She sighed loudly. “Sit down.”
Under normal circumstances, he would never follow her orders, but this wasn’t exactly normal. In an effort to try and take some of the wind out of her sails, he humored her.
Not the hill you want to die on. Lose one battle to win the war.
Moving to the seating area in front of her desk, he lowered himself into the right-hand leather armchair. He leaned back, his expression blank, as he waited for her to make her move.
Setting her pen down, she picked up the glass of whiskey she had poured herself. She leaned back against the cushions of her high-backed leather desk chair, the arm not holding her drink folded across her middle, and she looked over her glass’s edge at him.
She sipped again, watching him closely.
He simply returned her stare.
“It’s unlike you to ghost a woman. Put her down harshly, maybe, if she’s not getting the message. But that’s not what I saw a week ago.” She pointed a long, lacquered nail at him. “And don’t bullshit me that you were out for work because I saw you on the security cameras. You were here every damn night. So what happened?”
“I wasn’t aware that I was under any sort of agreement to talk to her unless I wished to.”
She probed, “So you don’t want to talk to her? Don’t want to see her?”
“That’s not any of your business, Tabitha.”
“It certainly is, Lobo! I chose you specifically to help her. You were supposed to answer questions, maybe demonstrate some of our activities. I certainly didn’t expect you to send her so far into subspace that she took an hour and a half to come down. And based on my conversation with her earlier, no matter what she says, she’s developed feelings for you.”
Tabitha leaned forward, put her whiskey glass off to the side on her desk, and then folded her arms in front of her on the desktop. She looked at him deeply. “I have to admit, I’m not surprised she was attracted to you. She lives with her head in the clouds, romanticizing everything. But you catching feelings? That was a surprise. I couldn’t believe you, of all people, were attracted to her. She’s so innocent. Considering our sessions in the past, I wouldn’t take you for the vanilla type.”
“She’s not vanilla. She’s definitely submissive. More so than you,” he murmured.
She held her glass against her bottom lip, her fingers grasping her glass so tightly, they were white with the pressure. “You need to tell her it’s over.”
He stood up and crossed over to the bar trolley to put his empty glass on the lower level so it would get washed for the next day. When he turned around, Tabitha was right behind him. He’d been so wrapped up in his own head, he hadn’t heard her leave her desk chair.
Her hand stretched out, her eyes following it as it ran down his shoulder to his elbow and continued to his wrist, where she traced the wolf’s head on his cuffs. “I’m sorry. She’s my friend. I feel responsible for her, as well as the clusterfuck this turned into. You were supposed to be a safe option.” Her eyes looked up at his. “I would never hurt you purposefully. What can I do?”
Drawing his arm back from her touch was the best he could do since there was no way to back up with the trolley at his back. “I’m fine, Tabitha.”
Her hands went to lay flat on his chest. “You don’t look fine. Maybe a session with me and the spanking bench would help? An opportunity to punish me for my bad choice?”
He took both of her hands in his and gave her a nudge to step back so that he could escape his hemmed-in position. “Tabitha, there’s nothing to punish you for, and besides that, you know I have no plans to scene with you again.”
With that, he strode to the door, clicked the mechanism to open it, passed through, and went home.
He’d done everything that needed doing before tomorrow. He’d packed his gear. He’d cleaned his personal weapons.
There was just one thing left to do.
He sat in front of the laptop at the breakfast bar in his apartment, dreading the upcoming conversation. Tabitha was right. Sylvan deserved at least a final conversation, as uncomfortable as it would be. She’d done nothing wrong except be herself.
What was worse was that Steel was also right. She’d definitely burned him. And it had scared the fuck out of him. As he’d held her in his arms while she struggled out of subspace, he’d felt panic rise.
What would she say?
What would she do?
What would she expect?
How could he be anything even close to what this beautiful woman deserved?
The truth was, he couldn’t. Pure and simple.