Page 44 of Sub Mission

I loved Arizona. I’d known him since he was fifteen and listened to his father share tale after tale of his teenage trouble-making. It was that love right there that kept me from grabbing a roll of duct tape and wrapping it around his head three for four times, covering his mouth so he’d stop talking for just a few fucking minutes.

“Uh…Seth…have you looked at this stuff?”

“Nope.”

“Do you think you should?”

“Nope.”

“Have you ever been wrong before?”

“Nope.” That was a fat lie, I’d been oh so wrong about Baker.

“I’m, uh, just gonna leave this right here for you then and I’m a gonna disappear into thin air. See ya later, Seth. Love ya like a brother, man.”

He sat an envelope on my desk with my name written across it…in Baker’s handwriting.

My hand started trembling and my heart ached. If there weren’t other people in the room, I’d have picked the envelope up and smelled it, hoping Baker’s scent would have lingered. I stared at the envelope. Stared at it until the rest of the people sitting at their desks left for the day…or ran for their lives. I wasn’t sure which, nor did I care. Fuck it all. I was thirty years old and this was my first Dear John letter. Maybe I should just toss it? What did it matter what was on the inside? He’d already made things perfectly clear when he pulled his disappearing act and then never called, never…anything.

I crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash, where it belonged. Angrily, I gathered my shit up, slamming and shoving things like a teenage kid pouting when he didn’t get his way. As I stormed past Landon’s office, I noticed he was still working. He looked at me, frowned, shook his head, and returned to the pile of paperwork in front of him. He wasn’t watching, but I flipped him off anyway. Three people got on the elevator on the numerous stops it took to reach the bottom…and three people regretted it. I acted like an ass.

Didn’t give a fuck.

I made it to my Harley Davidson in record time and shoved my backpack into the saddlebag on the side of the monster ride. It had been months since I’d ridden, but once I’d returned from Miami, it seemed I enjoyed the risk. I drove as fast and dangerous as possible. It was never when other cars were around, but when I was alone on the road leading up to my cabin in the mountains, I drove like the hounds of hell nipped at my heels. I hadn’t considered driving over the edge of one of the cliffs yet, but figured that particular thought wasn’t far down the road, not with the high rate of speed I zoomed toward a deep depression.

After snapping the saddlebags shut, I climbed on and roared the engine to life. There was one other couple in the parking garage and they grimaced when the loud sound echoed off the concrete walls. I sat there, revving the engine, thinking about the envelope crumpled in my trash can. Housekeeping would take care of it tonight and that would be the last of Baker Daley.

I killed the engine and raced back toward the elevator. When it didn’t rush down fast enough for me, I ran to the stairwell, and started my sprint to the eleventh floor. Driven by despair, I reached my floor in record time, yanked the door open, and stormed back to my desk.

There it lay…still untouched.

With an all-consuming dread, I sat down in my chair, pulled the envelope out, and straightened the edges from where I’d crumpled it earlier. Had he gone back to the penthouse while I’d been at the police station, answering questions? Had he sent it through somebody and Landon put it with my things? Hell, maybe the fucking tooth fairy had given it to the Easter Bunny, and he’d handed it off to Santa Claus.

I braced myself, tried to wrap a protective cocoon around my heart, and carefully opened the envelope. His messy writing was there, mocking me, but wrapping around my heart at the same time. With a heavy heart, I started reading.

Dear Sweet (cause that was the sweetest fucking night of my entire life),

I hope you’re reading this because the assignment is complete instead of me being dead. Haha. Just kidding. I know that you’ll be my knight in shining armor and rescue me before too much damage is done to this gorgeous body of mine. First of all, I didn’t wake you before leaving because I know we’ve crossed too many lines, made things too unprofessional. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you’d even let me go. That wouldn’t have been cool and would have pissed me off…which would have led to you having to discipline me. Okay, I’m rambling because I’m nervous. I don’t have much time, but there are things I needed to say, just in case something goes wrong.

You were right, Seth…I was experimenting. I was curious. You see, I’ve never been in love before and I wanted to know what it felt like, even though I knew it probably wouldn’t end the way my fantasies played out in my head. I broke every rule known to man and the agency. I made things personal when they should have stayed professional. Trust me, I didn’t mean for it to happen, but once I started falling, I couldn’t stop. No, I didn’t want to stop. It felt too good—too perfect.

I fell in love with you, Seth. Couldn’t help it. You’re pretty damned lovable, especially when you try hard not to be.

Anyway, I know there’s a really high chance this was all a game for you. I understand that—it should have never been anything more. You’re a damn good Dom, but I know that doesn’t mean you are supposed to fall in love with your sub…especially your borrowed sub. I’ll deal with it if this was nothing more than a job for you.

After the mission ends, and we’ve saved the day, I’m gonna disappear—go back home and hang out. If you’re interested in something more, you know where to find me. If you don’t come, I’ll completely understand. Either way, thank you for giving me something I’ve never had before and never thought I’d have the chance to enjoy. Being in love makes me feel giddy. It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world. I hope you find it one day, even if it isn’t with me.

Forever Yours,

Sweet Tart

I stared at the crisp white paper in front of me. It had the logo of the apartment building emblazoned across the top. I remembered Baker swiping it from the front lobby, laughing like he’d really pulled off the heist of the century.

When had he…

That meant he’d written it…

Oh, fuck. He’d written me this note the night he’d left our penthouse, intending to walk straight into the hands of danger.

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