Page 41 of Submissive Lies

Frustration became a coil of tension that squeezed my jaw until my teeth ached. I did not want to consider that this could be the ending to what was up to now a perfect evening. I wanted Mr. Steve Friess to come to my room, take me to bed, and give me a taste of what I had abandoned fifteen months ago. To give me the things I now craved. Everything about him said he could do that, screamed it. I knew those looks, I knew that voice, the presence he projected and all that it promised. Ben had done that for me once, and there’d been a point where I’d given up on ever feeling moments those intense ever again. Steve promised a return to that even if for only one night. Now fear that my inner voice was right made me ache at the thought that all of this was just a fanciful chimera, my imagination run wild.

“Jen, what’s wrong?”

Shit. Dammit!

His voice snapped me back to the present. My anxiety was showing, the thoughts displaying themselves despite my best efforts otherwise. My shoulders hunched up defensively, and I tried to wipe from my face whatever look he had taken notice of.

“Nothing.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, cooled to tempered iron, pupils flicking back and forth as he tried to gauge what was going on inside my head. Lips pinched into a tight line of skepticism, he leaned across the table. Once again there was the electric arc of his touch as his hand closed over mine, fingers pressing into me.

“Jen.”

His voice was low, commanding, and I quivered with equal parts frustration and desire. Was I so obvious that he could read the turmoil I was putting myself through? I sat rigid under his silent scrutiny, my eyes turning down to stare at the table. I didn’t want to look weak. I hated the idea of him thinking of me that way.

“Jen.” The imposing tone he put into my name broke through my thoughts, drawing my eyes back up to his.

I took a deep breath to push down a surge of irritation, steeling myself for how he might respond to what I was about to say.

“Where is this going, Steve?”

He blinked once, grimacing as confusion clouded his face. Thoughts chased each other from brows to eyes to mouth, until something clicked into place. His expression softened, eyes crinkling at the corners as he tilted his head to one side. Any uncertainty there’d been a second ago vanished, and the gaze he contemplated me with was composed once more.

“Where do you want it to go, Jen?”

“Please don’t do that.” I shut my eyes, then pulled in a breath to calm a statement I knew I could make waspish. I didn’t want my frustration to show, but Steve had to understand how important this was. I let out the breath slowly, opened my eyes wide, trying to emphasize this to him and still make my answer as level as the one he’d given me. “Please don’t answer my question with a question.”

He went neutral on me, mouth a flat line devoid of expression.

“Okay, Jen. What do you want me to say? I can’t answer you any better than you could answer me if I’d asked you the same question.”

There was no mistaking the tinge of frustration in his voice, no missing the tension of his jaw as he did his best to keep his response even.

“Where is this going?” He ran a hand across his face, blew a sigh through lips gone thin. “Beyond tonight, I don’t know and I’m not even going to try. But where would I like it to go?” He leaned across the table, and the cool shade of his eyes shifted, need becoming a glowing ember that matched the low intensity of his voice. “Right now, what I want to do is take you back to your hotel. And then I would like to spend the night with you, Jen. There you go. There’s my answer. It’s the only one I can give you.”

Oh, God. Oh, thank God.

His words buoyed me up and away from my insecurities once more, and I gave an internal cry of triumph. The giddy feeling of victory coursed through me, mixed with a surge of want, need, and anticipation all in response to what he’d just said. I wanted to grab him, thank him, let him know how much those words meant to me right now. But I didn’t. I kept my eyes locked to his, biting into my lower lip. After letting my stare linger on him for a moment, I let my gaze fall.

“I’m ready to go when you are, sir.”

My self-loathing shrugged.

-Okay, you win. Knock yourself out. Just… be careful. Please.-

I will.

The flare of Steve’s desire was palpable. He leaned back, and the penetration of his gaze became prickles at the back of my neck, an unspoken contract that was signed and sealed in my agreement to go with him back to my room. I watched as one finger of his hand traced a circular pattern on the tabletop, and it was as if that finger was sketching an outline on my skin rather than the white linen. I knew my words had cast the die, and his scrutiny pinning me in place was all the confirmation I needed. There was no way he could mistake my response and not know exactly what I desired. I knew it. He knew it. I was confident in my conviction, and, dear God, was I ready. I had tried to have the conversation with Thomas that I knew I needed to, but he had decided that now was the time to play some lawyer head game with me. Fine. His choice, not mine. It might be delayed, but my decision was final. It wasn’t going to change, and I couldn’t go back in time to have it at the apartment, or the airport. I had wanted it to be today, but Thomas had chosen otherwise. So be it. It would be tomorrow. And then it would be over and done.

“We have dessert and coffee coming. Once we’ve finished that, then we will leave.” His voice was full Dom once more, all power and unambiguous confidence.

“Yes, sir,” I said, a shiver of eagerness flitting over nerves already afire.

We sat in silence as I stared at the linked fingers of his hands. His presence was a palpable thing, an authority that allowed me to do what I had so long missed. To be submissive. To grab that feeling, hold on to it, pull myself into it and just let go. When he cleared his throat, the effect on me was immediate. My head snapped up to the sound.

He sat regarding me with a look I’d expected, but which still made my body flush. I remained still for him, waiting, obedient until his mouth curled upward at one corner.

“Good girl.”

It was all he said, and I melted.

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