Page 29 of Yield to Me

Chapter 16

The sour stench of stale alcohol reeked in Michael’s bedroom, leaking out of every crevice. I wondered if it was coming out of his pores too, knowing how much he had had to drink at Surrender that night. After I had seen him being tortured by a woman, I had personally switched to water, careful to make sure that we had a sober ride home. I also wanted to be aware of everything that was happening, the opposite of the booze infested revenge fuck fest that I had let happen the other night. Tonight would be the real judgment of our potential as friends with benefits.

Owen’s words nagged at me until I couldn’t bear it anymore. I’m right, aren’t I? he had said. I know you. He won’t be able to make you weak with pain and pleasure like I can.

All I had to do was prove him wrong, I thought. Well, all Michael had to do, that is.

Michael was sprawled out on the bed, leaning over the edge, fumbling a new roll of film into a camera. I walked over to his bed and kneeled on it. He looked up at me. I crawled over to him with purpose in my movements, so he’d know what I wanted. This time, his tongue was deep, but slower, hesitant. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my breast, and he squeezed. I didn’t feel anything. So I grabbed his hand and made him touch my ass. His hand drifted up, holding the small of my back.

Our kissing was mechanical, rolling through the cogs of motion, performing for one another. I didn’t feel anything for him, even with his tongue inside of me. I resisted the urge to pull away, frustration growing inside of me, trying to feel something, anything. I pulled down my pants and underwear and bent over, offering him my bare ass.

Michael stared at me. “Uh, what are you doing?” he asked.

“You begged me to take you to the dungeon,” I said. “So spank me like you mean it.”

“I don’t know if I want to spank someone,” he said. He sat up. “This is weird, Riley.”

I knew it was weird; I felt it too. But irritation clouded my judgment. He may have been rejecting the act of violence, of punishment, whatever you wanted to call it, but it felt like a rejection of me. After all, I was the one who needed this.

“But you spanked me the other night,” I said, referring to the night we had pizza. And at No Doze, for that matter, I thought.

“It was a joke. And you told me not to.”

That’s when I finally admitted to myself that Owen was right.

“I guess this is it then,” I said. I stood up.

“Wait,” he said as I reached the door. “I’ll do it.”

I stayed still, my palm gripping the handle of the door. “Do you actually want to,” I said. It was a question, but I said it more like a statement. I knew the real answer, even if he didn’t want to tell the truth.

“I—” he paused. A long sigh escaped him. “Maybe we can switch spots?”

I turned to face him, my hand on my hip. If we switched spots, if I spanked him, I knew I wouldn’t be into it. I wanted him to pursue me, to make me feel owned. Like Owen did.

“I’d feel more comfortable like that,” he said. “Actually, I’d like it more too, I think.”

I shook my head. “We got this out of our systems.” I gestured a finger between the two of us. “And now we can be normal again, right?”

Michael stood up. “Whoa. You’re done, just like that? Because I said I didn’t want to spank you?”

“It has nothing to do with spanking,” I mumbled.

“This has to do with Lowell, doesn’t it?” Michael asked. Again, I stopped at the door, turning my head.

I wasn’t sure if it did, but I knew I would’ve ended the relationship with Michael eventually. It was a mistake to even go on a pizza date with him, let alone sleep with him and take him to a dungeon. “I have to go to work,” I said. It was true that I had a shift at the restaurant, but it wasn’t until the next night. I opened the door. “It’s not about Lowell,” I said. “We’re wrong for each other.” And I left.

“The new owner has a reservation tonight,” the manager said. “I know you’re fine, Riley, but if you need anything, anything at all, let me know. Hell, let any of us know! We want to make a good impression.”

“I will,” I said. I would treat whomever it was like I treated everyone else, and any special requests, I knew who to ask for help. It had been almost two months since I had started; I wasn’t scared of a new owner. Besides, Bobby would always let me work more hours at No Doze if I needed them.

Upon approaching Le Salon section, my gut sank. In a suit and a forest green tie that matched his eyes and his dark hair falling perfectly into place, Owen’s presence overwhelmed me. I could smell his earthy scent. A watch on his wrist, a vein bulging beside it, reminded me of his strength, holding me down during our night together. As I got closer, I saw a red silk tie coming from his pocket, as if he was saving it for later.

Then I noticed the woman sitting across from Owen, a statuesque brunette: barrel curls, deep blue eyes, plump lips, a low cut dress that revealed her perky cleavage. With my hair tied back in a ponytail, plain brown eyes, and a button up shirt that wouldn’t have been flattering on a scarecrow, I was clearly second tier to this woman; there was no mistaking it. The woman ordered a glass of cabernet, smiling at me the whole time. She had a warm, welcoming smile that made it feel like she thought we were equals, unlike many of the other customers at the restaurant. Her courtesy made me even madder; I couldn’t hate this woman, even if I wanted to. Owen’s knowing smirk told me that his plan had worked; he knew bringing this woman would make me jealous.

“Let’s get the bottle,” Owen said. He explained that he had just had the sommelier order from a new winery in Napa. This particular Cabernet wasn’t on their menus yet.

He was the new owner. Of course he was. It hadn’t even dawned on me until he mentioned the wine orders. The warmth in my cheeks, embarrassed at being duped, filled my body slowly, like water in a sinking ship. He knew he was buying Chez Tonton, I thought. He knew I wouldn’t say yes to the interview unless he didn’t own it yet.

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