Page 23 of Dark Secret

I went into the living room, and he turned on the television. There was a new show we wanted to watch, and when our food finally arrived, he went down to get it, so I didn’t have to get dressed. The elevator would open onto a parking garage, so it wasn’t like anyone would see him except the delivery driver.

After that, we ate, and once the show had gone off, Dylan led me into his play room. I grinned, because I knew it was going to be a long night, if he was taking me in there. A night where no contracts would be mentioned, because he would be too busy driving me to orgasm, only to pull me away until I would come uncontrollably. It was always a good night with him, no matter what we did. Tonight wouldn’t be any different.

Dylan

I stared at myself in the mirror the next morning. After a swipe to remove steam from my shower, I saw my own reflection and grimaced. I was smiling. Damn it.

I reached for a towel to smear more of the steam from the mirror and found I was still smiling. I looked closer and saw my gray eyes were happy too. Even when a twinge of pain made me grimace, my eyes were still happy. What the fuck was wrong with me?

It was Stephanie that was what it was. Even without a contract, the woman just made me happy, and that was just, well … it was kind of gross. At least to the man I was before I’d met her. He would have hated that look on my face, and he’d have run far, far away.

I didn’t want to run away from her now, which was a big problem. It was one I was trying to come to terms with. It was brand new to me, this need to have someone there when I came home, but not just anyone. I also found I slept a lot better when she was by my side at night. When I could wrap myself around her, protect her, I could sleep.

That I could understand. The need to protect was something I knew well. I could deal with that. This need, though? That was freaking me out.

“You’ve got to snap out of this, Dylan. You aren’t that kind of man. She deserves better than you. She deserves someone who can love her properly.” That finally brought a stony glare to my face that hid the sadness those words actually made me feel.

I had some business to deal with today, a meeting at the bank to make sure the money could be transferred once the current owner of the resort finally cleared everything and got the papers back to my lawyer, and I’d be gone most of the day. I didn’t even want to leave her for a few hours; that was how bad this was.

I knew when I had to walk away from that jewelry store in New Orleans that I was in some serious trouble. I’d force some time apart if we hadn’t done that already. I’d have snapped if she hadn’t come to me. I’d have gone to her, and I knew now I didn’t want to give her up again. How could I deal with this?

The contract. That would keep a wall between us. A business transaction, I had to get it back to that, and then, perhaps, my head would clear. I kept that thought in my head as I finished my shave, got dressed, and left Stephanie in bed asleep. There was a note on the bedside table, and I’d give her a call later.

As I drove out to the bank, I found my thoughts kept drifting back to her. I wondered if she had a passport. If she’d loved New Orleans, she’d really love Paris. Which made me wonder if she spoke any other languages. I’d have to ask her tonight.

I’d learned a very simple version of Spanish and had spent some time learning Dutch. I’d even spent a summer in Amsterdam after I graduated from high school. I hadn’t used the Dutch in years, but the Spanish had been useful. I didn’t mind it, and I felt that the practice of using a different language helped to keep the brain healthy.

I bet she’d learned French in high school. Most of the girls I’d met back then had taken it instead of other languages. I wasn’t quite sure what was so romantic about it, but then I got strange looks when I said Dutch was a beautiful language. I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel and eased the car into moving as the light changed to green, distracted by the need to pay attention to the road now.

Of course, once I got to the bank, the person I was supposed to be meeting with hadn’t arrived yet. I took out a notepad I kept in my briefcase and started to write out a new contract. This one talked less about payments and duties, and more about what I’d like to see happen.

My needs had changed as I’d come to know Stephanie a little better. I no longer wanted a pure sub, a woman who was totally submissive to me in all things. I wanted that fire that Stephanie had found in her time with me. She’d gone from a scared little mouse to a confidant young woman who demanded her due. I loved that about her and was more than a little proud that I’d brought that out in her.

That didn’t mean I would stop our games or empty out the play room. It just meant I couldn’t give her that kind of relationship where I beat her. I’d never had that kind of relationship with her anyway, but she’d wanted it at the beginning.

I checked my watch, saw the manager was a half hour late now, and continued to write. It wasn’t necessarily a contract, but a letter. It was a proposal of sorts. Live with me, be my mistress, and I will reward you for that. Hmm, perhaps that wasn’t an offer I should make.

Maybe I should have just done what I knew she wanted and let the whole thing go? No, I decided as the manager finally walked in, an apology already falling from his lips. I was a businessman. It was what I was good at. Love wasn’t my area. I’d work on the contract tonight. There had to be one. I needed that wall up between us, and I needed it up now.

I’d be in a whole lot of trouble otherwise.

* * *

I’d decided to take her out by the time I got home. There was a great little place that played some of the more sensual songs from the 1960s on certain nights and all the people would come out, young and old, to do some of the classic dances from that time. I didn’t exactly know them, but it had been obvious that both Stephanie and I knew a few dance steps. We could figure it out.

“Do you have a dress you can dance in?” I asked with a gleam in my eye as I walked into the penthouse, and she came to hug me.

“Of course, I do. What kind of woman do you take me for?” She grinned.

“The kind who deserves everything she’s ever wanted. What’s that I smell?” I planted a kiss on her nose and followed my own into the kitchen. I found a pot of chicken and dumplings on the stove. Very yummy. Stephanie was also a very good cook.

A woman with many talents, she never failed to impress me.

“Where are we going?” she asked as we finished dinner, and she put the dishes in the sink.

“Well, why don’t you go fancy yourself up, babe, and I’ll wash these dishes up? Then, I’ll show you where we’re going.” I smiled as she grunted and stomped off. I’d seen that pleased smile on her face before she left.

A half hour later she came out of the bathroom with her hair pinned up in something I thought was called a French twist, and her face was made up. She wore a pink dress with a frilly skirt and a plunging neckline. Sheer fabric covered her arms, down to her wrists where satin formed the wristband. It was sexy but oddly virginal. Just like my Stephanie.