Page 42 of Callback
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jude
Even though Iapologized last night, I still tossed and turned all night. It would have been worse if Marly hadn’t allowed me some aftercare time. Most of the night, I lay in bed with my palm pressed to the cool wall between us. Marly’s bed was right on the other side. If I listened carefully, holding my breath, I could almost hear the creak of the bed as she rolled around in her sleep.
Around 5:30am, I gave up entirely. After showering, I ran out to get breakfast—chia seed pudding for Marly. Whatever the hell that was, the woman at the café assured me it was vegetarian. And an egg sandwich for me with two of the largest coffees they sold. With half and half.Because milk turns her coffee grayish. I grinned as I slid my keycard into the lock. Never in my life had I heard anyone say that about coffee with milk. It was fucking adorable.
I had a lot to make up for today. Yesterday was supposed to be easy. The easiest day of the whole fucking week and I had managed to screw it up.Easy for who, though?That’s the thing… most submissives already in the lifestyle don’t want to push a Dominant’s boundaries too much. They want to please me, even while they’re in control. Except for Marly.And Layla. But there was an innate difference between the two—yes, Layla was a switch. And based on Marly’s behavior, she likely was, too. But Layla was an experienced submissive. She made choices very intentionally—to punish. To control. And to hurt. And not in my best interest. But Marly didn’t know any better. Even though our apologies last night were brief, it was what we both needed. The softness of her eyes… the way she knelt on the floor in front of me and let me take care of her, touch her, even though she was still mad, it demonstrated a base knowledge—no, not knowledge. An instinct that in this relationship, caring for each other comes first.
Now, it was my turn to show her I was willing to step out of my own comfort zone for her, as well.
At 7a.m. on the dot, I pulled out my phone and texted Marly.
Good morning.
As per our faux Dom/sub contract, she responded within a few minutes with her own good morning and texted a photograph of her outfit for the day.
Jeans. And a tank top. Casual. Stunning. My cock saluted her, twitching to life. I groaned and cursed my stupid libido. Maybe if I hadn’t let it go dormant for over a year, I wouldn’t be so overactive. “Not fucking now,” I said to no one. But the photo was missing something. Something important. Her bare neck taunted me, teased me that she wasn’t really in this.
You look beautiful,I texted.But you forgot something.
Oh, shit,she texted back. A few seconds later, my phone dinged again with another picture message. This time, she wore the antique choker.
Much better. Ready for breakfast?
Omg, I’m starving.
I opened the side door leading into her room. She was standing a few feet away, leaning against the sink, running a lipgloss wand across her bottom lip.
Holy shit. The photo didn’t do her justice. That salute from my cock? It went to full-on attention.
It was just jeans and a goddamned tank top. I needed to pull it together. She had a fiancé who was already way more fucking understanding than I would ever have been. Letting my future wife come to a BDSM club with another man? What in the hell was Omar thinking?
She paused, looking up at me. “Where’s breakfast?”
I jerked my head through the open door. “I thought we’d spend today in my room.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Her mouth tipped into a small smile.
“Yes. I do.” She may not know it yet, but I did. “Come on.”
I turned, heading into my room, trusting she was behind me. I heard the soft click of the door shutting behind me as I walked to the small eating nook that was near the window.
When I turned to face her, Marly was grinning. “You did all of this for me?”
“I overreacted last night and I’m sorry.”
“You already said you were sorry… last night.”
“I know. But what good is that apology, if I don’t back it up with action?”
Her smile widened. “I guess it would be pretty worthless.” She slid into the chair I held out for her, taking the cloth napkin and draping it over her lap. “You know, I’m sorry, too. For pushing you last night.”
I took my seat across from her. “Giving me some time with you before bed was apology enough.”
“Only… it wasn’t.” Regret tightened her features and that smile of hers dropped. I immediately missed it and started scheming all the different ways I could bring it back. “What good is action without the words to back it up?” she said, trying to reverse my phrasing.
I took a bite of my egg sandwich and gave her a skeptical look. “It doesn’t quite work in reverse, does it?”
