Page 63 of Dominate Me

“Are you okay? You’ve been distracted this week.”

I’d known Claire since she was ten and I was fifteen. I had been her babysitter. No way was I talking to her about this even if she was an adult now.

“I’m fine. Just a busy week.” I sighed and ran my hands down my cheeks. “You okay here? I’ve got a lunch appointment and a meeting in Grand Rapids later.”

She grinned and shrugged. When Claire had come home from college two summers ago and told my parents she’d quit, didn’t think college was for her but desperately needed a job so she didn’t have to move back home, they’d hired her to be the front desk manager during the week. They’d known her longer than I had and she was not only responsible, but smart.

Smart enough to know my excuse was just that.

“Sure. But maybe you should get some sleep. You look tired.”

I was exhausted. Nights with Jensen were taking me into sleep-deprivation mode. The mornings were starting earlier because he wanted a taste of me before he had to leave for work.

I wasn’t telling her that either.

“I’ll try later,” I said. I wouldn’t. I’d sleep when I was dead. Until then, I wanted Jensen to fuck me every which way he wanted.

After lunch with Gabby, then a meeting with my lawyer to discuss Timothy’s case, I was supposed to wait for Jensen to be done with work so he could take me out for dinner.

Clearly, he had no issues jumping head first into a relationship.

I was only hoping that soon, I could catch up with him.

* * *

We were in Madcup Coffee on the western edge of downtown Grand Rapids. Out our window was a park and behind that was an art museum I used to love strolling through during the long, cold winter weekends when there wasn’t much to go see or do in Denton.

I wasn’t thinking about cold winter nights or scarves or if I needed another pair of snow boots, though. No, I had clearly just dropped a bomb of epic proportions straight into Gabby’s lap. With the way she was staring at me, lips parted, ivory-colored coffee mug frozen halfway to her mouth, I briefly wondered if she would move or speak again.

“He said what?” she asked, shaking her head as if brushing off the shock.

“Well, um.” I hadn’t been nervous to talk to her. In fact, Gabby had listened to all my questions and answered them as best she could. She was sweet and friendly but had a sassy bite to her I appreciated. She’d explained all about her relationship with Dylan and how it came about and that they’d been together for seven years now. She knew Jensen well. She trusted him.

It helped me trust him, too.

So when I told her he said he didn’t just want to be my Dom, that he wanted more, I hadn’t expected her reaction.

“Haley,” she said, her voice softening as she placed her mug on the napkin in front of her. “I’ve known Jensen longer than I’ve known Dylan. He’s never wanted anything more than a sub, even with Courtney and they were together for two years.”

At her name, I blanched. I couldn’t help it. He’d told me bits about her, but from the way Gabby was acting, I didn’t know the whole story.

“He’s mentioned her,” I replied.

Her eyes jumped. “Wow...that’s, I mean that’s great. But that’s...wow.”

“I feel like I’m missing something.”

“It’s not my story to tell, sweetie. And you have to know that I won’t break that trust. Not just because he’s a Dom, or because if I did Dylan would have my ass in a swing, denying me orgasms until the zombie apocalypse...” Her face went lax and dreamy. “Which I might not mind. But the point is,” she waved a finger in the air, clearing her head from sex fantasies and back to me, “is that after Courtney, Jensen was messed up for a long time. He took a lot of blame that wasn’t his to shoulder. I figured when he came back to the club, when he decided to embrace who he is...well, I figured he’d be hesitant to get involved so quickly again.”

Something about her words made my spine prickle. “He told me they weren’t involved. Not...” I struggled for the right word. “Romantically, I guess.”

“They weren’t. I suppose not really, but two years is a long time regardless of how you classify it. I’m happy,” she said and took a drink of her coffee, smiling while she wrapped her red-painted lips around the edge of the mug. “I’m thrilled for him. And you. You couldn’t ask for a better man to take care of you. In bed or out of it.”

Her shock gave me pause, yet she also shined with sincerity.

A pickaxe hit my chest, making the first fracture in the wall I’d built.

“Thanks for listening.”

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