“I thought that was before you started dating,” I said.
“No, it was after.”
“Huh,” I said, trying to imagine living that kind of lifestyle with Abby. “How long did that last?”
“A few months,” he answered. “It didn’t work for us. Too difficult.” I heard the smile in his voice. “So you see, Nathaniel, everyone has struggles.”
“Still?”
“Yes,” he said. “Still. Granted, they’re different now.”
I sighed, more from relief than anything. What I was experiencing was normal. Abby and I were going to be fine. It would just take time to work through everything.
“What are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked.
“I’m trying to decide if I should ask her to sleep over tomorrow night,” I said, mulling the idea over in my head. Abby had spent Thursday night with me, and I wasn’t sure she’d want to stay over until Monday.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” he said.
“Why?”
“You’re new to this dual relationship,” he explained. “And, to be honest, I see Abby being able to handle it better than you will. But you.” He hesitated. “I think you may have some emotions to work through tomorrow night. I don’t know if having her in the house when you come down from this weekend would be the best idea.”
I hadn’t thought about that, but he was probably right. I’d need time to work through for myself how the weekend had gone, even after I discussed it with her. Maybe it would be better for me to work it out alone.
After all, we still had Monday night. And Tuesday night. And Wednesday night . . .
Sam’s cries broke through my concentration.
“Ugh. He never sleeps,” Paul said. “Let me go.”
“I’m reconsidering this weekend already,” I teased.
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
We said our good-byes after I promised to talk with Abby and call him later in the week.
I hadn’t set the phone down for two minutes before it rang again.
“Hey there,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“Felicia and I wanted to invite you and Abby over for a cook-out tomorrow night,” he said. “Break the house in.”
Jackson and Felicia had recently bought a new house outside the city after Jackson decided his penthouse wouldn’t do for a newly married couple. They had started moving the previous weekend, even though I knew Felicia still
“A cookout?” I asked.
“You know,” he said. “Steaks. Potatoes. Man food. Although I might throw some fish on the grill if you want.”
“Steaks are fine,” I said, thinking frantically. “What time?” I wanted to uncollar Abby and have a discussion about the weekend before we did anything Sunday night.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Does it matter? You catching a plane?”
“How about five?” I asked. That would give us two hours. Not optimal for our first weekend, but it would work.
“Five sounds great,” he said. “Ah, no, baby,” I heard him say to someone, Felicia probably. “That has to be there. It’s a football thing.”
I coughed discreetly.
“Sorry, Nathaniel,” he said. “Chicks, you know? Love her, but leave my shit where I put it.”
As we got off the phone, I looked around my living room.
I really didn’t.
—ABBY—
“Thank you for serving me this weekend,” he said after taking the collar off on Sunday afternoon at three. His fingers stroked my bare neck and my skin delighted in the love I felt in his touch.
“Thank you for allowing me to serve you,” I said. I never wanted him to think I didn’t get just as much out of our weekend time as he did. Especially considering the mistakes I made.
It was crazy, but I felt different after the collar was off. It was difficult to describe. I wouldn’t call it a weight. It wasn’t a burden, but once it was off, I knew exactly what Nathaniel had meant when he said it put me in a certain frame of mind.
I peeked up at him and felt a smile tug at the edges of my lips.
“Will you sit with me?” he asked. “So we can talk?”
Something about him had changed as well. He looked different. Acted differently. Less certain of himself.
I wondered if it was my imagination.
The weekday me would tease him. The me of last week would answer with a snappy comeback.
But I’d spent the last two and a half days giving in to my more primitive desires, and those desires didn’t include the voicing of snappy comebacks.
He knew that, of course.
“I had hoped you would be more”—he paused, looking for the word—“
Okay, that was too much.
“You think I was inhibited this weekend?” I asked. “What part would that have been? When I was bent naked over the whipping bench? Or was tied to your padded table?” I tapped my finger to my forehead. “Oh, I know. It was the nipple clamps, wasn’t it? Definitely the nipple clamps.”
I didn’t have a chance to get to my next sassy comeback. I took a deep breath, gearing up for a nice teasing launch into Saturday night’s activities, when his hands took my face and he pulled me close for a long, passionate kiss.
“There you are,” he said when our lips parted, his hands still on either side of my face. His eyes gazed steadily into mine. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”
I ran my hands through his hair, tugging at the tousled strands. “I never left.”
“I know,” he said. “I just feared you wouldn’t talk. That this would be awkward.”
“Give me a few minutes. I just need to”—I wrinkled my eyebrows—“is
“‘Adjust’ is just as good as any,” he said, pointing to the couch. “Sit with me? It seemed to help Friday night.”
He sat down first, patting the spot next to him. “Put your feet in my lap. I’ll give you a foot rub.”
“I’m tempted to say you’ve given me far too much already.” I settled myself onto the couch, placing my bare feet in his lap. “But I’m a sucker for a foot massage.”
He smiled and took my left foot, his long fingers magical as they stroked between my toes and tugged them. “I’ve given you far too much? How is that?”
“By letting us be us,” I said. “However we choose
“Does that mean you’re not going to throw your hands up and tell me you don’t want my collar anymore?”
“Of course not. Why would you think that?” I asked.
He worked silently for a few minutes, a frown marring his expression. “I wondered if I was too rough, too hard. That you would decide you didn’t want me. Not
