The Dominant (21 page)

As I jogged the next morning, I thought back to the previous evening and my conversation with Todd. I’d knocked on his door
after leaving Abby. He had looked surprised, but agreed to talk with me in one of the hotel’s lounges.

He had seemed relieved at my decision to tell Abby, but I knew the hard part would be the actual telling. Todd had talked
with me for several hours, saying repeatedly that I’d made the right decision. He even seemed content with my timeline—I’d
tell her within three weeks.

The entire time, the thought that ran through my head most was
I no longer have all the time in the world. I have three weeks
.

Three weeks.

I’d left Todd and gone down to the lobby to play the hotel piano. Of course, the only song that came to mind was Abby’s song.
I’d counted as I played:

Three weeks
.

Twenty-one days
.

Five hundred and four hours
.

I still wasn’t sure how to tell her, but I knew one thing—I sure as hell wouldn’t be telling her anything this weekend.

I’d played for hours, letting the music take over my mind, just as Abby had taken over my soul. With each note I played, I
felt
myself grow calmer and calmer. By the time I’d returned to the suite, I’d felt more like myself than I had in weeks.

I told myself I was still the same man I’d always been. The same exact one. Except now I had Abby in my life. I would tell
her the truth sometime in the next few weeks and . . .

Well, I didn’t know what would happen then. I didn’t want to think about that yet. We still had this weekend to get through.

I finished my jog and returned to the suite. Stepping into Abby’s room, I noted she was still asleep. Good. I probably had
time to shower before she woke up.

By the time she made it into the suite’s living room, I had showered and dressed for the day. She stood in the doorway between
the dining and living room, wearing pants, a gray sweater, and a devilish grin.

I let out a sigh of relief. At least she didn’t appear scared after the rough sex of the night before. She looked . . . refreshed
. . . replete . . . and totally fuckable.

She danced over to the coffeepot, poured a cup of coffee and, God help me, wiggled her ass.

I almost spilled my coffee.

The panty lines, idiot. She’s showing you her panty lines
.

Abby wanted a spanking.

My cock went hard in less than three seconds.

“Abigail,” I said calmly. “Do I see panty lines?”

She held still for just a second. Just stood there and let me admire her ass.

I placed the coffee cup on the table in front of me. “Come here.”

She turned, devilish grin still in place.

“You’re wearing panties.” I walked behind her. “Take them off. Now.”

With trembling hands, she undid her pants and pushed them to the floor. Her panties joined her pants.

“Over the arm of the couch, Abigail.”

She draped herself over the couch and lifted her butt in the air.

I gave her ass a sharp slap. “No more panties the rest of the weekend.” I slapped it again. “When I finish, you will go to
your room and bring them all out to me.” Another one. “You’ll get them back when I say.” Another slap. “Which won’t be next
weekend either.” Slap. “I told you last night what will happen next weekend.”

I slapped her ass again. Her skin was turning such a lovely shade of pink. I slipped a hand between her legs. Fuck, she was
wet. Her butt pushed back toward me.

“Not this morning.” I spanked her again.
Believe me, I wish we had time
. “Put your pants on and bring me what I asked for.”

She stood slowly and redid her pants. Her expression was one of intense longing.

Next weekend, Abby. I promise. We’ll have all the time in the world
.

At least for the next three weeks
.

She gave an impish grin and trotted back to her room, returning moments later with an armful of panties.

“Planning on staying in Tampa long, Abigail?” I said, taking them from her.

“I like to be prepared, Master,” she said with lowered eyes.

Fuck.

When we entered the ballroom for brunch, I glanced around the room. Many of my business associates were present. Several of
Jackson’s friends stood together talking and, in one corner, Felicia talked with Linda. Another couple stood nearby.

I sighed.

Melanie’s parents. And they had seen us come in.

I didn’t want to leave Abby’s side, but I knew I had to at least chat with them and I preferred to do so without Abby present.
Abby knew I’d dated Melanie. I suspected she also knew Melanie was not my submissive. But Melanie’s parents didn’t know of
my lifestyle. At least, I didn’t think they did.

