call or message now and then. If that's too much to ask, well, I'm sure you can find what you're looking for elsewhere."

He contemplated this. It didn't seem like I was asking much, but apparently it wasn't an easy decision.

"If that's what you need to feel comfortable, I'll do my best," he said eventually. "But in return, you have to understand that there are times I might not be able to contact you. I seek these sorts of relationships for a reason. It's true, I tend to keep my distance out of habit, even when I don't need to, but the fact remains that my schedule is incredibly unpredictable. I could be called to fly overseas tonight, and even when I am here, I'm often so busy I barely have time to eat or sleep."

I nodded. "I can sympathise with that." His words seemed fair. I knew the toll work could take on a person's personal relationships. Suddenly, I felt embarrassed at the way I'd reacted. He was just like me in a lot of ways; career driven and focused, almost to a fault. I could hardly hold that against him.

"I'm sorry too," I continued. "Maybe I overreacted. I'm not good at this stuff. I'm willing to compromise if you are."

"Sounds good to me," he said.

"Excellent." I still felt a little uneasy, but I'd said my piece and he seemed to have taken it to heart. I couldn't ask for more than that. "So why did you decide to pop in anyway? I assume it wasn't to get told off."

He smiled. "Actually I brought you something."

"Oh? Trying to bribe your way out of trouble then?"

"Not really. It's more of a return than a gift." He reached into his bag and pulled out the shoes I'd left on his office floor that first night we'd met. "I believe you were a little too preoccupied to take them with you the other week."

I couldn't help but laugh.
So now he brings them.

"Am I missing something?" he asked.

"Oh it's nothing," I said, suddenly aware of how childish the story seemed.

"No, go on."

I sighed. "It's stupid really. Remember when I said I'd explain my safe word?" He nodded. "Well, when I was running away that first night, it occurred to me that the situation bore some passing similarity to Cinderella. You know, shoes left behind at the ball and all that."

He seemed to find this incredibly amusing. "I'm a little rusty with my fairy tales, but I don't remember Cinderella being quite as sordid as that particular evening."

"You mustn't have been reading the right version."

"Apparently not." He grinned. "Well, that does explain why you were in such a hurry to leave. And here I was thinking you were embarrassed."

I shook my head. "Nope. I just had to escape before pumpkin o'clock."

Sliding closer, he wrapped his arms around my hips, locking my body against his. "So if you're Cinderella, that makes me Prince Charming then?"

Whatever lingering frustration I'd felt instantly melted away. "I guess so," I said, my voice suddenly fluttering.
How the hell does he keep doing that to me?

"Well then, I believe that means that since I've returned your lost slippers, we're meant to kiss now."

I knew I should probably stop him. Someone could walk in at any moment. But as usual, I seemed to have no willpower where he was concerned. Craning his neck, he brought his mouth down to meet mine. The kiss was somehow firm and hungry, yet impossibly soft, and the warmth of it flowed through me. As our bodies rocked back against my desk, he reached up and ran one hand roughly through my hair, driving us together, as though someone might steal me away at any moment.

Some indeterminable time later, he broke away. "I do believe I should bring you things more often," he said with a smile.

"I'm not sure I'd ever get much done if you did." Glancing and the clock I winced. "Speaking of getting things done, you should probably go. As much as I don't want to go back to this stuff, it'll just be there tomorrow if I don't do it today."

I slipped out from under his arms and reached to open the door, but he followed behind me, catching my wrist in his hand and sliding up against me until my body was pressed into the wood. Trapped again.

"I'm sorry we don't have more time," he said, drawing his free hand softly down my hip. "I do like the idea of fucking you right here."

I could feel his excitement jutting into my lower back like hot metal.
Just a few inches lower and... Jesus Sophia, you're at work for fuck's sake.

"This is my office, Sebastian," I said, trying to sound disapproving. I didn't do a very good job.

Dropping his head down he brushed his lips gently across the curve of my neck. "Well, I guess that wouldn't be proper," he whispered. "We'll just have to wait. Are you free tomorrow night?"

"I think so."

"Good. Then come to the Royal Bay hotel, room four hundred, at eight o'clock."

"Why?"

"You said you wanted to start learning more about what it is to submit, so tomorrow I'm going to show you. I think you'll find the experience... eye opening." Releasing me, he took a step back and opened the door himself. "Until then, Sophia." And before I could muster a reply, he was gone.

I stood for a few moments trying to collect myself, his final words still ringing in my ears. Last time we'd been together, in the heat of the moment, I'd said that maybe I wanted to be shown something more, but now he'd called me on it.
Well what the hell did you think he'd do, missionary with the lights off forever?

In spite of what his dominance did to me, I still had my doubts. There was a big difference between a bit of playful restraint and the sorts of things he enjoyed. Was I really one of those girls?

Apparently I was about to find out.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The next morning I took a long shower and then ventured outside to find breakfast, looking forward to doing not much of anything. At the start of the year, I promised myself I'd take one Sunday a month off from work entirely. When you work for a big law firm, it's easy to lose all sense of balance. One day a month doesn't sound like much, but it's enough to feel like you've still got some semblance of control over your life.

I brought a book along with me. I used to love to read in high school, but with free time an ever shrinking commodity, my 'to read' pile kept growing faster than I could get through it. Those Sundays were about the only time I ever made any progress.

I leafed through a few pages, trying my best to concentrate, but my mind kept wandering back to Sebastian. It annoyed me. I wasn't the sort of girl who pined after men. For me, sex had always been just another fun way to pass the time. Except with Sebastian, it was something more.