Page 49 of Dance for Me

“Five,” she argued. She could stand her ground against the Mistress for five minutes. Her once immaculate inner fort might be in ashes after Braun destroyed it, but she still had her pride to guard.

“Twenty-five.”

She goggled at him. ”What? No!”

“Thirty.”

Oh, the dirty, rotten bastard. I see your game. “Braun, this isn’t funny. I’ll stay for ten minutes, okay? Ten minutes and then I’m going home.”

“Thirty-five. And little one, you’re not going home tonight.”

Even though she recognized he added time for her responses, she couldn’t help herself. “You can’t just dictate my life, Braun. If I say I’m going home, I’m going home whether you like it or not.”

Gently, he pried her fingers off his hand, making her feel like he’d just cut them off. The sense of loss through severing that simple connection was appalling. “For one, I can dictate your life when you make idiotic decisions that put your health and safety at risk. Driving home tonight is foolish and unnecessary when there's a bed in my house you can bunk on.”

“I am not sleeping in your bed.”

“Forty-five. My bed is an option; however I was referring to the guest bed. For another, it would please me if you would stay. Tonight hasn’t been the easiest, and I want to make sure you’re all right before you return to your solitary existence.”

Damn him. “If you’d asked, I would’ve thought about it.”

Braun grinned and ran his hand over her hair, gave her disheveled ponytail a brief tug. “No, my obstinate little one, you wouldn’t. Enjoy your fifty minutes with Connie.” He patted her head as she spluttered at him, then walked over to the visitor’s chair where she’d left her clothes neatly folded when she’d changed earlier. Scooping them up, he said to Connie, “She’s naked under the blanket. Make sure it remains in here even if Boadicea doesn’t.”

What the hell did he mean by... “You asshole! Give me my clothes!”

“That was your last free shot at swearing at me, Boadicea.” The stern Dominant rose swiftly to the surface and glared at her. “Only because this is a stressful situation. The next time you call me—or Connie—a disrespectful name, my palm will make a full and thorough introduction to your backside. I expect my subs to be polite if nothing else.”

With her escape plan bundled under his arm, Braun nodded curtly at the Mistress, then strode from the office, shutting the door behind him with an ominously angry snick.

For several seconds, Bodie waited for him to return. He just needed a few minutes to realize this was a mistake, that was all. He’d think it over, kick himself for being an ass, and come back to rescue her. They’d brush off this therapy nonsense and he’d let her snuggle back onto his knees, and they’d forget this horrible interlude.

Miserably, Bodie swiped at her face. Her hands came back wet.

Connie sighed and quietly carried the visitor’s chair over to the couch. She sat down, perched one heeled foot on the opposite knee, and folded her hands. “Do you know,” she began, “Braun is head over heels for you?”

Disgusted by the tears rolling down her cheeks, Bodie snorted. “Hah. I’m a challenge for him. An unwritten book in a library full of volumes he’s probably already read.”

“He’s played with a few submissives, yes, as have we all. But while he’s not a mean or abusive Master in any shape or form, he has never been known for having the unlimited depth of patience he’s exhibiting with you. That tells me you’re something special, Bodie, on many levels.”

“He’ll get bored of me sooner or later. If he wants special, I’m not it.”

“I disagree. The blanket you’re clutching like a lifeline? He bought it for you, Bodie. Especially for you. He’s never done that before.”

“All the...subs in the club have one. I’ve seen them.”

“Look again,” Connie advised. “The club provides standard subbie aftercare blankets. They’re lovely, can’t argue with that. Soft, comforting, but uniform. Each one is the same, bought in bulk. Every night, they’re washed, dried, pressed, and folded for the next evening. Yours is top quality. Faux fur with the velvet plush on the inside. Expensive. He bought you something that makes you stick out from the crowd. Because he wants the rest of us to know how special you are to him, and because he wants you to feel adored. Cherished.”

Bodie fondled the cloud-soft material. “He’ll just give it to the next one he takes when I’m nothing but an ugly memory.”

“Knowing the man for as long as I have, I can honestly say he won’t. He sees you as his. Staked his claim on you. He will worship the ground you walk on, sweetheart, unless you continue pushing him away. So my question is, why are you?”

Weren’t they supposed to tackle polite small talk before the woman smacked her with the heavy shit? “I don’t know.”

Liar, liar, panties on eternal fire.

“Oh, you do. All the answers are in you, Bodie. You and I are going to dig deep and pull them out, one by one. We won’t manage to get all of them into the open tonight; I fear that’s an impossible task. The problem with repressing key events in your life, sweetheart, is that no matter how hard you keep bouncing on them and shoving more into the vault, those suckers will just stage an uprising and burst free to cause pain and havoc.”

As edgy as she felt, Connie’s understanding tone pulled Bodie into a weird place. One where maybe she wasn’t alone with what was going on inside her, where there was someone who had personal experience with the hell she suffered.

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