Page 33 of Loving Luna

I nodded and we continued walking. Once we reached the apartments, I clapped his shoulder as we prepared to join Mom and Luna inside. “Thanks, Dad. I can always count on you to give me good advice.”

“Anytime, son.”

We pasted on smiles and went inside. The ladies were in my living room with plates of dessert and mugs of coffee and tea and we joined them, trading the coffee for whiskey. The four of us visited for another half hour or so, and then Dad stood and said to Mom, “C’mon, Hettie. Let’s get home and let these kids have some time alone.”

“Aww but it’s early still, and Luna and I were just talking about our favorite books.”

Dad silenced her with a smirk. “Let me rephrase. Let’s get going so we can have some time alone.”

Blush colored my mother’s cheeks as she quickly rose and allowed my Dad to help her into her coat. “Yes, dear.”

She offered me a kiss on the cheek and Luna a quick hug, making us both promise to have dinner at their house the following Sunday, which we of course accepted, and then they left.

I looked at Luna as the door closed behind them.

“Look at that. You survived. And they love you and are so excited to see us as a couple, just as I knew they would be.”

Luna’s grin teased the corners of her mouth, and she beamed up at me. “You were right, Sir. I love them so much. Your mom is so sweet, and your dad… he reminds me so much of you. I think that’s why I was so nervous.”

I nodded and pulled her in for a hug. After holding her for a moment, I pulled back, holding her by the shoulders, and leveled her with my sternest, no-nonsense, Daddy-est look. “We need to talk, babygirl.”

CHAPTER NINE

LUNA

We need to talk. Four words that strike fear in any relationship, but especially in a Dominant-and-submissive dynamic.

Instantly, my stomach fell to my toes. “I…” My mind raced as my body showed the outer signs of my panic. My hands clammed up. My cheeks flushed. I would have sworn my knees trembled. Which was ridiculous. I wasn’t afraid of Drake. Not in the least, but I was at a loss. I’d been trying so hard to be good. To show him how much I appreciated him. To behave in a way that let him know I was one hundred percent in, despite all my earlier doubts and fears.

And yet, somehow I’d messed up. The thought hit me like a ton of bricks to the face. Tears sprang to my eyes before I could stop them. “What did I do?” I whispered, my voice thick with the threat of tears.

Instantly, Drake looked worried, his eyebrows furrowing and threading together in concern as he scrunched his face in confusion. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Oh.” I should have started to feel better, but I didn’t. If anything, I felt worse. “Then… what do we need to talk about?”

Drake blinked and blew out a sigh as I struggled to keep my composure. “Maybe I should start over.” He took my hand and threaded my fingers through his, gently leading me down the narrow hallway to his bedroom.

He locked the door behind us, and led me over to his bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress at the foot of the bed. I stayed standing at first, until he pulled me to sit beside him and angled his body toward mine.

He let go of my hand and reached up to caress my face. His gaze was as tender and gentle as his hand. “You didn’t do anything, babygirl. You’ve been the perfect submissive. What I want to know is: why?”

“I beg your pardon?” Now it was my turn to be confused.

“Ever since we got together, since we made this thing we’ve done together for so many years official, you’ve been a whole different person. In some ways, you’ve been someone I barely recognize.”

I blinked up at him. Was he not happy? He said I’d done nothing wrong, but it sure sounded like he was unhappy because of something I’d done or hadn’t done. “What do you mean?”

He cocked his head at me, looked deep into my eyes and sighed again, ending it with a chuckle. “God, I suck at communicating sometimes.”

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t nod, didn’t argue, just waited.

“Are you happy?” His honest question cut through the room like a knife.

“W-what?” I stuttered, racking my brain for anything I’d done to possibly make him think that I wasn’t. “Of course I’m happy.” A terrible thought struck me. “Aren’t you?”

I swallowed hard, bile rising in my throat. What if Drake was one of those men who was addicted to the chase? What if now that he had me, he didn’t want me?

The thought took my breath away and I could feel my old familiar walls rising around my heart. What was happening?

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