Adventurous Me (24 page)

Vännan
.

My heart sinks into my stomach and everything is blurry through my tears. I stare at the collar, so delicate and fine, and I remember the nights we lay together in his big bed, rocking into each other, our hearts beating in synchronicity. I remember the day he kissed me and I knew something was happening between us. And suddenly, I try to remember that last day and I can’t. It’s gone. All I can remember is the first time he smiled for me, and I begin to sob. I don’t know what to do – I’m crying so hard that I can’t get up and walk out, but I can’t just sit there. And then the worst possible thing happens.

They call my name.

Before I can stop myself, my feet are on the move. The people in the room are like water, rolling away and creating a path to the stage for me, the Red Sea parting and dry land appearing, sending me on to the Promised Land, my own fair hell. I wish they’d been a little less helpful, but they aren’t, damn them. I get to the stage, manage to climb the two steps, and stand there, my face a mess, my mascara running, I’m sure. Then the voice calls out, “This sub awaits collaring. Is there a Dom who will claim her for his own?”

I see movement in the crowd. To my horror, Steffen and Gary both show up at the edge of the stage, and Trevor is hovering nearby. It doesn’t matter that Clint isn’t here; I can’t give my heart to any of these men. It isn’t mine to give away anymore.

Steffen and Gary mount the steps and I’m almost in a panic. That’s when I look down and see what I’m holding in my hand.

The collar. I didn’t realize I was still clutching it until that moment, and when both of them make it up onto the stage, I do what I have to do, what I need to do, what I want to do more than anything in that moment. I pull it open and slip it on my neck. They both stare at me like I’m insane, but it feels right. And there’s only one thing left to do. I drop to my knees and fall prostrate on the floor. I know I’ll still be here tomorrow morning, but I don’t care. I want everyone to just go away and let me have this moment, this snapshot in time when I give myself to a man without his desire or knowledge and take the pain it offers me.

The room gets quiet. There are no voices and no movement. I don’t know how long I’m here, but it seems like forever before I feel a hand on my arm and I know who it is without looking up. Dave whispers down to me, “Trish? Honey? Let’s get up. You can’t stay here. Come on, I’ll help you.”

“No! Leave me alone! I want to stay here until he gets here, Dave, please?” It’s too late to save face. I’m embarrassing myself and I don’t care.

“He’s not coming. Honey, come on. We can go to my office. It’ll be okay.” He takes my arm and tries to help me up, but I fight him off, push at him, lash out.

From the back of the room I hear a voice growl, “Get your hands off my sub.” There’s a ripple of whispers across the crowd, and I wonder what’s going on, but I don’t care. This is where I want to stay.

Dave’s voice is different when I hear him reply, “I’m sorry, sir,” and his footsteps echo as he climbs down off the stage. I hear another set of footsteps approach me, and a presence comes into my space. There’s energy and heat radiating from it and I wait, not daring to hope, until a palm rests on my head and there’s a whisper in my ear.

“My Vännan, come to your love. Please, baby?”

I can’t see him through my tears, but I know his arms, and in a split second I’m in them and gripping his neck like there’s no tomorrow. I hear that deep, warm voice say, “I’m so sorry, angel. I didn’t think you wanted to see me, but I couldn’t stay away. Please, please, don’t give up on me.”

He’s squeezing me so tightly that I have trouble pulling away from him but when I do, I don’t say a word. I just point to my neck. His hands wipe away my tears, but they do nothing for his own, his face slick with them, his cheeks shiny and soaked, and I just stare at him, at those beautiful eyes. The only thing I can rasp out in reply is, “Oh god, please don’t hurt me anymore.”

He pulls me into his chest and leans into my ear, his breath warm on my skin when he whispers back, “Never again. Never, ever again.” As he leans back from me, he takes a look at my tear-stained face and the gift of his love around my neck, and he presses his lips to mine.

And there they are, soft and warm and sweet, those lips I tasted over and over, that I hoped would eventually say something magical and wonderful to me. I feel his arms wrap tight around me and my fingers wind into his hair, holding his face to me, begging without words, pleading for something, anything, to hang onto. He hands it to me on a silver platter when he murmurs into my ear, sultry and low, “Trish, I love you. I want to be the Dom, the man, you trust and look up to, who never lets you down and always walks beside you, who never lets you fall or drift away. You gave me your love, and I didn’t see it for the rare, precious thing it is. But, baby, it’s really all I need to make my life complete.”

He watches as I take the collar off and hand it to him. At first I can see that he’s horrified, and then he understands what I’m doing, what I’m asking of him. I stand and wait. Coming up off of his knees, he faces me with the collar in his hands. He takes a deep, ragged breath and asks, in front of the entire room, “Submissive, I come today to ask for your service and to offer you this token of my devotion as your Dominant for all my days. What say you to my offering?”

I smile and start to cry again. He reaches over and wipes my eyes with the back of his hand, and I try again. “Sir, I desire to call you Master and to serve under your care and devotion as your dedicated submissive for all my days.”

“Then kneel before me and accept my collar.” I kneel in a perfect presentation pose and Clint leans down to slip the collar around my neck, then takes a tiny padlock from his pocket and snaps it shut on the hasps at the back of the collar. I can’t help it – I reach up and finger its delicacy, the warmth of his hands still in the metal. As soon as I hear the lock snap, I lean forward and kiss his shoes, first the left, then the right. When I rise upright again, he reaches a hand down to me and says, “Submissive, come to your master.”

