Woman In Chains (36 page)

Dak shook his head. The few family members he still talked to were fine the last time he’d checked.

“Is it a woman?”

With that query, Dak glanced at his friend.

“Ah, ol’ McCreevey always finds the answer. I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

“I was. But I fucked up. How we got together was based on a lie, and she found out. Now she wants nothing to do with me.”

“Hmm, do you blame her?”

That question forced Dak to blink.

“I mean, would you really want some chick who didn’t think enough of herself to say ‘This is not what I want in a relationship’? You can’t expect women to be doormats.”

Now Dak laughed. His friend spouted the same advice he’d given to Rebekah when he’d retrained her, and yet he wanted her to forget all of that for him.

“You’re right. But I miss her like crazy.”

McCreevey put his hand on his shoulder. “If she’s meant to come back to you, she will. But you have to give her and yourself some time.”

“So what, are you a private eye
and
a relationship counselor?”

McCreevey smiled. “Buddy, you don’t know the half of all of my skills.”

Dak laughed, a first in several weeks.

“Diving into work might be a good thing for you. Keep your mind off of your woman troubles.”

Dak hoped. Building furniture, getting all of Rebekah’s paintings framed, and making the downstairs area a shrine to her hadn’t helped him. He missed her. His body ached for her. His friend knew his stuff. Dak had to do something he never did as a Dominant: he had to wait to see what Rebekah wanted.

****

Rebekah brought a mug of tea to Mistress Siren and started to lower herself onto the floor next to her.

“No, no. Sit on the couch.” The stately woman pointed to the couch that sat next to her.

Although Rebekah had never served a woman before, she found the request odd. However, she did as instructed and sat across from her. Rebekah had a feeling that Mistress Siren would share some bad news.

To beat Siren’s speech, Rebekah said, “I just want to thank you for allowing me into your home.”

“I told you I would help you, and I meant that.” Siren took a sip of her tea.

The aroma of it reminded Rebekah so much of Dak. She shook her head. She had to stop thinking about him.

Easier said than done. The man consumed her thoughts, from his eyes to his voice to the incredible way he touched her. Just thinking of him, Rebekah’s nipples hardened, and the familiar throbbing of her clit began. She crossed her legs to halt the feeling.

“And I’m so grateful that you’ve taught me so much while I’ve been here.” Rebekah smiled to show her appreciation.

“I don’t mind training submissives and slaves.”

“And your house is incredible. You must be very—”

“Rebekah, what is it that you really want?” Mistress Siren posed the question in the middle of Rebekah’s compliment.

“Excuse me, Mistress Siren?”

“You serve me, but you do it out of obligation instead of need. When I saw you with Dak, you seemed so happy.”

“He lied to me.”

Mistress Siren set down her mug. “And I’m sure he regrets it every day of his life. But I can tell you this. Dakota Ricci is a good man. He’ll go out of his way to help people, but he’s had so many obstacles thrown in front of him. He never seems to catch a break…until you.”

Rebekah stared at Siren, mainly at the woman’s mouth, like she wanted to examine every word formed with her lips about Dak.

Siren continued. “I know it was hard for him to give up Lil’ Mary when they were together. But it seemed like he bounced back from that a lot better than with you. I’ve seen him recently. He’s not the same Dakota I knew. And—although he won’t admit it, being the stubborn mule that he is—I know he misses you terribly.”

He couldn’t miss her as much as she missed him. Rebekah had gone so far as to do a pencil sketch of Dak that she kept hidden under her pillow. Once she’d even masturbated to it.

“I’m not telling you what you should do.” Mistress Siren waved her finger at her. “If I know Dak, and I do, because I taught him everything he knows about BDSM, I know he taught you that as a submissive you need to think for yourself, make decisions that make you happy. Despite what happened to cause you to be so upset with him, did he make you happy?”

Rebekah couldn’t answer. Her eyes filled with fat tears that flowed freely down her cheeks.

Siren pulled out a couple of sheets of facial tissue from a box next to her and handed them to Rebekah. “That’s what I thought. Dak might have saved you for the wrong reason. I have to admit, even though he’s my friend, he’s a bullheaded man. But he’s a man with a heart, a soul, and a conscience. I bet if you tell him how you’re feeling, he’ll listen.”