“We’re a bit early.” I dropped my hand to Abby’s lower back. Just in case the Tompkinses had any doubt, I wanted them to know
I was with Abby. Word would get back to Melanie, of course. Perhaps she would find some closure in that.

“I need to go speak with a few people,” I told Abby. “Should I take you over to Felicia and Linda or are you okay here?”

“I’ll be fine here.” She glanced over to where Elaina and Todd stood.

She wanted to talk to Elaina. Probably to see if Elaina would tell her anything about last night. It was a nice try, but it
wouldn’t work. I knew Todd would not betray my confidence.

I brushed my finger along the top of her arm. “I won’t be long.”

The Tompkinses watched as I approached and I swallowed my grin. I hadn’t spoken to them face-to-face since I broke things
off with Melanie.

“Ivan,” I said, shaking her father’s hand. “How are you?”

“Nathaniel.” He spoke far more civilly than I would have, had the situation been reversed.

“I’m so glad you were able to come,” I said with a sideways glance at Melanie’s mother, Tabitha.

“Well.” He slapped my back. “We decided to let the past stay in the past. Sometimes things don’t work out.”

I noticed Tabitha didn’t seem to share the sentiment.

“How is Melanie?” I asked.

“She’s still in New York,” her father said.

Yes, of course she was still in New York. Had she not been in New York, she wouldn’t have told Elaina and Todd about my lifestyle
and perhaps I wouldn’t have the three-week deadline staring me in the face.

“I wish her every happiness,” I said.

Tabitha gave a
humph
in reply.

“We know you do, Nathaniel,” Ivan said. “Our families have had a long and happy relationship. That won’t change just because
things between you and Melanie didn’t work out.”

“Ivan, look,” his wife said. “Isn’t that Samuel over there?”

“Why, yes. Yes, it is.” He turned back to me. “You will excuse us, won’t you, Nathaniel?”

“Of course, sir.”

He winked at me. “I’ll come by later to meet your new lady friend.”

I felt relieved at that. Tabitha would tell Melanie and then she could move on with her life. Find someone who could love
her the way she deserved.

After they left, I chatted for a few minutes with some colleagues who had traveled to Tampa for the game. The box was under
my name, but Linda had rented the ballroom. It was no accident on either of our parts that Melanie had not been invited to
the game or the brunch. I’d told Linda to invite her parents, hoping to make peace between us. Looked like that mission had
been accomplished.

Linda approached me as I moved toward Abby. “How did it go with them?”

“As well as could be expected. Ivan was fine, but I think Tabitha is still upset she can’t order the monogrammed towels.”

“I told her as much weeks ago. I even mentioned Abby—”

“Linda.”

“Now, now.” She patted my arm. “She might as well learn sooner rather than later. Melanie will never be a West.”

“I’m not marrying anyone.”

“Why don’t you go rescue Abby? Elaina has been chewing her ear off since you walked in.”

I collected Abby from Elaina and Todd, and the four of us wandered to the buffet line. Felicia joined our table when we sat
down. Jackson, I knew, would be with the other players until the game was over.

“Nathaniel,” Felicia said as she sat down. It was the friendliest she’d ever spoken to me.

She’d hate me for what I’d done to Abby. If she ever found out I’d watched Abby for years . . . Even if Abby forgave me, Felicia
never would.

“Felicia,” I said, acknowledging her greeting. I had three weeks. For three weeks, I could pretend all was well. “How’s Jackson
doing?”

She chatted for several minutes about Jackson, the game, the players she’d met the previous night, their wives. I could see
what Jackson liked about her. She did have a certain . . . something that fit well with him.

But, of course, she was no Abby.

“How long have you worked at the library, Abby?” Todd asked.

My head shot up. What the fuck?

She speared a piece of pineapple with her fork. “At the public library for seven years, but I worked at one of the campus
libraries before that.”

“You did?” he asked. “I wonder if I ever saw you. I spent a lot of time in the campus libraries.”

I kicked him under the table.
What the hell?
I mouthed.

