Page 28 of Tormented Dreams

"Anyway, my point is he reallydoesn'thave much time, and he never will unless he puts his foot down at the hospital. And yet on top of all of that, he's pursuing the relationship between us in a way which, if anything, is actually more time consuming."

"How do you mean?" Trinity queried with a frown.

"Well, since we're not living together, he has to make time in an already busy schedule to come to my house, choose what clothes I wear, deliver any punishments—all the stuff you'd expect," she explained.

"But it's often late, just before bedtime, in fact, so he refuses to let me cook for him, because he says I should eat earlier in the evening, and I'm telling you, he should be taking his own damn advice there," she huffed indignantly, with a pointed look at them both.

"So then, when he's finished with me - not that he's usually got much energy for anything - he has to drive himself home and cook his own dinner before collapsing into bed and doing it all over again the next day."

"You're worried about him," Trinity observed with an understanding nod.

"Yes, of course, I am," Grace agreed. "The only time off he seems to get is when he's arranged to come here, and while that might be a stress reliever, it's not exactly the most relaxing pastime. Most of the time, he's shattered, and I don't think he can carry on the way he is without experiencing some kind of burnout." Grace blew out a breath and shook her head sadly. "And yet therelationship we have now is just adding to the pressure, rather than relieving any of it."

"I see what you mean," Serenity contemplated, nodding slowly.

"At least if I was a proper slave, I'd get to look after him and make things a little easier for him. The way things are, at the moment, I don't even get the satisfaction of doing those few little things that might make his day easier."

"Talk to him," Trinity advised as the man himself walked into the dungeon where they were all sitting, looking as tired and drawn as Grace had implied.

Yes, she would talk to him, Grace promised herself as pleasure lit up his face momentarily when he saw her.

The question was, did she have the heart to do it right now, when she knew just how desperately he needed the R&R?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The talk hadn't happened. Well, not the way Grace had wanted it to anyway.

She’d chosen to wait, allowing Xavier to enjoy his well-earned break and revisit the issues within their relationship on another occasion.

Except there was never enough time. She voiced her concerns in dribs and drabs when, inevitably, Xavier was too tired, or too distracted, to pay attention to what she was trying to say. Or when the minutes were too short, and they'd only just begun to touch on the problems before he had to leave.

So far, the only thing Grace had succeeded in doing was making herself even more frustrated. And with each failed attempt to deal with the situation, her frustration grew, until she felt as if she was about to explode. She found herself hanging on to her temper by a thread most of the times they saw each other, and she didn't know how much longer she could control it before she blew.

And then came the night when he was so late coming around for his evening visit, Grace was forced to stay up later than she normally would, and that was just the final straw.

She was tired, herself, from a hard day at work and she hadn't been sleeping well, worrying about the way things were with her and Xavier. And yet here she sat, staying up, waiting for him to arrive so he could pick out her clothes for the next day, ask—and expect her to be honest—about whether she had followed the rules he’d given her and then deliver her punishment if she actually admitted she hadn't, when all she really wanted to do was go to bed. Or maybe just have a cuddle, not that that was a common occurrence, but it was what she found herself craving lately. Maybe it was just because her birthday was looming large on the calendar, later this month, and she was still no closer to her baby goal. Not even the option of finding a reputable sperm bank, since the way things currently stood had her psychologically hobbled.

There was rarely any time for anything else these days. No convivial glass of wine together, no private play to leave them both exhilarated and satiated. And certainly, no time to discuss the problems which were starting to bog down their entire relationship, leaching the fun out of every aspect of their moments together.

It had been almost twelve weeks now, and Xavier still didn't have a key to her apartment. He had turned one down when she'd offered it, so she hadn't bothered asking again. It was just one more thing that annoyed her. Especially right now, when she was forced to wait up for him until he knocked.

The temptation was strong to just send him a text message and tell him not to bother because she was going to bed. In fact, shedug out her phone to do just that when the distinctive double rap on her door announced that he had finally arrived.

Grace stalked over to the door and threw it open, turning and stalking away again without bothering to greet him. Right now, she really didn't give a shit what he thought of her actions.

She'd had enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Grace was mad. It didn't take a psychologist to read the grim set of her mouth and rigid posture. Never mind the way she’d flung open the door and then stormed off without so much as the briefest of greetings.

His shoulders slumped and he felt deflated.

What little bit of enthusiasm he’d been desperately clutching onto at the thought of seeing her, that torch which kept him going during his excruciatingly long day, was slowly extinguished.

God, he was so tired. And he had so been looking forward to seeing Grace, of having a tiny oasis of calm and comfort in an existence that suddenly seemed determined to drown him under a deluge of never-ending responsibility and burden.

"I know it's late. I'm sorry," he apologised quietly, but if anything, his capitulation just seemed to rile her up even further.

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