I’m in his arms. That’s the only place I’ve wanted to be. As he hugs me tight, I peek over his shoulder and see Dave, tears rolling down his face. Our eyes meet, and he gives me a thumbs-up as he disappears in the direction of his office.

When Clint takes my hand, he leads me off the stage and down the back hallway amid gasps, murmurs, and whispers, and I wonder where we’re going. He opens the door to the nicest of the private rooms and closes it behind us once we’re inside. “What are we doing here?”

He smiles. “We’re consummating our union. At least I hope we are.” He puts a hand on each of my cheeks, holds my face to his, and looks into my eyes. “I don’t want to fuck you. I want to make love to you. What do you say to that?”

“I say turn loose of me so I can get my clothes off!” I laugh through my tears.

He grins. “You don’t have to tell me twice!”

“It’s really quiet out there. Where’d everybody go?”

My cheek resting on his chest, I hear the rumble of a chuckle come up from down deep inside him. “I’m betting they’ve all gone home. It’s,” he says, looking at his watch, “almost three thirty in the morning.”

“Oh god! How will we get out of here?” I gasp.

He laughs and kisses the tip of my nose. “Shit, I’ve got a key, girl. I can get out of here anytime. I just don’t want to right now.” He pulls me close again and kisses me, then kisses down my chest and takes a nipple in his mouth. “God, I missed you, little sub,” he mumbles around it.

“I missed you too, Master,” I groan as his hand slips between my legs, and pretty soon his tongue replaces it.

He laughs again. “I can tell!” I’m so wet I’m dripping. Or maybe that’s his offering to me. He’s only filled me up about nine times since we came in here.

“You’re insatiable! But I’m not complaining.” His hair is soft as I run my fingers through it. “Clint, do you have some kind of plan? Where do we go from here? How does this work.”

There’s a solid, peaceful look on his face when my eyes meet his from down between my thighs. “If you mean long-term, then I want a permanent relationship. If you mean short-term, you’ve got two little girls to meet tomorrow if you think you’re ready.”

My eyes close, and I sigh and smile. “I’m ready if you are.”

He grins. “Readier than I’ve ever been.” And then he makes me squeal.

“M
rs. Winstead?”

I turn to see a teacher running toward me. It’s Mrs. Cox, Hailee’s teacher. “Yes! Hi! How are you?”

She gives me a warm smile. “I’m great! Good to see you. I saw you passing by my door and I wanted to catch you. I have something for you.” She hands me an envelope.

“What’s this?” I’m hoping it’s not bad news.

“I think you’ll like it. It’s just a copy – I have to keep the original for their portfolio. Don’t let Hailee know I’ve given you this, please? And please don’t open it until you get it home, maybe share it with Mr. Winstead.”

I can’t imagine what it could be. “Um, thanks. I’ll do that. Is Hailee doing okay in class?”

“Oh, yes ma’am. She’s doing very well. She’s a very happy little girl, and now I understand why.” She’s smiling at me kind of strangely, and I really can’t figure out what’s going on.

“That’s good. Please let us know if there’s anything we need to be doing with her.”

She shakes her head. “She’s a very smart little girl too, Mrs. Winstead. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Please, it’s Trish,” I tell her with a smile of my own.

“Trish. I’m Wendy. And she is smart, and very polite too. More so than her classmates.”

I really smile then. “Her dad expects that of them. They’re being raised to be respectful and considerate of others.”

She makes a face. “I wish I could say that about the rest of my class!” She laughs, and I have to chuckle. I’ve seen some of McKenna and Hailee’s classmates – she’s not exaggerating. “Well, it was good talking to you. Take care.” She walks away, then turns and says, “And congratulations. Enjoy that.” She points at the envelope and then walks on down the hallway.

“Here I am!” a little voice calls out. Hailee’s been at academic team practice. They start them early these days, and I hear she’s doing very well. They won’t let anyone in to observe yet; they say it just makes the kids too nervous. I’ve been on a stage, naked, in front of dozens of people. I can certainly relate.

“Come on, honey. We’re having guests for dinner tonight and I’ve got to get home. And we’ve got to stop and pick McKenna up at Taylor’s house.” As she takes my hand and we head to the car, I look down at one of the two little girls who’ve made me the luckiest woman in the world. Being the woman in their lives has been one of the sweetest adventures I could’ve ever been handed, and I’m thankful for it every second of every day. They don’t know it yet, but their biggest Christmas gift from Clint and me will be the one I’ve spent the morning arranging – my adoption of both of them. Once it’s finalized, I’ll have the children I never dreamed I’d have.

After we pick up McKenna from her friend’s house, I spend the drive home telling them about the next day and how their Grandma Marta and Nanny Angela, Clint’s mother and her partner, are coming to take them to see Santa at the mall. Marta invited Angela into the bed she shared with Dave, which was okay with him, but he said it didn’t take long before he realized that Angela wanted to top them both, and Dave couldn’t be her bottom. So he and Marta divorced amicably, and they’re all still friends; actually, sometimes the three of them still play together. The girls call him Grandpa, and they always will. Clint calls him Dad, and that’s a wonderful thing. Marta, Angela, and I have been going shopping together, having lunch, things like that. I love them both. And is it a little weird that I’ve had sex with my father-in-law and everyone in the family knows it? Yeah, but it appears that I’m the only one who finds it weird. Nobody else seems to mind. It’s a strange and wonderful little family.

“Look what I brought!” Sheila calls out as soon as she gets in the front door that evening. “I know how Clint loves my scalloped potatoes!”