Fortunately, Abby didn’t see. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’d probably remember you.”

“One would think,” Todd said, and I kicked him harder.

Fuck off
, I mouthed.

He raised his eyebrows.

Elaina looked from her husband to me and back again. I schooled my features, knowing Abby would be looking as well.

Todd cleared his throat. “You like the public library better than the campus one?”

“The people are a lot more diverse,” Abby said. She smiled, but I could see that she’d picked up on the undercurrent of tension
at
the table. “Plus, college students can be a bit obnoxious. Did I ever have to tell you to tone it down or to stop ripping
pages from the reference books?”

Todd laughed and the tension evaporated. “No. I definitely would have remembered that.”

Elaina asked Felicia another question about Jackson, and the conversation drifted seamlessly back to the Super Bowl.

Todd got up to refill his plate and I went with him.

“What the hell was that?” I asked him.

“Just helping you out.” He lifted a piece of bacon from the silver serving tray. “This look crispy enough to you?”

“I don’t care about the damn bacon.” I watched as he lifted another piece and put it on his plate. “Help me how?”

He moved on to the scrambled eggs. “If Abby remembers a pseudo-stalker from years ago, it makes your job easier.”

“The hell it does.”

“You might want to put some food on your plate, or else she’ll know you got up only to bug the shit out of me.” He held out
a spoonful of eggs. “Want some?”

“Why not.”

He spooned the eggs onto my plate. “Look, you want me to stay out of it, I’ll stay out of it. Just say the word.”

“Stay out of it,” I growled.

“I’m out.”

True to his word, he didn’t bring up Columbia or libraries for the duration of the brunch and I didn’t have to step on his
foot again.

When I entered the box with Abby, I noticed the duffel bag in the corner. I bent down. Yes, it was the bag I’d requested be
delivered. Two blankets, tickets to the upper middle section, a zip-lock bag, and a short skirt would be inside.

I closed my eyes and focused on the upcoming plan.

Sex in a public place. Abby had marked it as “willing to try” on her checklist.

She was finally going to get a chance to experience it.

I was thankful for the unusually chilly Florida weather. Had it been a normal February, my plan would never have worked—at
least not at the Super Bowl. I’m sure I would have thought of some other way to introduce Abby to the joys of public sex,
but this way . . .

Would be unforgettable.

Throughout the first half, she watched the game and chatted with Felicia and Linda. Every once in a while, she’d glance my
way, a shy smile playing across her lips.

I couldn’t even say what the score was. I was too wrapped up in the beautiful brunette at my side.

Minutes before the second quarter ended, I took her hand and led her to Linda. I explained we had something to do and we’d
be back later. Abby didn’t even question me. Didn’t say a word as I picked up the duffel bag.

“My plan? Starts now.”

She looked up in confusion.

I handed her the bag. “Go change. I have an extra ticket in the bag. Meet me there before the halftime show starts.”

Without a word, she took the bag and walked off to the bathroom.

I checked my pockets, made sure I had the condom and ticket, and then walked toward our new seats. I went a few rows higher
than I needed to—I wanted to watch her as she arrived.

I didn’t have to wait long before my wish was granted. She walked to the new seats, shuffling her way through the crowd, looking
around as if trying to find me. She had the skirt on. I could have stayed and watched her all night, but it was cold. She
needed the blanket around her.

And I needed her.

I sauntered down the stairs, anxious to be back by her side. To have her near me.

I sat beside her and put my arm around her, wondering how she would react to what I would say. “Do you know that three out
of four people fantasize about having sex in public?”

She grew still.

I licked the inside of her ear, watching as she shivered. “The way I see it”—I gave her ear another lick—“why fantasize when
you can experience it instead?”

She moved closer to me.

“I’m going to fuck you during the Super Bowl, Abigail.” I nibbled her earlobe and she rewarded me with a moan. “As long as
you’re quiet, no one will know.”

She crossed and uncrossed her legs, then glanced around us. No one was watching us, of course. No one cared about us. They
were too wrapped up in themselves.

I caressed her shoulder, stroked her. A faint smile crossed her face.