Sawyer clenched his jaw and struggled to maintain an even, conciliatory tone. “Is that all you think BDSM is? I’m not Young and I’m not asking you to be Isabel. I have different needs and wants than they do, but you’ll never know what those needs are because you’re too afraid - like I was; like most people are of what they don’t know.”
“What they do is disgusting,” she said in a voice that seemed to come from a long way off, her statement finally piercing his composure.
When Sawyer responded, there was an edge to his voice and his tone became chilly. “What Isabel and Young have is beautiful and sincere, and there’s nothing disgusting about it.”
Sonya’s tear-filled eyes scanned his face earnestly. “I know you hold them in high regard and near to your heart, but they’ve manipulated you into thinking this is all okay when it’s not. They’ve influenced you…”
“Enough,” he warned as he stood. She had no right to point fingers when it came to what she perceived as manipulation and there was no way in hell he would allow her to speak so harshly about the people whom he considered family.
She nodded in agreement and pushed herself off the couch angrily and answered in a rush of words, “You’re right; it is enough. No one can say I didn’t try to change your mind. I thought by telling you I was seeing someone else you might see things differently, but I can see this is going nowhere.”
Gripping onto her upper arm, Sawyer pulled Sonya back just as she made it to the door.
“So you lied about seeing someone?” Blinking rapidly, her cheeks reddened and her eyes averted his gaze, giving away her guilt and he felt like he had been punched in the stomach. His mouth set into a straight line. “So who’s doing the manipulating now?” She swallowed hard and her eyebrows pinched together in shame. “It’s not your place to try and change my mind about my decisions. It never has been,” he rebutted in a clipped voice that forbade any further discussion.
A tense silence enveloped the room and they stood staring into each other’s eyes for several awkward moments. It really was over. Sawyer couldn’t grasp the reality of it fully until he saw the empty look in Sonya’s eyes. She wasn’t going to change her mind. Not now. Not ever.
Tired of the silence looming between them like a heavy mist, he loosened his grasp on her arm and grabbed her face fiercely; kissing her like it was the last kiss of a dying man. And that’s exactly what it was – the final kiss of a man whose heart had died a little. Their tongues danced inside each other’s mouth briefly and the familiarity of her taste tore at his heart. Sonya’s body softened and a stray tear rolled down her cheek. Pulling away, he stared down into her sad gray eyes and swept away the hot tear with his thumb.
Sawyer’s voice dropped in volume and faded to a hushed stillness. “No matter where life takes us, I’ll always be here for you if you need me.”
Sonya stepped out of his reach and opened the door. With one last withering look over her shoulder, Sawyer inhaled a deep breath. Only when the door closed behind her did he let it out. It was over. It was really fucking over.
Chapter 8
The week had been difficult for Sawyer. Things were finally over with Sonya, and even though he hadn’t had a lot of contact with her for many months, it didn’t make it any easier to accept. Based on the way she had reacted and her harsh criticism about things she knew nothing about, Sawyer could understand on some small level how Dylan and Isabel must have felt facing everyone’s cruel and judgmental words when their private lives were aired for the world to see.
He coped with Sonya’s loss the way he did when he lost Serena; by keeping his head down and busying himself with work. The only difference this time around was he didn’t rely on Jack Daniels to help him forget his pain.
The task of digging up all the dirt he could on Emilio’s business partners was a welcome chore, and it was proving to be worthwhile. The main culprit in contesting the disbursement of Mr. Ibanez’s funds had some pretty nasty skeletons in his closet that might persuade him to rethink his decision.
After a meeting with a potential new client, Dylan sauntered in grinning from ear-to-ear.
“Boy, have I got plans for you tonight, Morrison.”
Sawyer looked up, less than amused. “Oh?”
“A friend from out of town called and he’s paying us a visit. He’s impatient to see me and Isa’s stomping grounds. When I told him about your training, he was excited to offer his assistance. He’s a master of the bullwhip and…”
“What the hell?” Sawyer swung his head back further to look at Dylan and grunted with utter disbelief. He had been practicing with the short flogger at home for a week on his bedroom wall and had just gotten comfortable wielding that, but a bullwhip? No way. No way in hell.
Sawyer glared at Dylan. “I hope that’s a joke. I’ve barely learned the basics of working the flogger. You can’t expect me to move onto something like a bullwhip this soon.”
Dylan pushed his dark hair off his forehead revealing the roguish gleam in his light blue eyes. “Oh, simmer down. It won’t kill you to give it a try. You don’t have to slash and burn to enjoy the whip. Just ask Isa. She was scared out of her mind when she first saw it, but now… just mentioning it gets her all hot and juicy. Anyway, we’ll take it slow.”
He rolled his eyes and huffed. Surely not slow enough for his tastes. And damn if those two weren’t like two peas in a pod. Hot and juicy over a bullwhip? It was unimaginable. “I’d say you two were a match made in heaven, but somehow that doesn’t sound quite right. You’re more like a match made in kinky purgatory.”
Dylan laughed heartily. “Damn straight we were made for each other. Isa has even wielded it herself.”
“No shit? Isn’t it longer in length than she is tall?” he chuckled.
Dylan paused, his eyes becoming unfocused and his voice drifting off as if thinking back on some fond memory. “It didn’t stop her from whipping my ass.”
Sawyer stared back with complete astonishment on his face. “You let her whip you?”
“It was our honeymoon and she was going through some difficult shit. I knew she was struggling for control, so yeah, I let her whip me. And it was fucking amazing.”
He would never ever get used to the idea of Dylan being a submissive. He had never actually witnessed it but knew that behind closed dungeon doors, they were both switches.
“So who’s this friend?” he asked, changing the subject quickly.
“Luke Bastille. He’s an interesting character. Anyway, I thought we could practice at home a bit before going to the club later. Isa’s all wound up about it and has an impromptu dinner party planned with some fun in the dungeon for dessert. Maybe Sonya would be more comfortable experimenting at our place instead of the club.”
He sighed and shook his head. “That’s never going to happen. Besides the fact that she’s not even remotely open to anything BDSM, we ended things Saturday night.”
Dylan pinched his eyebrows together and looked genuinely cheerless. “Shit, Morrison, I’m sorry to hear that. Well, I’m sure Sarah would love to join you. Isa would probably like that better anyway.”
“Yes, I’ll call her right now. Thanks, Young, for everything.”
“Don’t go getting all sappy on me, bro,” Dylan rolled his eyes.
“Bro?” Sawyer asked, raising his eyebrows at Dylan.
“Don’t you know? You and I are embroiled in a bromance.”
Sawyer’s body stiffened and his voice rose in surprise. “Don’t I have a say in the matter?”
“No and neither do I, it was Isabel’s assessment of the situation. But you know it’s true. You can’t quit me,” he added with a slight smile of boldness.