His gaze searched her face. “What are you asking?”
The past forty-eight hours had been the most sexually satisfying of her life, and more than that, she was comfortable with him in a way she’d never been with anyone—in the scene or in vanilla life. The feeling that was making her stomach churn was fear. Fear of losing him.
“You said I was yours until Sunday.”
“Yes.”
Why was he being so distant, why was he making this hard on her?
Well, the one thing she wouldn’t forget, wouldn’t go back to, was staying quiet about what she wanted.
She pulled the sheet up over her chest, needing the courage that came with not being exposed. “We’re not done with our checklist.”
Finally, he smiled. “We’re not?”
“No.”
“And what do you think we missed?”
“Several things, actually, but there’s one I want.” It felt good to state her desires so simply.
“And what do you want?”
“A collar.” Beth smiled. Collar was on their list, and if he collared her they would play together every time they were at the club. She’d hadn’t been the kind of sub he favored on Friday afternoon, but he’d showed her that she actually enjoyed submitting to someone like him far more than she enjoyed submitting to a stricter Master. They made a good pair, and she was sure that he was as aware of it as she was.
James’s smile disappeared.
Beth knew how inappropriate it was for a sub to ask to be collared, knew that even beyond that it was crazy of her to ask this after only a weekend together, but she knew what she wanted. She wasn’t going to risk spending any more time dissatisfied because she didn’t break this one rule and ask for what she wanted.
When James said nothing Beth tried to explain, to make him understand why she was asking this. “Submitting to you is unlike anything of my other experiences. I came to BDSM for the rules, but you showed me that they’re not the important part. That I can be a good sub, that I can be comfortable and not worry if I’m acting the right way even without them. I trust you. I know it’s only been one weekend, but I know what I want.”
It was her first ever heartfelt speech, and Beth was rather proud of it. Maybe it wasn’t the sort of thing that would ever end up in a Hollywood movie, but she’d been honest and said exactly what she wanted to say. The fear that had made her feel sick was gone, replaced by a lightness she identified as hope.
“No.”
And just like that the sick feeling was back, but now it wasn’t fear. It was a slimy ball of emotions she couldn’t fully name.
Beth looked down at the white sheet, tears making everything blurry. She touched her face. She never cried.
“You asked about my hard limits. Well, that’s one of them.”
Without another word he went into the bathroom and closed the door. Beth slipped from the bed, pulled on the long white robe, and left.
An hour later Beth stepped out of the showers in the Subs’ Garden. The locker room was precisely that—with large wooden lockers the subs could store their things in, but the room was plush, with fresh flowers on the marble counters and delicate padded dressing chairs eliminating any possibility of a gym feel.
Dropping the towel in the bin by the door, she made her way through the smattering of other subs to her assigned locker. There was an envelope taped to the front.
Ripping it off, she pulled out the single sheet of paper. It was a copy of her checklist, the page that included the letter C items. Retreating to one of the chairs, Beth dropped down and looked at the list. Cages, chains, chastity belts, chores, clothespins, clamps, cock worship, corset, and cuffs all had checkmarks beside them. Lines were drawn through cattle prod, cells, collars, and cock rings—they must be James’s hard limits. The only items that were neither crossed off nor checked were choking and caning.
Beth stared at the two unmarked items. This must have come from him, but there were no directions, no indication of what he was trying to say.
Folding the list, she got dressed, then tucked the paper into her purse. There was only one logical conclusion. James was telling her that they weren’t done, that there were two items on their list they’d have to address.
Funny, but right now that didn’t arouse her. It pissed her off.
Chapter Nine
He should have hacked into the Las Palmas records, looked up her number, called, and apologized. James paced, hoping to hell Beth showed up this weekend, that she’d seen the list he’d impulsively left her and her rule-following tendencies would push her to come back so they could finish. He hadn’t originally planned to deal with caning or choking. Though they weren’t on his hard limits list, they weren’t things that particularly interested him, and unlike Beth? he had no problem ignoring rules when it suited him.