there.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “As for tonight, I have a few things in mind.”
“Have you at least managed to sleep recently?”
He lifted his shoulder in a partial shrug. “Fifteen minutes earlier this morning maybe? More than enough for me.”
“Not if you plan on pulling another all-nighter.”
“Oh, honey, you obviously don't know me as well as you think you do.”
“You might want to fix that.” I nodded to the bag on his coffee table. “After you eat.”
“Pfft, eating can wait. That's what they invented microwaves for.”
“Well, when you put it that way—”
Any snarky remark I may have had didn't make it past my lips. Thayre pressed a hand against the small of my back and drew me to him, making sure I felt his erection before crushing his lips to mine. I tried to take a breath, but his hold on me stole the very life from my lungs.
I closed my eyes and was vaguely aware of us moving toward the stairs before opening them again.
Somehow, I found my breath, and with it, my voice. “Wait.”
Thayre paused, keeping one hand on the railing. “You okay?”
No, this isn't right. We shouldn't rush things. “Yes. Maybe...no.”
He frowned, and guilt settled in my stomach when the flicker of a smile faded from his lips. “What's wrong?”
I could almost hear him say, “You were fine with this the other night,” but the words in my head didn't belong to Thayre.
“Moyra?” He set a hand on my shoulder but didn't press me. “Maybe we should stay down here for the night.”
“I...” That's what you want, isn't it? Hell, I didn't know. What I really wanted was to keep my life as simple as possible, which didn't include a new job, a new relationship or both at the same time. “I'm sorry. This will probably sound stupid but—”
“Try me.” He stepped off the stairwell, and as he did, I realized how much taller he was. Granted I still had my flats on, but even without shoes, he was close to a foot taller than me. “Is it too much at once?”
Maybe? “I...” I wet my lips. What was I supposed to say? “ So, I noticed you were assertive the other night and...I was wondering if you might be a Dom?”
“Depends on who's asking,” Thayre said, and it was then I realized I'd given myself diarrhea of the mouth.
“Oh God, I didn't mean—Thayre, I am so sorry. It's just, I...when we—”
“Moyra,” he said, his voice wavering the slightest bit. “Perhaps this would be easier if we sat down.”
It wasn't up for discussion. Our dance toward what could've been another amazing night of sex had done a complete one-eighty, no thanks to my big mouth.
He gestured toward the sofa, and, after taking a breath, I joined him. He sat on one end, and I took a seat on the other, keeping a cushion between us. Sitting beside him right now may have pushed us back toward the stairs, but we needed to talk about this. About us. My submission.
It was out in the open now—a caged animal I'd let loose without a leash to reel it back in. And the longer the silence lingered, the more I thought this conversation was a very bad idea. Yes, I had planned on asking him eventually, but that was after I gave him my decision on the job as his first violinist. May as well kiss that career goodbye.
“So, would you like to start? Or should I?” Thayre asked, looking directly at me.
“This is crazy. I mean,” I exhaled, “talk about complicated.”
He smiled. “Complicated pretty much sums up my life. Lets me know I'm still alive.”
“By fighting with yourself every day?”
“Who says I'm fighting?”
I looked at my lap. “ But it's two different lives. How can you balance something like that? I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this.”
“Moyra, this doesn't change anything. For me, you, or whatever we have going on between us.”
“But it does.” I met his gaze, but I couldn't return his supportive smile. “God, I've been fighting that part of myself since my ex,
“Have you at least managed to sleep recently?”
He lifted his shoulder in a partial shrug. “Fifteen minutes earlier this morning maybe? More than enough for me.”
“Not if you plan on pulling another all-nighter.”
“Oh, honey, you obviously don't know me as well as you think you do.”
“You might want to fix that.” I nodded to the bag on his coffee table. “After you eat.”
“Pfft, eating can wait. That's what they invented microwaves for.”
“Well, when you put it that way—”
Any snarky remark I may have had didn't make it past my lips. Thayre pressed a hand against the small of my back and drew me to him, making sure I felt his erection before crushing his lips to mine. I tried to take a breath, but his hold on me stole the very life from my lungs.
I closed my eyes and was vaguely aware of us moving toward the stairs before opening them again.
Somehow, I found my breath, and with it, my voice. “Wait.”
Thayre paused, keeping one hand on the railing. “You okay?”
No, this isn't right. We shouldn't rush things. “Yes. Maybe...no.”
He frowned, and guilt settled in my stomach when the flicker of a smile faded from his lips. “What's wrong?”
I could almost hear him say, “You were fine with this the other night,” but the words in my head didn't belong to Thayre.
“Moyra?” He set a hand on my shoulder but didn't press me. “Maybe we should stay down here for the night.”
“I...” That's what you want, isn't it? Hell, I didn't know. What I really wanted was to keep my life as simple as possible, which didn't include a new job, a new relationship or both at the same time. “I'm sorry. This will probably sound stupid but—”
“Try me.” He stepped off the stairwell, and as he did, I realized how much taller he was. Granted I still had my flats on, but even without shoes, he was close to a foot taller than me. “Is it too much at once?”
Maybe? “I...” I wet my lips. What was I supposed to say? “ So, I noticed you were assertive the other night and...I was wondering if you might be a Dom?”
“Depends on who's asking,” Thayre said, and it was then I realized I'd given myself diarrhea of the mouth.
“Oh God, I didn't mean—Thayre, I am so sorry. It's just, I...when we—”
“Moyra,” he said, his voice wavering the slightest bit. “Perhaps this would be easier if we sat down.”
It wasn't up for discussion. Our dance toward what could've been another amazing night of sex had done a complete one-eighty, no thanks to my big mouth.
He gestured toward the sofa, and, after taking a breath, I joined him. He sat on one end, and I took a seat on the other, keeping a cushion between us. Sitting beside him right now may have pushed us back toward the stairs, but we needed to talk about this. About us. My submission.
It was out in the open now—a caged animal I'd let loose without a leash to reel it back in. And the longer the silence lingered, the more I thought this conversation was a very bad idea. Yes, I had planned on asking him eventually, but that was after I gave him my decision on the job as his first violinist. May as well kiss that career goodbye.
“So, would you like to start? Or should I?” Thayre asked, looking directly at me.
“This is crazy. I mean,” I exhaled, “talk about complicated.”
He smiled. “Complicated pretty much sums up my life. Lets me know I'm still alive.”
“By fighting with yourself every day?”
“Who says I'm fighting?”
I looked at my lap. “ But it's two different lives. How can you balance something like that? I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this.”
“Moyra, this doesn't change anything. For me, you, or whatever we have going on between us.”
“But it does.” I met his gaze, but I couldn't return his supportive smile. “God, I've been fighting that part of myself since my ex,
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