“But I don’t know what to say. I thought he would be the Dom of my dreams,” Rebekah continued, wiping her face.

“He still could be. Even in the vanilla world, relationships require work. Just give him a chance. Maybe it’s something you two could work out.”

After all of the hard work Rebekah had put into changing her life, her perception…could she forgive him that easily? If she did, would that make her the same slave who felt she deserved to be treated horribly for past sins?

She rubbed her hand over her neck, empty of a collar of any kind. Dak had offered to give her one. Would he still make that offer now if she went back to him, or had he already moved on with his life? Only one way to find out.

****

Despite the chilling rain, Dak continued thwacking away with an ax on logs behind his house. He had to release his aggression somehow. Making toothpicks out of stately oak trees seemed to be a good form of therapy.

With each hit, he had hoped to erase the memory of Rebekah from his thoughts. Just recalling her face, her body, those magnetic eyes, put him in a tailspin.

Dak took a momentary break and glanced up as he attempted to catch his breath. Directly in front of him stood the two trees he had strung Rebekah between. Instantly the memory of him playing with her with the dowel flooded his thoughts.

“Fuck!” Dak grabbed the ax handle.

At a full charge, he steamed toward one of the trees. With only a few hard chops, he managed to take down the small tree. Seeing it up would dredge up too many bad memories. He had enough nightmares that tortured him.

Dak ran his hand over his head and turned to attack the second tree. From the corner of his eye, he saw Moira standing in the middle of his backyard underneath a white umbrella with the name of the hospital where she worked stamped on the top.

Dak waved a dismissive hand at her. “I know what you’re going to say, Moira.” His soaked flannel jacket weighed him down. “You’re going to say that you told me to admit her to one of those facilities, and this is what I get for not doing that. You’re going to say that Rebekah really doesn’t love me. That it’s some sort of Stockholm Syndrome or whatever you shrinks, uh, psychiatrists call it. You’re going to say that I need to get over it.”

Moira shifted her weight to her other foot as she stared at him.

“I can’t get over her.” Dak shook his head. “I love her.” Then, to make Moira truly see that he meant every word, he stormed to her, and stood directly in front of her. Rain dripped from his head and the tip of his nose. “I love her. I can’t go a day or even a minute without thinking about her. She’s talented and she’s smart and she’s funny. She makes love like no one I’ve ever been with before.” He noticed Moira’s eyes widened at that declaration. Dak couldn’t stop talking. “BDSM or not, she’s the woman that completes me. And I’ve been fighting myself to keep from trying to find her and drag her back her to my house and make her see that I’m the best one for her.”

Moira put her hand on her hip like she started to lecture him.

“But I’ve learned that I need to listen to people. I admit. I don’t do that very well and it’s cost me dearly. If Rebekah doesn’t want me, I have to respect that. But damn, it hurts so much. I think I would rather be strung up on a St. Andrew’s cross and have hot wax poured over me than to go through what I’m going through right now.”

He exhaled and paced in front of Moira. The key to gaining his life back, he had to respect what Rebekah had told him and allow her some space. If she came back, he would be the most appreciative man on the planet. If she didn’t, it would crush him. He would have to learn to move on.

He stared at Moira. A sense of calm washed over him. “Thanks for letting me vent, Moira. You’re a good friend.”

She offered a small smile and shrugged her shoulders. Moira started to leave when he stopped her with his words.

“Hey, next time, will you not talk so much? You’re like a chatterbox.”

Moira laughed and nodded. She flashed him a thumbs-up sign as she headed back to her car.

Dak had to get himself out of the rain. He went back into his house, stripped, and showered. He’d hoped the warm water would soothe him. Instead it stirred up memories of all of the times he and Rebekah had spent in that very stall.

After getting dressed, Dak sat in his former dungeon in a chair that sat in the middle of the room. Everywhere he looked, his gaze fell on one of Rebekah’s paintings. The rendering of her father abusing her he couldn’t stand to frame. Rebekah must have created the image as a cathartic release, but that didn’t mean the piece needed to be glorified.

