She smiled. “Seriously,” she said.
“I was serious. Again I ask, what do you want to do?”
She knew the question pertained to the whole Loren and Ross roasting Cris’ chestnuts on a not-so-open fire issue, but she let that drop in lieu of leaning in and kissing Landry. She relaxed into it, enjoying the feel of his arms slipping around her and pulling her to him as she draped hers around his neck.
When she finally lifted her head she found she had trouble catching her breath. “If you fuck half as good as you kiss, you might find yourself getting laid by a woman on a regular basis, gay or not.”
He stroked her back. “Can I ask you a serious question?”
She nodded.
“Did he leave you with triggers set?”
Her face reddened and she tried to stand, but he wouldn’t let her. “Tilly, please,” he said. “Tell me.”
“Why should I?” Her heart raced. This was a bad, baaaad idea.
“I promise I won’t exploit them. Please?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “I knew I could have had Ross get rid of them for me,” she whispered, “but I didn’t have the heart to.” It surprised her when she broke down crying.
It surprised her even more when she let Landry draw her close, comforting, holding her, soothing her. “Is that why you never dated?”
“No,” she sniffled. “I never met anyone worth dating before Bob.” She didn’t want to think about Bob now. She felt badly about him, because he would, undoubtedly, be hurt by this turn of events. Especially now that she sensed she was uncomfortably slipping into unknown emotional territory with Landry. “I mean, I knew it wouldn’t stop me from being with anyone else, but…” She sniffled again.
He continued gently stroking her back. “It hurt more to get rid of them than to let them lay dormant,” he quietly said.
“Yeah.” She lifted her head. “How’d you know?”
He sadly smiled. “How do you think Cris learned to place them? He said the same thing when he returned. I think that’s partly why he became a Dom, because he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else topping him without them changing or eliminating his triggers first. He knew because of the way he is that they would have to use triggers on him when playing.”
He had her lay on the couch, her head in his lap, and close her eyes. His voice soothed her, no doubt about it. “Did he use French?” Landry asked.
She nodded, then another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “He learned that from you, too.”
“Oui, ma cherie.”
She laughed.
“Shh.” He stroked her forehead and softly spoke to her. She did trust him not to go back on his word, to not take advantage of her. She let him lead her not into subspace, but into a light trance where she relaxed and let go of her tension under his gentle guidance.
When he started to remove her long-dormant triggers, her pulse suddenly raced, panic setting in. She grabbed his hand as she broke into full consciousness. “No, wait. Stop. I can’t.” She started crying. “Don’t do it. Please don’t do it!”
He quickly gathered her close and held her. “It’s all right, love,” he soothed as she sobbed against him. He stroked her hair. “It’s okay.”
She didn’t want to move. As stupid as she knew it was, she felt safe in his arms. Just more wishful thinking on her part? She didn’t know. That’s when an idea hit. “Set your own,” she said.
“Anchor me to you.”
Landry was glad she had her face buried against his shoulder and couldn’t see the shocked expression he knew he wore. “What?” He couldn’t have heard her right.
“Set your own triggers for me. Leave his and set your own.”
His hand faltered as he stroked her hair. It wouldn’t be difficult. In someone who’d never gone through the process, who wasn’t used to hypnosis and trances and subspace, it usually took a while to accomplish after a bond of trust was established. But she already had triggers.
Deeply engrained ones.
Most people going through what she went though would eventually release them naturally on their own. Yet she still loved Cris. If she’d dated and had relationships with others, her triggers would have faded as she fell in love.
“Why?”
“I’m marrying you.” She poked him in the arm without lifting her face from his shoulder. “This doesn’t mean you can top me like a Dom. But maybe it’ll make Monday night easier on both of us if you use triggers.”
She had a valid point. “How much French do you know?” he asked.
She looked up at him. “Je crois toi. ”
I trust you.
It both warmed his heart and scared the crap out of him. He’d fucked up the first time with Cris.
She’d been through so much, he didn’t want that responsibility with her, didn’t want to destroy what little love and faith remained in her. “That didn’t answer my question.”
“Je parle un peu francais. Not as much as you or Cris, I’m sure.”
He smiled. “Smartass.”
“Oui, monsieur.”
He had to hand it to her, her pronunciation sounded spot-on. Cris was mistaken for a native speaker when he took him to France, and if he’d taught her, it made sense she’d learned the same accent. She had a good ear. No wonder she’d picked up on his accent, even though most people couldn’t tell he had one. He’d worked damn hard to sound like an American.
“Lie down.”
She settled in again, tightly gripping his hand, their fingers laced together. He took her back down into a trance and slowly started working with her, her grip on his hand relaxing as her trance state deepened. He gently stepped around what Cris had done, triggers still embedded unbelievably deep in her mind.
Cris had learned well.
Landry had eagerly studied first NLP, and then later hypnosis, when introduced to it by another Dom before he met Cris. In his youthful egotism, he’d used Cris as his guinea pig with mind-blowing results for both of them.
He shoved those memories out of his mind as he worked with her. She wasn’t lying about trusting him. Considering her past, if she hadn’t trusted him no way would she let him move through her mind like this.
He kept it simple, a few basic things that might make Monday night go more smoothly for both of them. And yet, that guilty pang. Would she want him for him, or because he’d made it easy for her to let go and relax with hypnosis?
Or because she would be handsomely compensated?
He squeezed her hand as he set the triggers, eventually bringing her back up to full conscious.
She lay there, staring up at him with those sweet hazel eyes. He stood, then scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom despite her laughing protests.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to test them, don’t I?” He kissed her, silencing her as she tightened her grip around his neck.
He gently placed her on her bed and climbed in with her, laying on her right, propped up on one arm. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.
Her lower lip had caught under her teeth, betraying her nerves. Her eyes dropped closed.
With a feather-light touch, he trailed his fingers up her left arm. “You’re beautiful, love,” he whispered.
Her body started relaxing under his touch even as her sexual tension ramped up. Her face flushed as her breath quickened.
He drew his fingers down her arm again and laced them through hers. Gently, he guided her hand over her flat tummy to the waistband of her jeans.
He nuzzled her forehead, his lips brushing her flesh. “Open them,” he whispered.