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“Good. You deserve to be pleasured. I only wish… anyway, I should get back to work.”

“Practice that which you preach, Snowflake. Speak your mind.” He wasn’t about to let Sarah’s half-statement go unnoticed.

She sighed and fumbled with the phone. “I wish it had been me,” she whispered.

“Do you really?” he asked, wishing he could see her face as he was unsure of her tone.

“Yes and no. Yes, because I want to experience all of you and no because…”

He understood where her angst was coming from; she was still grieving. So was he. He had never gotten over his wife’s loss. Hell, he barely made it through intact. It didn’t matter how many women came after her or the time that passed, he would never get over her and he didn’t expect Sarah to fare any better, especially considering how intense her bond with her Master was.

“You don’t have to say anymore. Someday when you’re feeling comfortable, you will experience all of me. We have plenty of time to get there.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Sawyer was taken aback at Sarah calling him Sir. She hadn’t done it since the first time they met. “I hope you’re not calling me that out of some sort of misguided sense of obligation.”

“You’ve earned the title Sir by being respectful and patient with me, and I never do or say anything out of obligation to those who don’t deserve it.”

* * *

With Sarah still on his mind, Sawyer readied for bed. He made plans to meet with her the following Friday for dinner at his place and he looked forward to talking more about BDSM and her experiences. He couldn’t deny that he also wanted to see her for more than just business. It was her eyes that he was most looking forward to seeing. And her curves. And her smile. He shook his head and chuckled at himself. All of her.

After changing into sweat pants and a t-shirt, his intercom buzzed. Looking at his wall clock he wondered who would be visiting him after 11:00 p.m. He began to reach into his briefcase for the handgun that he kept for protection when Sonya’s voice came over the speaker. He hadn’t spoken to her since making his offer of taking her to the club and was surprised at her late-night visit.

She entered his large condo and promptly began to pace the living room, making Sawyer feel uneasy. She was keyed up about something and clearly had something on her mind though he couldn’t imagine what was so important to discuss at such a late hour. His imagination was in overdrive trying to read her agonized expression.

“We need to talk,” she stated, her brows drawing together.

Without saying anything, he motioned her to the sofa where she sat on the edge, not making eye contact or removing her coat.

“What’s wrong, Sonya?” he asked, standing in front of her, his hands on his hips.

“How serious are you about this whole BDSM thing?”

An eyebrow shot up and he stared down at her warily. “What do you mean?”

A secretive smile softened Sonya’s lips and she batted her eyelashes up at him. “I mean is there a chance that this is just a passing phase or that you’ll change your mind?”

The question was a stab at his heart.  A muscle quivered in Sawyer’s jaw when Sonya grabbed his hands and ran her thumbs over the tops of them.  She was at her old trick of topping from the bottom and a flicker of irritation coursed through him. It was strange how obvious it was to him now that he knew there was a name for her actions.

“My mind has been expanded by these new experiences and can never go back to the old dimensions that it once was, Sonya. So, no, it’s not a passing phase. Where are you going with this?”

Crestfallen, she whispered, “I’ve started seeing someone this week.”

Sawyer seated himself next to her not immediately knowing how to respond. He was filled with hurt, anger and jealousy, but knew he had no right to be considering he had his fingers buried in another woman’s pussy and her lips wrapped around his cock only hours before. But that was different. He was scening and learning to be a Dom for both their benefit and had no emotional attachment to Kate.

“I’ll fight for love, but I won’t compete for it,” he stated bluntly, his eyes stabbing into her.

She blinked rapidly and her mouth popped open. “I’m not asking you to compete.”

“Then what? Are you asking for my permission?” he snarled with quiet emphasis.

Hers eyes darted to his and she huffed, her low silky voice holding a note of sarcasm. “Of course not. I don’t need your permission.”

Perhaps he was getting a little too used to Sarah asking for his approval for everything because Sonya’s words quickly agitated him. He liked being asked for consent.

He leaned back and crossed his arms. “Then why are you telling me about it?”

“Because I care about you and need to know if there’s still a chance for us.”

Reaching out, he touched her arm. He wanted there to be a chance if only…“I want you to come with me to the club, Sonya.”

She shook her head and looked away, her face suddenly turning grim.

“If there’s a possibility that someday soon you’ll reconsider, I can wait for you. But there are things I need to tell you, first.”

She turned her body towards him, her eyes rounded. “Like what?”

It was go time. He still stilled cared for Sonya, even loved her on some level, and he knew that if things were going to work out for them, he had to come clean of all his past offenses and do as Sarah had told him – honestly communicate.

“My past,” he said with the certainty of a man who could never be satisfied with living withdrawn anymore.

Sonya swallowed loudly and licked her dry lips tensely. “You’ve never wanted to talk about it before.”

“I know, but I told you that I’m working on being more open.”

She began to pick at her acrylic nails fretfully. “What kind of things do you want to tell me about?”

“Things I did when I worked for the CIA. Things I’m neither proud nor ashamed of.”

Her grey eyes suddenly grew dubious. “If you’re not ashamed of them, then why wait to tell me?”

Sawyer considered his words carefully before answering. “Because they’re the sort of things that people are judged harshly for.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Sonya shook her head. “Sawyer, wait… I’m not sure I want you to tell me. I mean, we’ve done okay without me knowing. Can’t we just start where we left off?”

“You mean with secrets and dishonesty?” he asked incredulously.

“I was never dishonest with you,” she came back with.

“But I was dishonest by keeping secrets from you. I did the same thing with my wife and it was wrong. I don’t want to live that way anymore.” His face was bleak with sorrow and his statement never more heartfelt.

Sonya snapped, her normally elegant face contorting into something unattractive and her body stiffening. “This is ridiculous. This whole BDSM thing has gotten out of control and those people at that club are brain washing you. You’re fine just the way you are, Sawyer Morrison, and some things are best left unsaid!”

“You’re never going to the club with me, are you?” he asked softly when he came to the realization that Sonya had no interest in living the kind of life he wanted to live.

“Please, Sawyer. Those people…” she pleaded.

“Stop. Those people have taught me more about myself in the last few weeks than anyone has in the last twenty years. I want to share that with you,” he told her with conviction, silently praying that she would change her mind.

Looking away as if disgusted, she let out a pitiful sob. “I just can’t. I want you, but not like that. I’ve seen Dylan and Isabel’s videos. I don’t want to bow at your feet and be whipped and leashed,” she choked out.