Page 5 of Always Salty

But he had touched me inappropriately. He’d tortured me by making me think he was going to rape me. He’d beat me. He’d mentally abused me.

But he hadn’t raped me.

Not that the rest of it wasn’t bad enough, but I’d never had that particular violation happen to me.

Even if my brothers didn’t believe it never happened. They thought that I was trying to make them feel better for not noticing. I hadn’t been, but nothing could convince them otherwise.

“So, say I really get off on those types of things—the domination and the force—that’s not a bad thing?” I asked warily.

Jenny smiled. “No. I know that I usually don’t share personal information with you, but I feel like maybe this one time, to hear that someone as adjusted as me has these same kinds of fantasies, might make you feel better. I go to sex clubs. I enjoy role play, domination, and light slave play.”

I don’t know how I kept my mouth from falling open in shock, but I did.

Composing myself, I drew a deep breath and said, “It does.”

She closed her book and stood. “That’s all for today then. If you have any more questions or would like to meet any other time in the next six months, feel free to make an appointment.”

I stood up, too, smoothing my scrub top down over my hips.

After saying our goodbyes, I headed to work.

I worked at a sleep center in the middle of Dallas, and there wasn’t a night that passed that I didn’t question my thought process.

I could be working at a hospital as a registered nurse, yet I was here, working at a sleep center with my friend Dorie, making about half of what I could be making.

I made decent money.

I worked three twelve-hour shifts a week. I made enough money to pay my utility bills, and I had a fully paid-off apartment that’d lasted for a solid three years, thanks to my granddad.

When all the crap had gone down with my dad’s passing, Granddad had been the beneficiary of Dad’s will.

He’d taken us in, raised us, and then given us all of my father’s spoils. He’d even left Copper a plot of land on the lake that was sandwiched in between Chevy and Cutter’s.

For me, since Granddad knew I hated the lake and everything that it represented—my father’s ultimate goal of having a home there that was so grand no one could compete—he’d given me the money from the sale of our childhood home and a place in Castanon Enterprises whether I wanted that position or not.

I’d taken that and split it in half, giving half to Copper’s life-after-prison fund, and the other half to pay for my college completely and about three years’ rent on an apartment in the middle of Dallas.

Though, that three years was running out soon, and I’d have to start paying for my rent again before I knew it.

Which sucked because that meant I’d have to move.

I couldn’t afford my place much longer with my salary.

My place was bougie as hell, in an upscale apartment building that overlooked the Dallas skyline.

Sadly, my impending circumstances gave me a lot of things to think about.

I didn’t necessarily hate my job at the sleep lab, but I didn’t love it, either.

To be completely truthful, my ultimate goal was to find someone that adored my kinky side and wanted to give me everything—i.e., allowing me to stay home, raise our kids, and be available to him mind, body and soul any time he wanted me.

I wanted to not think.

I know that’s a crazy concept in this day and age, but that was my goal. I wanted someone to take care of me, give me what I needed, and love me unconditionally. All the while I’d give them everything that I had in my soul.

Was that too much to ask for?

Working when you truly didn’t want to work was a mind game.

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