At least he didn’t cost me any money. Just my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I can’t wait to get home. Bone weary, Tony found his car in long-term parking and threw his bags in the trunk before getting in. He didn’t have the luxury of sleeping in a little that morning before his flight because of last-minute issues cropping up in the Denver data center. For a couple of hours, it was doubtful he’d even make his flight, until they finally got things straightened out.
Since it was just before midnight on a Sunday, he gave silent thanks there wouldn’t be any traffic jams to deal with on his drive home from Tampa.
Although it sucked knowing he had to go in to work the next morning. He had too many backlogged issues to deal with there to even think about taking time off.
When he looked over at the passenger seat, he froze. Shayla’s collar still lay where he’d left it that morning two weeks earlier, before he went to Denver. He’d forgotten to take it into his house.
He picked it up and fingered it. The lump welling in his throat surprised him.
Life had felt relatively empty since heading to Denver, and he wouldn’t deny it. It wasn’t due to the trip, living out of a suitcase in a damn hotel, or not having a moment of free time when he wasn’t working.
Leah’s harsh words to him over the phone played through his mind.
I am an asshat.
“Dammit.” He put the collar down and pointed his car south. He reached Sarasota a little over an hour later. Instead of getting off at his exit at Bee Ridge Road, he continued south, to Clark Road, which would lead him straight to her apartment. His original plan had been to call her first thing in the morning.
He couldn’t wait. He’d waited two damn weeks with his heart on hold, and he had to know, tonight, where he stood with her. Or if he even had a chance with her.
At the very least he had to apologize to her for not being in touch.
The complex lay dark and quiet when he pulled in and shut the car off. No lights shone behind the blinds in her unit, but her car sat parked in its usual spot.
He grabbed the collar, got out and locked the doors, and marched up to her door. She didn’t have a doorbell, so he knocked.
He glanced around as he waited, but there wasn’t any response despite his knocking sounding loud to him. He tried again, this time pounding on the door nearly as hard as his pulse thundered through his veins while he yelled her name.
Shayla awoke from a deep sleep and lay in bed, disoriented, trying to figure out what woke her. She’d rolled over and closed her eyes again when she heard the pounding on her door.
She grabbed her cell phone from where she’d left it, off and charging, on the bathroom counter. Grateful for the fact that she’d slept in a T-shirt that night, she silently padded out to the foyer without turning on any lights. A third round of pounding made her jump as she approached the door.
“Shayla! Open up, it’s me.”
She froze for a moment before scurrying to the door to squint through the peephole, since she hadn’t grabbed her glasses. Sure enough, Tony Daniels stood on her front stoop.
Her fingers fumbled at the locks, but she got them open and threw the door wide to stare at him in shock. He stepped in, forcing her back, and closed and locked the door behind him. Walking forward until she was pressed against the foyer wall, he stared down at her.
“I don’t want to end this,” he said.
She blinked, feeling the air rush out of her lungs. “What?”
He reached behind her, fisted her hair, and gently forced her head back so she had to look him in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” he softly said. “I got busy and that’s no excuse. I should have been texting you every day and calling you every night. I don’t want to end this. I do not want to lose you. I can’t lose you, because you’re the best damn thing to ever happen to me.”
Then he leaned in and kissed her, on the lips, devouring her with a hunger her soul instantly recognized and returned. Her arms clutched at him, afraid this was the dream and that she’d open her eyes to find herself alone again and suffering the effects of some crappy microbrewery swill.
When he lifted his lips from hers, she let out a whimper of protest, not wanting to lose the contact with him.
His gaze searched her face. “I’m not just talking about dating or being play partners. I’m talking I want you as mine. My slave. I want to own you. If you want it, too, I need to hear it from you. I won’t play games. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, but I didn’t want you to think I was pushing you. I didn’t want to change the rules on you and break your trust. I thought if you wanted to stay together you’d say something sooner, but Leah told me I apparently gave you the wrong impression. I do not think you are clingy. But I do need you to tell me if you want this or not.”
She nodded, so hard she thought her neck might break.
That damn, sexy smile curled his lips. “That’s not what I meant, pet.”
Her heart exploded at the term of endearment. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Yes!”
“You have to say it. You have to ask me for it.”
“I don’t want this to end. Please, I don’t want to lose you.”
He didn’t reply, his brow eventually furrowing. It took her a moment that she blamed on being yanked from a sound beer-induced sleep to realize her mistake. “Please, Sir, I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to lose you, Sir. I want to be yours, Sir. In all ways. I want you to own me.”
That was when his entire face relaxed as if a huge weight had lifted from him. He released her hair and cradled her cheeks with both palms and kissed her on the lips again, gently, sweetly.
Lovingly.
“My sweet, beautiful, pet,” he whispered. “God, I missed you.”
She realized he held something in one of his hands, and he quickly buckled that something around her neck.
She let out a relieved sob at the feel of the collar encircling her throat. She closed her eyes and buried her face against his chest, where they stood like that for several minutes until he silently led her to the bedroom.
He pulled off her shirt and studied her face in the dim light cast by the nightlight in the hall. “I love you, pet.”
“I love you, too, Sir.”
He pointed to the floor. She sank to her knees and kissed his feet, the backs of his hands, nuzzled her face against the front of his slacks where his cock bulged.
He held out his arms without another word. Instinctively, she stood and set to work unbuttoning his shirt and removing it. His undershirt, then his slacks after he’d kicked off his loafers. His socks and briefs. And while he was hard, when she tried to kiss his cock, he fisted her hair again and made her stand.
“No,” he softly said. “Not tonight. I need to sleep, and so do you. It’s nearly two o’clock and we both have to go to work in the morning.” He made her get into bed and crawled in behind her, spooning her, his arm draped over her.
“Go to sleep, pet,” he whispered against the nape of her neck. “We have the rest of our lives together.”
She felt his cock eventually soften from where it pressed against her ass as his breathing slowed and deepened. She thought there was no way in hell she’d be able to sleep as happy as she felt, but then a soft, gentle darkness overtook her.
She awoke before her alarm the next morning. When she felt the warm heat of Tony’s body pressed against her, the night’s events came rushing back with crystal clarity. Craning her head, she saw his eyes were already open.