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Chapter Six

Morning light bled through the sliver between the bedroom curtains. It was golden and cheery. Charlie stretched and wasn’t surprised to find the space in the bed next to her empty. She danced between getting up or lazing awhile longer, but she was itching to see what the weather was doing. She slipped out of bed, naked, and padded across the room, one arm wrapped around her boobs. Indeed, it was glorious out, all crisp golden sun on magical, sparkling overnight snow.

“Beautiful,” Declan spoke as he came back into the bedroom, carrying two cups on saucers. Tea, how does he think of everything?

“It is beautiful outside. It snowed,” Charlie commented, shifting to find a way to hide, suddenly feeling naked.

“Come back to bed, Charlotte. I made us some tea.”

Charlie climbed back onto the bed and settled into the sheets, pulling the navy down comforter about her torso, and tucking it under her arms.

Declan sat on the side of the bed, looking at her adoringly, and handed her a cup. It smelled like Earl Grey, and there was an amazingly thin lemon slice waltzing in the center.

“I didn’t think to ask before, but are you involved with someone?” His question seemed so absurd to Charlie she had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.

“No, of course not.”

“That’s welcome news, Charlotte. I am not really in the mood to deal with a jealous suitor.”

“Are you ever in the mood for that?”

Declan grinned. “Not even on my best day.”

“How about you? Am I about to get my eyes clawed out by some politician’s daughter?”

Declan’s eyes grew wide, and then he smiled. “No. Spoiled brats are not my style. Too demanding. So, let me ask you something, Charlotte. You seemed to understand my demands quite well last night. Have you been a submissive before?”

Charlie nodded and cast her gaze down to her lap.

“Is it too personal for you to talk about?”

“No. Just a little painful. I was in college. I was being trained, but I ended it.”

Declan nodded. A look of concern crept across his face. Charlie instantly felt remorseful about talking about it and tried to remedy the situation. “It feels like ages ago now. It just wasn’t the best situation.”

“It seems like it changed you. You seem to be unsure of yourself in your work, but you are really very good at what you do.”

Charlie nodded. She couldn’t figure out if his perceptive side was bothersome because what he’d said was true, or because it was more than she wanted to dredge up.

“Forgive me, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Declan reached for her hand and pulled her clenched fist into his warm palm. “I’m not judging you. I just want to know you more, but I won’t push you or make you feel uncomfortable.”

Declan ran his thumb over her knuckles, and Charlie relaxed and loosened her fist. He was smiling at her as his thumb wriggled its way into her half-closed palm.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to pity me.”

“Pity? Is that what you think I am showing you?”

“Well, you’re just being so gentle and kind. I wanted you to know you don’t have to be for my sake. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“Kind? Really?” Declan’s voice grew deeper as though he were talking to himself. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but I think you’re the first person to call me that.” Declan sighed, frowning at Charlie, all the while holding her hand. “, we aren’t doing this because I pity you. Nor am I bedding you out of the kindness of my heart.”

“Why then? Why me? I’m not exactly your type.”

“Because I want to. I never do anything I don’t want to do.” He took Charlie’s tea from her and set it on the nightstand next to the bed. “You’re not my type? So what exactly is my type? Tell me, because I am dying to know.”

“I … I don’t know. Some drop-dead gorgeous girl with a killer body, I’m sure.”

“And you don’t think you are any of those things?”

She shrugged and looked around the room. She wanted to escape his questioning.

Declan leaned closer. “Where is this coming from?”

“What?” Charlie’s voice was approaching that defensive octave her voice went to when she felt cornered.

“This gross misconception you have of yourself. Did your previous boyfriend do this to you?”

“No. How could he? He’s long gone.” Even as Charlie spoke, she felt sickened by the words that left her mouth. They were lies. Declan was so close to drawing out the most personal thing she could imagine about herself. She held on to it like some sort of twisted security blanket. If she said it aloud, Declan would see her for what she truly was. The spell would be broken. He’d see things the way she did, and she couldn’t stand the thought of that. She wanted desperately to hold on to this fantasy for a while longer.

Declan sighed and spoke gently. “I think people can have a long-lasting impact on us if we give them that power. It’s especially true if we love them and they hurt us in some way. Is that what happened?”

Holy Mother of God! He is so right it is starting to scare me. Charlie trembled, nodding her agreement, but it felt more as if she was waving a white flag.

“Well, you were the one to end it. I am sure part of him still cares for you. I’m certain he’d rather be sitting here with you if he could.”

Of course I ended it. He wounded me terribly. I didn’t get out of bed for weeks. Charlie knew she needed to set Declan straight. The last thing she needed was Declan thinking she was certifiably nuts.

Realization crept slowly across Declan’s face. Immediately followed by its sad friend, pity. Charlie wanted to crawl into a little ball, or better still, disappear. She tugged her hand free from his grasp, and then looked into his eyes. Pity exited through the door unceremoniously as anger crashed the party. “Charlotte, don’t you dare.” His tone was laced with warning. She knew instantly what he meant.

He knows I want to run as if I am training for a marathon.

“I just can’t take you looking at me as though I am some wounded bird, okay. So, just stop.”

“Charlotte, I’m not. I know that’s not you.”

Charlie scoffed and turned away. Declan grabbed a hold of her hand again. “Charlotte, stop that this instant. You will look at me when I am speaking with you.” He spoke in a controlled voice. “Listen to me, Charlotte. I can’t help it if that horse’s ass made the wrong choices. I am not him, Charlotte. Do you understand me? I would never treat you with such disrespect.” Declan drew a deep breath and continued. “This shouldn’t be difficult. Your past is just that. In the past. I am quite fond of you, and I want us to forge a good relationship. I find you to be a brilliant, sensitive, beautiful woman, even if you are a bit stubborn and feisty.”

“But, you can’t possibly know that from one evening together.”

“Why? Because I don’t know every detail of your life? Charlotte, I know I want you. I know you want me, and I know that I bring out your submissive nature, even though you try to run from who you really are. You could keep trying to run and push me away, or you could just allow me to take control and spend more time with me. Do you think that’s possible? Because if you do, please for the love of all things good, stop pushing me away and making me feel like I need to slap the restraints on you to keep you here.”

Charlie’s eyes widened at the thought. And then she laughed.

Declan laughed with her. “Or maybe I should.”

***

They slept tangled in sheets as the night overshadowed the day. After their talk, Charlie and Declan had spent all of Saturday in the hotel suite. Up briefly for room service, they quickly fell back into the bed after Declan had smeared the blackberry jam across Charlie’s collarbone and down her breasts and devoured her. They napped, read the paper, laughed, made love again, showered, ate a light dinner, and then fell back into bed. Their Master and Submissive side to their fledging relationship seemed to have a healthy balance with their regular selves. They instinctively flowed in and out of both sets of personas naturally as they grew more familiar with each other. Charlie’s body was sore, but she wasn’t done with Declan’s yet. Charlie smiled, looking at him. She sighed. The sliver of moonlight bathed his face, making him look softer, more boyish. Charlie rose, pulled the curtains shut, and crawled carefully back into bed.