Two for Alex - Page 114

There was a pause, during which Alex nearly hung up. She was gripping the phone so tight her hand started to shake.

“I guess we can’t say anything with certainty,” he finally said. “Yet,” he added staunchly. “Listen, we just need a little time. The two of us. To work things through.”

The hope that had risen a moment before fluttered to its death.

Alex took a deep breath, refusing to let him hear the pain. “Yeah. I need some time too. And some space. I’m not sure it’s working for me either. I thought I could handle just being your submissive without anything more, but I’m not sure anymore. I…I need to get my own priorities straight.”

Another long silence, during which Alex began to cry. She held the phone away, determined not to let him hear her. Damn it, what was she doing? Throwing away the best thing to ever happen to her? But her pride had backed her into a corner. She didn’t want to be with them on sufferance while they figured out if they wanted her or not.

“I understand,” Daniel finally said. “Please, please call us when you’re ready. Give us another chance. Please.”

“Bye, Daniel.”

Alex ended the call, dropped her head into her arms and cried until there were no tears left.

~*~

Alex worked furiously on her novel. She woke up at dawn and typed until her fingers cramped. She stopped only to use the bathroom and get a new cup of coffee, which was often cold by the time she remembered to sip it.

The book had started out chronicling the sexual adventures of Amy and her two Masters—art imitating life. But where her real life had derailed, Amy went on to find true love and happiness in the arms and hearts of her Doms.

Hurrah for fiction.

She finished the rough draft at the end of her third day back in Danbury. Exhausted but triumphant, she sent it off to her editor a full two weeks ahead of schedule.

Daniel had called again on her second day home to ask how she was. “We miss you,” he said. She missed them too, both of them. She missed being the object of their sexy, sensual D/s training. She missed the intensity of experience and the serenity of submission. She missed the rare times they let her linger in their bed, as if she were their real lover instead of just their sub girl.

She missed the easy companionship around the dinner table. She even missed her chores, though not enough to clean up her dump of an apartment. Better to just get a bunch of trash bags and fill them. Empty the place and start fresh.

Though she ached for what she’d lost, she wasn’t ready to return to them. She was no longer willing to settle for sleeping alone. She didn’t want to be just their sub, but not their lover. And she knew that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t what they had offered and she had claimed it wasn’t what she wanted.

But now she knew different. She was ready, for the first time in her life, to stop running. Cheryl had accused her of being afraid to commit, of heading for the hills whenever the L word came up. She understood now this was because she had never seen love. Not the deep, abiding love she’d observed between Daniel and Liam. A love she wanted for herself—if not with them with someone she could trust and connect with. Someone who understood her need to submit as a part of that love.

Over the next few days, with her novel done and not quite ready to start the next project, she took long walks early in the morning, musing on her life and what her next step should be. She kept thinking about Anthony Campos, the sexy, slightly dangerous whip maker who’d basically crashed their party.

She remembered he lived in Wilton, not far from Westport. He’d made a point of saying his address, though she no longer recalled it. She did recall he’d said he was listed. On a whim she pulled up a telephone directory on the internet and typed in his name and town. An address and phone number appeared like magic.

What had he said? She closed her eyes, trying to remember his exact words. Suddenly she could almost hear his voice, that deep, sexy voice with the rounded pure tones of his slight Spanish accent.

If you ever want to connect with a real Master, someone who could take you where you’ve always dreamed of going, call me. I’ll be waiting, Alexandra.

Had he meant it? Should she call? Or was it just bullshit, like his claim he’d wait a thousand years.

What the hell? She’d already lost everything by leaving Daniel and Liam. What was left to lose? She grabbed her cell phone and punched in the number. She got his voicemail, panicked and hung up.

Tags: Claire Thompson Erotic
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