"I guess so." I frown. "Except he's been holding back all along, keeping me on that damn pedestal. I mean, we still haven't done anything in the playroom," I add, referring to a converted maid's room in my townhouse.
His brows rise. "Well, that was a huge waste of my considerable talents." After Brody told me in confidence that he knew that Dallas belonged to a kink club called The Cellar, I'd had him help me redo the room with a BDSM flair in an effort to convince Dallas that he could trust me to go with him as far as he needed.
Apparently that's a battle I'm still fighting.
"So what do I do?" I press. "I love him. And I'm so damned afraid I'm going to lose him."
"Like I've said all along, you have to prove to him you can handle it. That you can take whatever he gives."
"And like I've been saying all along, I've been trying. So far, not succeeding."
"Honestly, kiddo. I'm not sure what the best approach is. But I'd start by going to The Cellar."
"Seriously?"
"Hell yeah. If you go and tell him you're there to play, I promise you he'll show up, if only to keep you away from anyone else."
"But I wouldn't do anything with anyone else. And he knows it."
Brody lifts a shoulder. "Knowing it and knowing it are two different things. He'll come."
I nod. About that, Brody's probably right.
"You need to make it clear that even though he's the one in control, he won't hurt you. Pick a safe word. I can't guarantee it would have made a difference, but if you'd yelled a safe word--something offbeat--I bet it would have crashed through his dream, zen state, whatever the fuck it was. And if he knows you're thinking in those terms--"
"Then maybe he'll understand that I can handle it. That I want to handle it."
"Maybe." He sighs. "Honestly, this is out of my league. But that's my best advice. We're not talking a normal dom/sub relationship, here. You get that, right? This is all Dallas. All pain and past, and I don't really have a road map for you."
"I know. I don't need a map. I just need--I don't know, I guess I just need help."
"I'll always give you that in spades."
"I know. And I love you for it." I exhale, then nod. "Okay. So, back
to The Cellar. Do I just ... show up?"
"I'll arrange it for you. And I'll make sure you two have a private room available, too, because--hang on." He tilts his head, obviously considering something. "You know what? I take it back. Forget The Cellar."
"What? Why?"
"This is not a man who wants to share you, and we already know he's afraid of freaking you out or humiliating you."
I lean forward, listening. "Go on."
"Dallas wants the kink, sure. Hell, he needs it. But he doesn't want to need it. And he sure as hell doesn't like that he wants it. He goes to the club to fill a need, not because he likes it there or is comfortable being there."
I nod, because all of that rings true. "So where does that leave me?"
"You need privacy. And we've already set up pretty much what you need back in your townhouse."
"Except I told you that he seems entirely uninterested in christening that room. And, honestly, after the way he bolted from me, how the hell would I get him in there, anyway? I mean, after last night, I'm not sure he'll set foot in my house again."
Brody's grin is devious. "Oh, I can get him there. He may end up being pissed as hell and a little freaked out, but I think you can manage him."
"Pissed and freaked?" I repeat, then widen my eyes when I realize what Brody's thinking.
I almost start to protest, but then I close my mouth tight. It just might work. And, honestly, I'm desperate enough to try anything.