“Okay. Now I want you to listen. Lawrence isn’t mad. I’m not mad, not at you. But this situation has to stop. You can’t work at a bar three nights a week until three in the morning, especially if bar fights are going to land you in the hospital with eight stitches in your head. You’re supposed to be dancing for Lawrence. For me. This other stuff is—” He made an impatient gesture. “Don’t you have any family to help you? Any cheaper place to live?”
“I’ve asked. Everyone already has roommates. I could probably find a cheaper place farther out, but I don’t want to take the subway at night—and I can’t afford a car—” She sighed and dropped her head in her hands. “And my mom… I just can’t…”
“Why not?”
Prosper rubbed her eyes. “Please. I don’t want to think about it—”
“You need to think about it. You need to find a place to live.”
“I have a place to live.”
“A safe place. Your building is pretty much a few weeks away from being condemned.”
She looked up at Jackson. “Just please stop looking at me that way.”
“What way?”
“Like I’m a total fuckup. I know I am. And you witnessing all of it only makes it worse.”
“Prosper—”
“I don’t want to stop dancing. I don’t want to leave New York. I’ll figure it out. I just need some time—”
“Prosper—”
“What?”
“Come live with me for a while. Until you get back on your feet.”
She went very still, shocked that he would suggest it. She wanted so much to jump at his offer, but at the same time she had so many questions and doubts. How would it work? Did he really want her to move in? Was he just guilty about what had happened? She tried to phrase a coherent response to his suggestion, but only garbled questions came out.
“But I… What… How…”
“There would be some things to work out. Obviously. But it seems like the most logical thing to do under the circumstances. I’m tired of worrying about you, and you’re working way too hard. And to be honest, I would enjoy having more time with you. Outside of work.”
“More time?” He wanted more time with her. She tried not to look too excited about that in the face of his casual tone. “Playtime, you mean?”
He shrugged and looked away. “If that’s what you want to call it. You-and-me time. But the rest of the time is my time. You can move in, but I’m not going to play the happy nice boyfriend, okay? And it goes both ways. You don’t have to spend any more time with me than you want to.”
“So we would be like roommates with benefits?”
He chuckled. “Sure. I guess.”
“I… well… I don’t want to put you out. When we started all this, you said no commitment. I know you don’t really want a roommate.”
He was quiet a moment before he answered her. “You’re right. A roommate isn’t exactly what I want. But it’s unfair to ask you for the other thing. Not as a condition to move in, anyway.”
“What other thing?”
He took a deep breath. “A deeper relationship. On the D/s side. More in-depth interaction.”
“More in-depth interaction? Meaning what?”
“More obedience, more pain, more restrictions, more intimacy. More everything, Prosper. For better or worse, you make me crave more. But I’m not going to pin that on as a requirement of room and board. I’m allowing you to move in as a friend, as someone who has an interest in your well-being. The rest…” He shrugged. “That would be up to you.”
She hesitated only a moment. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes to more. I want more too.”
He frowned. “You just had a head injury, and you’re in a hospital bed. You might not be thinking things through as well as you should.”
“No, I know I want more. If you show me, if you explain to me what you want—”
He put a finger over her lips. “First things first. You need to get yourself better. We’ll get you moved in, and then you need to recuperate and rest. Seven days of bed rest, the doctor said, before you try any strenuous dancing again. Or any strenuous decisions. Okay? Seven days. I should make it two weeks, but I suppose I don’t have much more self-control than you.”
Prosper stared at the clear blue eyes across from her, the usually stern face that had relaxed suddenly into easier lines. Or was it only that she knew him better, to see the ease around his mouth, his eyes?
“What?” he asked.
“Thank you, Jackson. For a place to stay. For being here now.”
He shrugged, squeezed her hand again. “Just remember, it’s not completely unselfish. None of this is completely unselfish.”
Prosper shrugged too and said, “It never is.”
Jackson had helped her home, carried her up the last two flights of stairs when she was too tired to climb them herself. To her amazement he hadn’t even been winded at the top. He’d helped her get settled into bed, tucking the sheets around her closely. His careful protectiveness fueled the slow burn in her heart—and her more private parts too. He’d told her to rest, that he’d return later to help her pack. His exact words were, “Do not dare try to do it yourself.” She’d packed a little anyway when she found she couldn’t lie still. She’d fallen back into bed a half hour later wishing she’d obeyed Jackson. By the time he returned, her head felt better, but he scowled at the small boxes of belongings.
“I told you to rest.”
“I know. I got bored.”
In the space of a second, he was across her bedroom and in her face.
“You got bored? That’s enough of an excuse, girl? What did I tell you to do?”
“Rest,” she whispered.
“Rest, Sir.”
“Rest, Sir,” she managed despite the sudden erratic beating of her heart. “You told me to rest. I’m sorry.”
“If you want more, Prosper, you’ll have to give more. You’ll have to keep your mind on what I want, not your own needs.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He put a hand to her forehead. “How do you feel? Any fever? Dizziness, headache?”
“A small headache, nothing bad. The nurse said I might have them off and on for a few days.”
“If it gets worse, you’ll let me know.” It was an order.
“Yes, Sir.”
He finished packing the boxes for her. It both thrilled and embarrassed her to watch him handling her things, all her things, down to her toiletries, her pajamas, her naughty bras and panties. She blushed at the intimacy, but he was very businesslike about it. While he carried her things downstairs, she wrote a check for two weeks’ rent to the landlord to close her lease. With any luck there would be units available when her time at Jackson’s house was finished, but she didn’t want to dwell on that just now. She wanted to enjoy every moment she had with him and not worry about what came after.
At his house, he brought in her things while she watched from the sofa. She thought of the early days when she’d come over, of the time he’d bent her over that same couch and spanked her with his belt. When would he touch her again? He seemed determined that she rest, but she was in anything but a restful mood.
He made a light dinner of chicken and salad, and they ate it together at his small dinette. The apartment was dark as always, the only faint light the fixture over their heads. She joked that he lived like a vampire, afraid of light and sun. He looked back at her.
“Perhaps. And you’re coming to stay with me. Here in my lair.” He reached out for a lock of her hair. “Little sunshine,” he said in a quiet voice.
She looked up at him in the dim light. She was so in love. So desperately in love with him. And the way he was looking at her… His eyes looked darker than usual, more intent. He didn’t let go of her hair, only caught a greater handful and twisted it in his fist. “You didn’t obey me earlier, girl.”