Page 38 of Submit

Adam.

She sighed, shook her head, and jumped at the knock at her door. Her heart leaped in her chest as she moved across the living room into the hall and opened the door.

“Hi. Um, are you Skye Ballard? I think I got your mail.” A gawky young man with dark-framed glasses and a Charlie Brown sweater stood there, several envelopes in his hand.

“Oh, yes, that’s me.”

Why did her heart drop into her stomach? Had she really expected he would come to find her after all this time with not a single word? It would more likely have been Esme, trying to drag her out of the house again. “Uh, thanks.”

She took the mail, turned, and swung the door behind her. It didn’t close.

She could smell him. She’d know his scent anywhere. She whirled around, her legs going weak already, and he was there. Adam. She could hardly believe it.

The mail dropped onto the wood floor, but she didn’t care. What could he possibly want? And why did he have to look so damn beautiful, making her head spin?

Oh, God.

She put a hand to her hair self-consciously.

“Skye.”

Even the sound of his voice made her quiver all over. She had to get a hold of herself. “Adam, what are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

She couldn’t figure out what to say, so she stepped aside and let him in. Her pulse was racing with fear, with a yearning so strong she could hardly stand it. She led him into the living room and gestured for him to sit down, but he went immediately to the painting by the window.

“It’s me.”

She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“You’re very good.”

“It’s awful. It’s not… I can’t get it right.”

When he turned his gaze was full of emotion. It was shocking, to see his face like that. She was shaking.

“No, Skye. You had it right all along.”

“What do you mean?”

Two long strides and he was right in front of her. He took her shoulders in his hands and held on tight. Her heart felt as though it would pound right out of her chest. She was going weak all over from his touch, his scent, from the nearness of him. But God, she was mad. Mad at what he’d put her through.

His eyes were pure, smoky blue fire as he gazed down at her, and she had an overwhelming sense of his height, the breadth of his big body. The pure power of his commanding presence. And the emotion on his face. For the first time in her life, she understood what it might mean to swoon.

How the hell could he have this effect on her when she was so God damn angry?

“Damn it, Skye, all the way over here I knew exactly what I needed to say to you. But now I’m here and… you’re so fucking beautiful, I’m speechless. That’s never happened to me before.”

Tears stung her eyes, but she had to laugh. “I look like hell.”

He shook his head, his brows drawing together. “You look perfect. That’s why I’m here. You are perfect, and I’m an idiot to pass that up. You are perfect for me.”

“I don’t understand. Not after the things you said to me, and even more, everything you didn’t say. Everything you didn’t bother to say. It’s been a week, Adam! How long was I supposed to wait around for you to step up and take some responsibility for your actions? My understanding of what a good dominant is, from Esme, from all I’ve read, and from you yourself, means it was your job to make sure I was okay, and you didn’t do that.”

Her pulse ran hot in her veins. Her breath came in shallow gasps. The need for him to say the right thing, to make this better, warred with the anger and disappointment burning in her chest.

“That last night… everything you said was true. I knew it. I was just too damn stubborn to listen. And what did that get me? A fucking miserable week without you.”

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