deny her words. He had too many notches on his belt to refute what she’d said. But this was different; so different, he had no idea what to say.
She spoke to him as if he were a stubborn child. “Listen. I feel something right now, right here.” She pointed to her chest. “I don’t know if it’s because of what you did to me or something more. But I do know that I hate saying good-bye. More than anything. And the longer you stay, the harder it’s gonna be. So please. Just go.”
He shook his head. “It would be totally irresponsible for me to leave you now. It’s a dominant’s responsibility to care for his submissive.” The words sounded rote, mechanical. And desperate.
“I’m fine. Please, Mark. Go back to your hotel. Get some sleep. Please. Just go .”
“It doesn’t feel right.” And it didn’t. The total wrongness of the situation hit him like a punch in the gut. Just a short time ago he’d been flying after what had been a nearly perfect night with a nearly perfect woman. And now that perfect woman was kicking him out of her apartment.
When had he lost control?
The feeling was unfamiliar and unwelcome. His heart beat a disturbing rhythm in his chest, and he wanted to run. Run away from this feeling.
Run away from her.
“Fine, baby. Whatever you want.” He spun on his heel and stalked toward her living room where his boots and jacket lay next to the chair. He tried not to think about Ruby’s naked ass as she’d bent over that chair. Tried not to picture the marks he’d left with his belt.
His marks. He laughed wryly as he yanked on one black boot. She was right. He’d never see her again. They’d already fucked; what did he care if she wanted him gone? Usually he was dying to sleep in his own bed. This wasn’t any different.
He stood and slid the belt back through the loops of his jeans.
Then, shaking his head in the silence, he left.
Chapter
Seven
R uby heard her front door shut. Not a slam, but not soft, either. It was the sound of a person sure of where he was going. It was the sound of Mark leaving.
Just as you asked him to.
She took a deep breath and looked at her open bedroom door. She heard a car go by, heard a siren in the distance. The city was alive, breathing, but inside her flat everything was quiet and still. Dead air.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Had she made a mistake sending him away? But she’d meant what she’d said. She hated saying good-bye. It sounded so lame, so neurotic. But hey, she’d never claimed to be normal.
Even now, as sensation returned to her overstimulated body, she realized she enjoyed the way her ass throbbed from Mark’s impromptu paddling. And it turned her on all over again.
What was wrong with her?
Have you ever been spanked? Meg’s question bounced around in her head.
Twelve hours ago, that answer had been no; nothing but a secret fantasy, and now… it was very real.
Flopping back onto the mattress, she smiled a secret smile. She’d just had her first spanking. From Mark St. Crow, up-and-coming rock god.
Maybe she could have handled things differently, been more diplomatic instead of freaking out and kicking him out. But it was for the best, it really was. If she’d let him stay, she wouldn’t have known if he truly wanted to be there, or if he was simply being a gentleman by staying the night.
He’d been irritated that she’d made him go, but hey, that was probably because it had never happened before.
He’d get over it. Just as she would get over him.
She stepped over the edge of the mountain hot spring. Steam rose in billowing, hot clouds around her. With such pristine water it was hard to tell where the bottom was, but the water was too tempting. She jumped in.
The spring was hot, but it didn’t burn her. Instead it seeped into her bones as she floated on her back. She tried not to think about how deep the water was because when she did fear pierced her. Deep waters terrified her, always had.
Her eyes popped open. She
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