"I know." He reached out to take my hand and squeezed it before I could pull it away. "How do you think I feel? Your father actually likes me. You don't know how much that means to me." Finally, he let go of my hand and glanced quickly at me.
I really didn’t know what to say.
"I know you and he don't really get along well," Drake said softly. "But he's like the father I wish I’d had. My own father was so self-absorbed and away from home so much that I always felt as if I was just not important enough. He was always, 'Hey, I love you man,' but I never felt it. If he had loved me, why was he always away?"
He said nothing for a moment as we sat at a stoplight. "Your father is maybe too involved in your life but as someone who felt neglected, I envy you that. When I met your father at my dad's funeral, he took me under his wing immediately because he and my dad were such good friends. So, if he found out about me…" He shook his head. "I've read some of his judgments. I know what he's like."
"And yet you like him."
"He's like a second father to me. He's smart and competent and powerful and has so much history with my dad. And he likes me, Kate."
We arrived at my apartment and when the car stopped I got out and started walking up the steps. He followed me quickly to the door.
"Kate." He took my arm and tried to turn me to face him. "Don't run away. I want to talk. Straighten this out between us."
"There's nothing to straighten out. We're square, OK? Let's just go our separate ways."
As usual, someone had propped open the door to the building so their cousin or uncle or homey could come in. I opened the door and kicked the piece of cardboard aside that was holding it open, my hands shaking just a bit. I went inside and of course, he followed me before the door closed.
I glared at his chin. "You said you wouldn't come in."
"You said you'd talk to me."
"I did."
"Kate…" He put his arm out and stopped me before I reached the stairs, his hand on the wall. I stood there and stared at the leather strap on his wrist.
I waited. He kept his arm like that.
"Are you really going to try to stop me from going upstairs?"
"I want to keep talking."
"Is this what Dominants do? Always try to control things?"
"Yes." He exhaled heavily. "I like control Kate. I'm a Dom. It's what I do."
I stood there staring at his arm, at that darned leather strap with ornate carving in it.
"I'm listening."
"Write up an agreement, include anything you want in it, any terms, and I'll sign."
I considered, stalling for time so I didn’t have to answer. "What is that?" I pointed to the strap. "Is it some kind of kinky bondage thing?"
He let his arm drop and fingered the leather strap.
"This?" He twisted it on his wrist so that the carving was on top. "No, it's not some kinky bondage thing, although I do have a real leather fetish." He smiled as he stared at the strap, running his finger over the carving. "I love leather, how it feels and smells, and how really fine hide warms when it's against naked skin. I make my subs wear leather corset dresses, naked underneath, but I'm thinking of adding in a garter belt and black stockings with a seam in the back." He grinned at me. "And thigh high leather stiletto boots when we go to fetish parties, but maybe in your case, I'd settle for shorter heels..."
I couldn't hold back a grin and turned my head away. "Not fair," I said, trying desperately not to like him.
"What?"
"You trying to make me like you."
He laughed out loud. "See? You do like me."
I said nothing for a moment, trying to get my face under control. Beside me, Drake cleared his throat and continued.