Page 15 of Submissive Lies

“About?”

I panicked. I’d prepared for battle earlier, ready to have that come-to-Jesus meeting with him I needed to have. Now it was the last thing I wanted to do. I thought fast.

“Just thinking about the upcoming show.”

“Ah…” Thomas paused for a second, mouth open as if he were about to say more. A second later he closed it, giving a quick nod before he leaned over and kissed my forehead.

This. This was becoming a problem. Thomas was not stupid. Over the past two months he’d started asking questions when he found me lost in thought like this. Penny for your thoughts? What’s going on up inside there, Jen? Is everything okay? Each time he caught me I piled another lie on top of the ones before them. To dodge answering the questions, to avoid telling him the truth.

The fucking irony was not lost on me. I hated lying to him. Lies to myself I could deal with. The consequences of those were mine to own and suffer through. The lies I told Thomas would be his to deal with at some point, and through no fault of his own.

I wasn’t ready to tell him the truth, however. At least not now. Not today. I wasn’t strong enough to do that yet.

I looked down at my plate. When my desires began to reassert themselves, they’d started as brief flashes of memory that would appear at random moments, and not always when we were having sex. Simple touches prompted explicit memories that they shouldn’t have. Memories that triggered feelings that ran up my spine like little jolts of electricity, calling for me to react in ways that would have definitely raised Thomas’ eyebrow. Hell, couples who aren’t into any sort of kink do shit like that all the time! Except when they did, they didn’t suddenly want to fall to their knees, head bent, waiting with quivering anticipation for a fist to wrap in their hair. For me, however, that was what was happening with far too much frequency. Triggered reactions that were not conducive to maintaining the persona I had taken on. I was struggling to keep them in check and losing the battle. Those thoughts that urged me to kneel before Thomas, offering myself to him, begging him to dominate me were winning.

-Oh, yeah, you should do that. Definitely do every one of those things. That will go over well.-

I sighed. Right. Sure. As if I could. I couldn’t tell him those thoughts, unless I was willing to admit to something much larger. If I were to just come clean with him about my sexuality now, he wouldn’t understand. That wasn’t the person who Thomas thought I was, nor the one he loved. I hadn’t sold him on that person.

I’d sold him on a lie.

Our recent conversation and his discovery of my dirty little secret notwithstanding, none of the things I wanted to tell Thomas about what I desired sexually would be things he’d be willing to—or want to—engage in. That wasn’t who Thomas was. No, he was a good boy, as clean-cut as his blond, all-American, boyish looks portrayed. Rough sex. Yep, that right there, what he had done last night, was as far as Thomas Kiernan would ever go. I had little doubt that even that had made him feel giddy with the absolute filthy wickedness of it.

Dear God.

For a moment, I’d thought his finding out about my kinky desires might have bought me some time. Thrown him off the scent that there was something bothering me. Now, I wasn’t so sure. That look he’d given me when he’d caught me wool-gathering, the unspoken question that he’d withheld… Shit. Maybe I had gained nothing. Maybe he still knew that there was something more bothering me. Fuck. What if nothing I was doing to hide my apprehension was working?

Thomas was moving about the kitchen, cleaning up. I pulled out of my musing and watched him, feeling both sadness and frustration in equal parts. The problem here was I was talking myself to fucking death about this, rather than meeting it head on. I debated with myself in circles around the issue, but not once did I bear down and do what I needed to do — just talk to Thomas. I had gotten myself to this point, but I couldn’t seem to get the traction to go further.

All I did know was one thing: this situation wasn’t going to get any better. In fact, unless something happened, it would only get worse.

Next week I had to go out of town for one of our corporate trade shows. This upcoming event wasn’t a big one, so I would be the only person from my department in attendance. Loren wouldn’t be there, and aside from a few regional and corporate salespeople who would show up on the actual show days, this was my gig to run solo. I would handle things the way I saw fit with a minimal amount of input from others, which was a blessing unto itself. Shows like this where I’d be holding down the fort on my own were the ones I enjoyed the most.

There was a secondary benefit this time. It would give me a chance to get my head screwed on straight. Come up with a real game plan on how to deal with my relationship with Thomas. I watched as he finished the last of the dishes. He glanced up at me, looking at me with a smile.

The one that said ‘Oh, I know what you like, and I’m gonna take real good care of you.’

Fuck.

This was a monster of my own creation.

No one to blame but myself.

I had to take care of it and take care of it soon.

---