CHAPTER EIGHT
Mary Cait
“What the hell is up with me?” That thought is the most prevalent in my life right now. It’s also the most relevant since it sure as hell feels like everything is out of control. At the moment, I’m at the hotel, cross-legged on my bed stuffing pepperoni and mushroom pizza into my mouth across from Lynda with a y (and yes, I can’t just think of her as Lynda) who is also enjoying pizza. “For fuck’s sake, in just a week I’ll be moving out of the hotel and into the ranch house!”
“That seems like a good thing,” she says with a giggle.
“A good thing? How can you say that?”
She smiles at me and says, “You are so head over heels for Zander and you’re so intent on believing you’re not. You’re just absolutely determined you screw him two days a week and blow him two days a week out of nothing but sexual chemistry.”
I groan and take another bite. It’s kind of strange that this is the best pizza I’ve ever had, that a little pizza parlor in a town like Hopewell Springs can produce this. The reason I groan, of course, is that I suspect she’s right. For the last three months, I’ve watched Zander turn the ranch around. I’ve played a role in making that happen, a role I’m glad I got to play.
And I think about Zander all the time.
And he and I argue all the time.
Hell, we argue while we screw!
She’s wrong about the frequency, though. There’s no comfort in that because I end up with Zander seven days a week. Sometimes, there is sex twice a day. Once, it happened at five in the morning and then after ten and twice more in the afternoon. We can’t keep our hands off each other.
He still infuriates me, of course.
But damn, he’s amazing.
“Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a little girl,” I say.
She laughs and says, “Are you kidding me? I don’t know anyone more desperate for a Daddy to take control than you.”
“Yeah?” I retort. “What about you?”
She blushes and says, “Well, we’re talking about you right now, not me.”
I laugh. “Yeah, except you’re the one who’s desperate to relinquish control. I might like getting dominated in bed but I’m not looking to give anyone control besides that.”
She grins at me. “Didn’t you tell me once that one of the first things you said to Zander was that you liked the idea of giving a Daddy control?”
I sputter and she laughs. I completely forgot I told her that! Finally, I say, “Well, I’m not giving Zander control, he’s taking it!”
“Oh, really?” Lynda says. “Has he made you do anything you don’t want to do?”
“No,” I admit grudgingly.
“So everything he’s told you to do is stuff you already want to do?”
“Yes,” I concede, “But he’s not asking, he’s telling. He’s just gotten lucky.”
“Or, he knows you so well, that he can tell what you want without asking.”
“I—” I sigh. “Okay, you’re right. I like that Zander takes control.”
“But?”
“But can we really have a relationship based on that? I mean, one of these days, he’s going to be wrong about something. What happens when we finally want different things?”
“Well, have you talked to him about it yet?”
“No,” I say. “I just…I guess I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
“I’m afraid that if we talk about taking things to the next level that we’ll find out we want different things and everything we have now will disappear.”
Lynda smiles at me. “You’re going to be living on the ranch now. In the same house. At some point, you’ll have to talk to him. If that conversation ends in a breakup, better to do it now before it hurts even worse later on.”
I sigh. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right!” she says. “That’s why you love me.”
One week and God knows how many orgasms later, I still haven’t told Zander how I feel. I want to but everything is just so wonderful, I don’t want to rock the boat. We continue to have amazing, fiery sex, complete with the arguments and fights that we both know by now are only foreplay. I want more but I’d rather keep what we have now than risk losing it.
After another week, the situation completely changed. Zander stops fucking me. In fact, our only interactions are almost painfully professional. He gives me my instructions for the day and sends me to work. I don’t say anything at first but when it is a week since we last had sex, I can’t take anymore. I need to know what went wrong.
I burst into his office one afternoon after finishing my work for the day and say, “What the hell is going on?”
He looks at me and says, “Are you unsatisfied with your employment here?”
I stare at him and say, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I expect him to correct me for swearing at him like that, but he only says, somewhat stiffly, “If you’re no longer satisfied here, I would be willing to write you an excellent reference to any of the other ranches in the area.”
I stand in shocked silence. “Zander,” I finally say, much more softly. “What’s wrong? I thought I thought we were…” My voice trails off.
“What were we, Mary Cait?” he asks. “Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? I want more than that. I want a relationship I want the sex, but I also want the breakfasts and dinners and conversations and everything else that comes with a relationship. I want a little girl, not a free pussy.”
My eyes narrow and I snap, “Then be a man and take it!”
He recoils as though slapped and I take a step forward. “Come on, Daddy,” I say. “You want me to be your little girl? Make me.”
His eyes narrow and he growls, “Little girl—”
I intentionally interrupt him by stepping forward, placing my hands on the desk, and saying, “Make. Me. I dare you.”
His jaw tightens and I feel a thrill of equal parts fear and arousal run through me.