The Collar (The Submissive 6)

“Why is that?”

“Master Greene’s just now a

llowing Peter back into group meetings.”

“Really? Took him long enough.”

“Exactly. I think it’d be best for one of them to integrate themselves back without the other.”

Jeff nodded. “It’ll take a patient and determined Dom to work with Sasha when she’s ready.”

“I think she’s already thinking about one in particular,” Dena said, remembering what Sasha had said about Cole.

“Anyone I know?”

“Maybe, but I would never break her confidence. Besides, it’d never work. The one she has her eye on would eat her for breakfast.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow.

“Not like that.” She swatted at his arm and then froze at the look he gave her. Her hand had just brushed his arm, but it was enough. Just the simplest touch was all it took to bring to mind all the history and intimacy between them.

Not only that, but whenever she’d playfully swatted at him in the past, he’d dragged her over his knee for swats of his own. Just briefly, she saw his eyes darken with desire, and she knew he was remembering, too.

“Want to play, do you?” he’d ask, and she would only be able to moan a reply as his hand traveled to land between her legs.

How had they gone from that to where they now were? Eating leftover beef stew in a strange house, acting like strangers.

She pushed back from the table. It was too hard to sit at the table with him during the awkward silence following her statement. “I can clean this up,” she said, picking up her bowl.

He held out a hand to stop her. “Not this time.”

She sat back down in her chair. “Not this time, what?”

“You’re not going to leave just because you got uncomfortable. If we’re starting fresh, we’re starting fresh.”

She thought just for a minute about telling him she wasn’t leaving because she was uncomfortable. After all, they didn’t know how much longer his father would sleep or what he might need when he woke up. But Jeff was right. They didn’t need to fall into old habits. And if she told him she wasn’t uncomfortable, he’d know it was a lie.

She looked up and met his gaze. “Do I do that a lot?”

“No, but you’ve done it enough.”

“Sometimes it just seems easier to work things out alone. Inside my head.”

“But when you do that, you shut me out.” He reached over and took her hand. “I want to help you work things out.”

The sincerity in his eyes took her breath away. “When did you get so smart?”

He grinned. “Hell if I know. It definitely didn’t happen in this house.”

Looking around, she wondered how much had changed since he’d lived here as a boy.

“Is it hard being back?” she asked.

“I’ve had easier assignments.” He looked around the kitchen. “I’m going to sell this place as soon as I can. Be rid of it once and for all.”

Silence fell over the room, and she thought he’d forgotten about her trying to get up until he spoke again.

“Tell me what made you want to leave the table,” he said.

She took the napkin from her lap and twisted it. “When I play swatted you, it made me remember what used to happen when I did that.”

“When I’d pull you across my lap?”

“Yes, and I knew you wouldn’t, but I remembered it and I figured you were remembering, too. And then it felt awkward, sitting at the table, both of us remembering what would have happened years ago and what would not be happening now.”

“Would you like for me to pull you across my lap?”

“Yes.” There was no way she would be able to lie about that, even if she were so inclined. “But with your father asleep in the living room and a hospice nurse on her way, it wouldn’t be the best thing to do at the moment.”

He took in all her words without a change in his expression, and when she finished, he simply asked, “Do you still want to leave the table?”

The truth surprised her. “No.”

“See what a little bit of talking things through can do?” he said in a not-quite-teasing voice.

“Hmmm.” She let her gaze travel over his chest downward to where his waist was hidden by the table. “Your turn. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

His voice grew low and rough. “I’m thinking I wish my father wasn’t taking a nap in the living room and a hospice nurse wasn’t on her way because I’d very much like to take you over my knee.”

“I missed you,” she blurted out.

He moved closer, his eyes locked on her lips. “I missed you, too.”

She sucked in a breath and leaned forward. The napkin fell from her hands. It was probably a bad idea to kiss him. They had agreed to start over, start fresh. Kissing now might be too much too soon.

She told herself that, but her body wanted him. And from his body language, he wanted her just as badly. The space between them grew smaller and the hint of their indecision hung between them.

Just go for it.

No sooner had she decided to throw caution to the wind and kiss him than his father called from the living room. It sounded like he was in pain.

“Damn,” Jeff mumbled under his breath as he pulled away from her. “I’ll be there in a second, Dad.”

“Now I’ll clean up the kitchen,” Dena said, gathering the bowls.

Later that night, the awkwardness returned. After calling Cole and having him bring her bags to the house, she realized she hadn’t given much thought to the sleeping arrangements. Jeff had been an only child, and there were only two bedrooms in his small childhood home.

Jeff picked up on her unease as she stood in the hallway with her suitcase. “I can take the couch. You can have the bedroom.”

“I can’t kick you out of your bedroom.”

“You’re not. I volunteer.”

His old bedroom was furnished with a queen-sized bed. Technically, there wasn’t any reason for either of them to sleep on the couch. Or to sleep alone, for that matter. She had told herself they were going to take things slowly and make a fresh start, and if they shared a bed, she had a feeling the slow plan wouldn’t happen.

Even so, she surprised herself by saying, “Don’t sleep on the couch. Share the bed with me.”

His jaw tightened at her words, like he was restraining himself. “Only if you want.”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

He nodded. “I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he said, before heading down the short hall to check on his father one more time.

Dena took her suitcase into the small bedroom and took out her pajamas and toiletry bag. She’d packed her regular pajamas, a white cotton long-sleeved two-piece set. She wondered if she would have packed something different if she’d known she’d be spending the night in Jeff’s bed. With Jeff in it.

He hadn’t returned to the bedroom when she was finished getting ready, so she climbed into the bed and scooted as close to the edge as possible. She was still hesitant and unsure enough about where they were headed that she didn’t want to tempt him. He’d said he’d keep his hands to himself, and she wasn’t going to make it difficult for him.

He came into the bedroom ten minutes later and silently crawled into bed. She noticed he scooted as close as possible to his edge, too.

“How’s he doing?” she asked.

“He’s sleeping. He’s slept much more today than normal. I think it must really be the end this time.” He seemed to hesitate before