Page 16 of Slash
"Then he made sure you knew what happened when you angered him," Slash finished when she trailed off.
Nicole nodded, not trusting her voice.
"Physical?" he asked, his voice carefully controlled.
"Sometimes. But he was smart about it. Never anywhere that would show, never in front of Kayleigh. And he was always so sorry afterward, so convinced that if I just tried harder, loved him better, he wouldn't have to get upset with me."
"That's not love," Slash said, and there was something dangerous in his voice now. "That's ownership. That's a predator systematically destroying someone's sense of self-worth, so they'll be easier to control."
The clinical way he described it, like he'd seen this pattern before, made Nicole look up. "You sound like you know a lot about this."
"Seen it before," he said simply. "Domestic violence, coercive control—it's universal. Same patterns whether you're in suburban Colorado or rural Afghanistan. I’ve never hit a woman, Nicole. I’ve never raised my hand in anger towards one. I have spanked a few asses in my life. Never out of anger. Never overboard. Never out of anger. If we end up in the type of relationship your sister is in, and you give consent, I will spank you. I will never slap your face. I will never punch you. I’m not like Brock."
"I don’t think you are like Brock, at all. I think you're a good man," Nicole said carefully. "And I can't be your redemption," she continued. "Just like you can't be my salvation. That's not fair to either of us. Those expectations are massive."
They stared at each other, both of them raw and exposed in ways that made Nicole want to take back every honest word she'd spoken.
"So, what can we be?" Slash asked finally. “I don’t do halfway. I won’t give you an ultimatum. I can be a good friend to you, ifthat’s what you need. I can protect you and keep you safe until you go home.”
“Or?”
“Or I can be more. I can be your Daddy. You can try it out. See what you think. See if we fit.”
“You aren’t a pair of new jeans,” she joked.
“No. I’m definitely not. But I wouldn’t mind getting into yours.“ He wiggled his eyebrows in the most outlandish way. Nicole couldn’t help but giggle.
“I have been curious about Daddy Dom relationships. Savannah has told me a lot. I’ve read. I’ve gone to the BDSM Club in Denver. But, I’ve never tried one in real life.”
“Think on it, okay. I don’t need an answer now. I would like to kiss you. Would that be okay? Can I kiss you, Nicole?”
“You’re asking me?”
“I’m big on consent. When you are mine? I’ll kiss you as often as I want.”
“You didn’t say if.”
“What?”
“If I’m yours. You said when.”
He stepped closer. “Damnit Nicole. Can I kiss you?”
Nicole's affirmation died in her throat, the sound folded away by the sudden closeness between them. So close that she could see his five o’clock shadow. Her fears felt ridiculous and small when measured against the thump-thump of her own heart. She had meant to be sensible. She had meant to be fair. Instead, she surrendered.
His hand found the small of her back first, anchoring, grounding. The other cupped her face as if he were memorizing it. His thumb brushed the edge of her cheekbone, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck. A current ran up through Nicole’s body, electric and warm. He smelled like oiland cedar and something crisp and clean, aftershave, perhaps. It was shockingly domestic and entirely dangerous.
When his mouth touched hers, it was both question and answer, a punctuation that unraveled the last of her defenses. The kiss deepened slowly and deliberately, an exploration with intention. Her hands rose without thinking, one finding the broadness of his shoulder, the other sliding up to rest against his chest where she felt the steady thrum of him beneath fabric. He responded as if he had been waiting for this exact moment with pressing, meeting, giving and then claiming and aggressive.
Time distorted. Minutes stretched. The world narrowed to the press of lips, the heat of their lips, the press of his palm at the base of her neck as if to keep her safely there. Nicole let herself be pulled under. There was no script here, no promises beyond the present, and that was the point: consent, choice, the fierce clean certainty of now. Her thoughts slid away until there was only the language of mouths and hands and the simple, furious joy of being wanted and choosing to be wanted back.
When Slash finally eased away, neither of them broke the contact entirely. Nicole could still feel the imprint of his lips along hers. She realized with a small, honest thrill that for the first time in a long time she was willing to consider what “or” might become.
CHAPTER 6
NICOLE
Nicole couldn’t sleep.
