Reconstructing Meredith (15 page)

I sighed.

I could have called her. Could have texted her. Maybe gotten in the car and gone to her apartment, assuming that was where she’d gone. I didn’t, though. If I knew one thing about her, it was her need for space while she calmed down. Making contact now would just mean more fighting. As much as it went against every shred of my personality—the need for control, the desire to fix—I could do nothing now but wait.

The next move had to be hers.

Around three the following afternoon, my cell phone vibrated, sending cool water through my veins and jarring me out of my mental haze. I was in my office, up to my ass in schematics, numbly processing numbers in between responding to the usual bullshit via e-mail. Fortunately, I knew my job inside and out, so running on autopilot was doable. Even after a sleepless night and trying to think with a wandering mind, I could still function at work. I’d certainly done it before.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I needed neither caller ID nor clairvoyance to know before I picked it up who was calling. When I looked at the screen, I wasn’t sure if I was more unnerved or relieved to be right.

Meredith
.

My heart pounded. I flipped my phone open. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She was quiet for a moment. “Can we talk? About last night?”

I glanced at my watch, cursing under my breath. “I’m just about to go into a meeting, babe, but I’ll be home around six tonight if you want to meet me at my place. Or I can come to your place, it’s up to you.”

“Yours is fine.”

“I’ll see you then.”

We hung up, and I went back to my schematics and numbers. I couldn’t even run on autopilot now; my apprehension created the kind of distraction that scrambled figures on a page and kept my fingers from typing a coherent sentence. I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. How the hell I was going to stay focused in the meeting, I had no idea, but I also didn’t have much choice.

Come on, get it together
. I glared at the letters, numbers, and diagrams that refused to make sense. Somehow or another, I had to think about specs and functionality for the next couple of hours. Not Meredith, not arguing, not that cretin who’d traumatized her.

I can do this. I’ve gotten through less with more on my mind
.

I did get through it. With a little luck and my God-given ability to bullshit my way through anything, I made it through the meeting without so much as raising my boss’s eyebrow. What the boss and client didn’t notice wouldn’t hurt me.

Eventually, five o’clock rolled around, and I slipped out under the radar of anyone who might have thought to suggest overtime or some other such nonsense I didn’t need tonight. I was of no use to anyone here this evening, so there was no point in getting roped into sticking around.

The knot in my stomach tightened with every milepost I passed on the freeway. Tighter still when I reached my exit and coasted down the off-ramp. By the time I turned on to my street, I didn’t think that knot could get any tighter.

I’d barely put my car in park in the driveway when movement in the rearview caught my eye. I glanced up as Meredith pulled in beside me. That knot that couldn’t have possibly gotten any tighter tightened anyway.

Taking a deep breath, I killed the engine and got out. Her car door closed, sending my blood pressure a few notches higher.

“Hey,” I said over the roof of my car.

“Hey.”

We looked at each other in silence for a moment. I had no idea what to say, but whatever one of us finally said, it didn’t need to be said out here.

I nodded toward the house. We both locked our cars. The sharp click of my dress shoes and the dull tap of her rubber soles emphasized the silence on the way from car doors to front door. My keys jingled. Crunched in the lock. Grind-click.

In the house, I shrugged my jacket off and draped it haphazardly over the back of a chair. Then we moved to the couch, and still neither of us spoke. We stayed a comfortably uncomfortable distance apart; far enough away to keep from accidentally touching, far enough to preclude putting an arm around her shoulders, but still too close while the air between us was this tense.

Just to give my hands something to do besides wring, I loosened my tie. I was about to start drumming my fingers on the armrest when Malia bounded up on to the couch between us. I thought about shooing her away, but as Meredith scratched the cat’s ears, she smiled a little. I decided Malia could stay.

My cat rolled on to her back, and Meredith and I both went to scratch her belly. Our fingers brushed. Neither of us recoiled. That was something, I supposed. Testing the water, I slid my hand over hers. She stopped scratching the cat and just let her hand be still beneath mine. Our eyes met briefly. Cautiously. Then we both shifted our attention back to our hands, which still rested gently on the cat. I ran my thumb along the side of Meredith’s hand. She did the same to mine.

Malia, however, was not so impressed by this, and kicked at our hands with her back feet.

Meredith laughed and jerked her hand away to avoid the claws. “Someone has to be the center of attention, I see?”

“God, yes. You know how they are.” I grabbed one of Malia’s paws, let it go, grabbed it again. She flattened her ears and swatted at my hand.

Meredith laughed again. “You’re just asking to get scratched, you know that?”

“Nah, she’s not quite quick enough— ow, damn it.” I pulled my hand back and shook it, grimacing at the sting along the back of my index finger.

“Not quick enough, eh?”

Malia glared at me, daring me to either try it again or make another claim that she was too slow. Since neither Meredith nor I were terribly forthcoming with belly rubs at that point while the claws were out, Malia got tired of being ignored and stormed off.

Alone again, Meredith and I looked at each other, but quickly dropped our gazes.

Meredith took a deep breath. “Scott, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have flipped out at you like that.”

I chewed my lip. “Why did you?” I instantly regretted the choice of words, especially when her glare confirmed they came out more snidely than I’d intended. I put a hand up. “I’m not asking to be a dick, babe. What I mean is, what was really bothering you?”

The well-deserved hostility in her expression faded. She sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just, I’m frustrated.”

“With me?”

“No, it’s not you. I mean, in a way it is, but it’s not.”

I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m frustrated that you’re having me move so slowly, but I…” She paused, and after a moment, met my eyes.

“Do you really think I’m holding you back to control you?”

“No.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Scott. I know why you’re doing what you’re doing.”