“I should have told her,” Dak said out loud to himself in the room. “She should have been told the truth.” He bowed his head and covered his eyes with his hands.

No amount of woodworking or new training or work could get her out of his mind. Every morning when he woke up, he agonized over her, over the mistakes he’d made. If he had to do it all over again, he would change so many things.

His doorbell chimed, followed by three hard knocks. Must be Moira again, ready to actually talk this time. Or maybe it Gordon wanted another favor. They had patched their friendship back up faster than Dak had expected. As soon as Gordon had another save that needed to be done, he’d found it in his heart to forgive his friend. Of course, Dak turned down the job. Dak had meant it when he’d told Gordon he no longer wanted to do any more saves right before he encountered Rebekah. After everything that had happened, he truly wanted out. He’d done a lot for SAFE. He deserved a break.

Another knock sounded on the door.

“Yeah, Gordon. Hold on.” Dak whipped the door open. “Keep your panties on.” His heart stopped when he saw Rebekah standing on his porch. He blinked a few times to make sure he hadn’t been dreaming.

“May I come in?”

Instead of verbally answering, Dak took a step to the side. She sauntered by him, her perfumed body hypnotizing him with her flowery aroma.

Dak pointed to a chair in his living room, but he, himself, didn’t sit, couldn’t sit. He paced in front of her like he’d done with Moira.

“I am going to be straight up with you.” He glanced at her. “Yes, as soon as I found out that I would be saving you from Blade, I wanted to take you from him because he was the one who had taken Lil’ Mary from me. This is that whole black-and-white issue I was telling you about.”

Rebekah said nothing. Her glare seared a hole right through him, and the only way he would be able to repair it would be to keep telling her the truth and hope she accepted it.

Dak continued talking just to be able to keep Rebekah seated. “But that wasn’t the only reason I wanted to do the job. Gordon, um, Sire Steel, showed me your picture. As soon as I saw your eyes, I wanted to help you.” He held up his hand like an overgrown Boy Scout. “God’s honest truth. I didn’t even know you, and I wanted you. I wanted to help you. Then when I saw you in that drawer…”

Rebekah turned her head away in shame.

“…I couldn’t help but want to save you.” Dak stopped walking and dropped down to his knees at her feet. “As soon as we had sex, I should have told you right there and then about the whole situation. But I’ve never had to explain myself to anyone. And I’ve never made an emotional connection to a submissive until I met you.”

“What about with Lil’ Mary?” Rebekah asked.

Dak shook his head. “I wanted to be closer to her, but I always felt this barrier between us, like she was hiding something. You recognized it right away. Me being me, I completely missed it until I released her. I know now that no matter what I did, I couldn’t have made her happy. I beat myself up for a long time over that.” Dak held Rebekah’s hands. “You changed everything in me. I don’t know how I can possibly thank you enough.” He cupped her hand against his face. “If you never find it in your heart to forgive me, I’ll understand. But know this. I love you. I will always love you. If given a second chance, I promise you, I will be the man and the Dom that you want and need.”

Rebekah removed her hand from Dak’s face. Then she stood up. “Stand up.”

Dak blinked, not accustomed to being given orders.

When he didn’t move fast enough for her, Rebekah crossed her arms over her chest, cocked her hip, and glared at him. “Get. Up.” She spaced the words out to punctuate her intent.

Dak rose to his feet, never once taking his stare off her. “I know you’re not still my submissive anymore, but if you think you can speake to me like—”

“Follow me.” She marched to his bedroom.

Dak scratched his head as he followed her down to his bedroom. When he arrived, she stood by the head of the bed. With dusk settling, and the rain beating against the window, the darkened room seemed sinister than sexy.

“Get on the bed.” Rebekah pointed to the bed.

Dak shook his head. “Honey, it’s never been just about sex with us. I love you for your mind and your talent.”

She didn’t respond. Her lips drew into a tight line as she glared at the bed then back to Dak.

“Should I be naked for this?” he asked as he walked toward her.

“Did I ask you to strip?” She pointed to the bed again. “On your back.”

Dak stood nearly nose to nose with her, inhaling her intoxicating scent and trying to read the look in her eyes. No question, Rebekah meant business.