Page 57 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

He held me like that, breathing with me, until I was calm. My shoulders fell, the tension I didn’t know I was holding escaping from me.

“Alice... talk to me. Is that better?”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, letting my eyes close. I was so tired. “This is a bad idea. I never should have... we really shouldn’t...” I dropped my head in embarrassment.

I never should have opened this door. It was going to happen again, I knew it would. I was going to break a rule or go crazy on him, or have a panic attack by some trigger I didn’t know I had, and he’d let me go because I was just too much to deal with.

“Look at me.” He took my chin and forced my face up, and I opened my eyes. “Talk to me. What just happened inside that pretty head of yours?”

“You’re right,” I whispered. “We have a lot to talk about. And we should have talked about it first because... because now I’m going to have to tell you everything, and you’re going to see how crazy I am, and you’re going to decide this is a bad idea and that you don’t want me because I’m a pain in the ass, and I’m going to be sad because I really like you now.”

A slow smile crept over his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll hate me again in a few hours.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I muttered.

“Honestly Alice, it doesn’t matter to me if you hate me or love me. I take care of the things that belong to me, and now that I’ve found you, you’re on the top of the list. I’ll play my part, you’ll play yours. Your emotions at the time have nothing to do with it.”

Your emotions have nothing to do with it.Something about that phrase hit me harder than his slap in the face. It danced around in my head and I wasn’t sure what to do with it, but he continued before I had a chance to really chew on the thought.

“Alice, I know a decent amount on how to communicate and work with people who have very specific needs, and who have mental health concerns. I’m not going to judge you for your illness or your disabilities. You’re going to be mine, and we’ll work through the rest. You’d better get used to the idea.”

“You really don’t know what you’re signing up for, Reuben.”

“Which is why you’re going to tell me everything tomorrow when you come over for dinner. Be mentally prepared for it.”

“It’s going to take a week.”

“Then you’ll come over all week. I don’t go back to DC until next Tuesday.”

I shook my head, not sure what to believe. I was exhausted from the spanking, the pain-gasm, the panic attack, and the emotional rollercoaster I’d been riding all day. So I just shook my head and sighed and said, “Okay.”

Reuben stayed around with me for another hour, sitting with me and chatting quietly about nothing, letting me ramble about stars and other bullshit until I could confidently tell him that I wasn’t going to have another panic attack during dinner. He climbed off my bed and adjusted his pants, rethreading the belt. I finally got a good look at it.

“What kind of belt is that?” It had a D-hook in it in a weird spot, and was made up of several leather loops attached together.

“Bondage belt. Amazing how many different things you can do with it. A friend of mine makes them.”

“Wait... is it Julia Fairchild?”

“See, Alice, this is what I don’t understand.” He buckled the belt and stared at me while he put his jacket back on. “We have the same friends, run in the same circles, and go to the same clubs. You’ve lived in DC for almost a decade. Hell, Becca Huxley is your therapist. Why is it I’ve never run into you?”

“Maybe we have, and we just don’t remember,” I shrugged.

“Oh no. I would remember.”

I cocked my head at him. “Why? How would you? How many people do you meet every day or every time you go to The Underground?”

He stepped closer to me and took my face in both of his hands, leaning down towards me with wonder in his eyes, and I thought for a minute he was going to kiss me. But he stared at me, studying my face like it was a surprise, like he was trying to remember every detail of me.

“No... I would have remembered.”

He let go of my face and straightened, putting on his “scarry Dom face.”

“Six o’clock. Wear a dress... don’t be late, or else.”

I pursed my lips, debating whether to give him the answer he clearly wanted.

But we’d both broken enough rules today. It was probably eating him up... so I swallowed the honorifics for now, and said, “you’re the boss, boss.”

---