“Then why…?” I raised my eyebrows.

She swallowed. “Because I’m tired of the hold Rich has on me. Every step of the way, I trip over him and what he did, and I just…” She ran a shaking hand through her hair. “I get angry whenever I run into a wall that he put up.”

I put my hand on her knee. “I know it’s frustrating, babe.”

She dropped her gaze. “I get why you’re doing it. I do, but the whole process, this whole thing, it’s… it’s hell for me, Scott.”

I forced myself not to cringe visibly. Squeezing her hand, I whispered, “I know it is.”

“Every flashback and every nightmare just reminds me of how much of an impact Rich had on my life. So whenever we take a step back, or a
tiny
step forward, all I can think of is how much I hate him for what he did to me.” She blinked a few times before she went on. “It wasn’t you I was angry with yesterday, it was him. The thing is, every time we let my past keep us from moving forward, I feel like he’s won. Again.”

I slid my other hand under hers. “And the way I see it, every time we get through a scene without you panicking,
we
win. Baby, this is a slow process. I wish it wasn’t, but it has to be. It’s going to take some time to undo two and a half years’ worth of damage.”

She said nothing.

“I know you’re frustrated, babe,” I said. “I know you want to be at the end of this overnight, but I promise, I’m not holding back because I want to control you or dictate—”

“I know.” She avoided my eyes. “I just hate the fact that he still has this much control over me.”

“Every time we do this, though, every little step we take, the less control he has over you.” I reached up and ran my fingers through her hair. “Look how far you’ve come already.

She wiped away a tear I didn’t see. “Maybe I’m just being a pessimist, but all I see is how much farther we still have to go.”

“And maybe I am going slower than necessary,” I whispered. “But I’d rather do that than go too fast. I’ve always gone slow with new subs, but with everything you’ve been through, I’m scared to death of pushing you too hard and making things worse.”

She shook her head. “You’re not going too slow, Scott. You’re the last one I should be angry with through any of this.” She dropped her gaze, watching her fingers stroke the back of my hand for a long moment. “And I was completely out of line when I compared you to Rich. I didn’t… it… Jesus, Scott, I am
so
sorry.”

I moved a little closer to her and lifted her chin so she looked me in the eye. “I know you didn’t mean it, babe. I knew it as soon as you said it.” I leaned in and let my lips barely brush hers. When she made no attempt to pull away, I kissed her, wrapping my arms around her. When she returned my kiss, relief flooded my veins. Breath released. Knots unwound. Tension melted.

She broke the kiss and met my eyes. “Do you know what I kept thinking about last night? After I left?”

I shook my head.

“What you said,” she whispered, “that you wouldn’t flog me in anger.”

I didn’t speak, just cradled the side of her neck in one hand and pretended not to notice the chill inching its way up my spine.

She licked her lips. “As soon as you said that, I think I was angrier with myself for getting angry with you.” She trailed her fingertips down the side of my face. “You’ve been everything I needed from the beginning, and I was lashing out at you. When you said that, it…” She took a deep breath. “Before you, the majority of my experiences with a flogger
were
in anger. Scott, I’ve never been with someone who only hit me or flogged me for my own pleasure. Not until you.”

Gritting my teeth, I sent up a silent request for some serious divine retribution for that asshole. I kept my fury under the surface though, out of her sight, and instead ran the backs of my fingers along her jaw. “That’s the only reason anyone should ever lay a hand or a flogger on you.”

“Exactly. Which got me thinking, and I realized you’re the first one in years who’s made me feel…” Her eyes lost focus while she searched for the word. She opened her mouth to speak, then bit her lip. Took a breath. Hesitated again. As her eyes flicked back and forth between my eyes and lips, she abandoned whatever she’d intended to say and pulled me into another kiss instead. She initiated it, but let me take the lead. Her lips parted for my tongue. At the gentle insistence of my hand on her back, she moved in closer. When I wrapped my arms around her, she did the same.

Still in my arms, she looked up at me again. “What I was trying to say,” she whispered, “is you’re the first one in years who’s made me feel safe.”

I held her tighter and kissed her forehead. “You’re always safe with me, babe.”

She said nothing, just lifted her chin for another kiss.

I broke that kiss, but only long enough to whisper, “Come here.”

She moved to her knees and on to my lap, straddling me while we let the conversation fade away in lieu of a long, deep kiss. Now a whole different kind of tension made itself known. A deliciously familiar one, especially when she pressed her hips against mine to let me know she knew she was turning me on.

“So do we still have to move slowly?” She grinned against my lips.

I cupped her breast through her shirt. “Slowly, yes, but I’ve been thinking a little about moving things forward a bit.”

She looked at me, eyebrows raised.

Teasing her nipple with my thumb, I said, “What do you think you’re up for?”

She thought for a moment. “Maybe we could pick up where we left off last night?”

I kissed her again. “Feel like being flogged?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“To the dungeon, then,” I said with a smirk.

She laughed and stood.

Once I was on my feet, I gestured at my work clothes. “Let me change out of this first.”

“Don’t like flogging someone when you’re dressed like a respectable gentleman?”

I snorted. “Something like that.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, though.” She tugged my already-loosened tie a little looser. “Seems like it has some convenient things built right in.” She pulled the tie free. “Ever use these for ‘non-dressing’ purposes?”

“When nothing else is available.” I grinned as she wound it around her hands. “However, something else
is
available, so we’ll just save this for another night.”

“Good. I’ll look forward to it.” She handed me my tie. We exchanged grins and a brief kiss. I went into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of bottles of water for later, and led her down the hall.

In the bedroom I changed into a pair of jeans, but didn’t bother with a shirt or shoes. It would all be coming off soon anyway.