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SEVEN

Sunday morning. Shaye stretched, opened his eyes

to the dim morning light. He glanced at the clock. Not quite eight. He was surprised he hadn't slept longer. He'd stayed up making love to Devin until nearly four. Making love? Is that what it had been?
Jesus.
He was in deep fucking trouble here.
He glanced over at Devin's sleeping face. She was too beautiful to be believed. So damn innocent in sleep. Not much more than when she was awake, really, which was part of the attraction. But there was a hell of a lot more to it than that. Last night had proved it, if he hadn't known it before.
Why the hell had he slept with her? He'd known he shouldn't
do it. Known he should never have taken her to Sanctuary. He knew
what the rules were there: if he brought her there once, if she liked
it, wanted it, then he would have to collar her before he took her
back. He'd had the members' approval of her, no doubt about it. He could take her back. But if he did, it would mean she belonged to him. It would mean the kind of commitment he'd never made to a woman in his life. One he never should make.
He was his father's son, after all, wasn't he?
He'd really fucked up this time. And now Devin would have to pay the price as much as he would. He could see it in her. She didn't even try to hide her feelings. He knew last night had meant something to her. Hell, it had meant something to him, too. That was the problem. As he watched her tranquil features, her long lashes fluttered, opened, and her liquid green eyes stared up at him. She smiled. It went through him like a knife to the heart.
“Hey”
“Hey.” Her voice was soft with sleep. She raised her arms over her head, stretched, the sheet falling away to reveal one perfect breast, a flawless globe of milk-white flesh tipped in a hard, pink nub. His cock hardened.
Get yourself under control, man.
Yes, control. That's what was required here, before he gave into his need for this woman. A need that raced through his veins like fire. That hammered at his mind so he could barely think straight anymore.
He reached out, stroked a long strand of silky red hair from her face, but he had to pull his hand back at the jolt of emotion that went through him like an electric shock. He couldn't do this. “Hey, I'm gonna go.”
“Go?” She sat up in bed, the sheet falling completely away now.
He tried not to look at the luscious mounds of her breasts. “Yeah. I have work to do.” He got out of bed and stood, feeling oddly naked, even though being naked had never bothered him before.
“But it's Sunday.”
I

“Yeah, well . . . “ His voice trailed off as he went into the living room, found his discarded clothes and slipped back into his boxers, his slacks. He drew his shirt over his arms, didn’t bother to button it. f He went back into the bedroom. Devin was up now, wearing a short champagnecolored silk kimono that was falling off one shoulder. Her hair fell in a smooth curtain against the silk, a gorgeous contrast. I “Shaye? Is there something else going on?”
He could hear the edge of panic in her voice, felt it himself.
“I just have to go.” |
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, neither do I.”

He started to turn away, to go back into the living room to find his shoes, but she put a hand on his arm.
“Shaye, you have to talk to me.” J
Fuck. She was right. He owed her better than this. He bit down I hard on his lip. “Okay. Okay.” He turned back to face her, saw the emotion on her face. It made him feel like a criminal.
He scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Look, Devin, things are pretty damn intense between us. Too intense.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm saying that I'm not made for this stuff. Relationships. Commitment.
And that's what it would have to be between us.”
“Why not?”
A damn good question. He paused, blew out a long breath. “I was raised to be . . . I was raised with the idea that this is how a man operates. That committing myself to any one woman is suicide.” “That's ridiculous.”
“Not if you grew up with my father.”
She shook her head. “I'm sorry for whatever you went through with your dad. But that doesn't mean you have to buy into that idea.”
He could feel the cold hardening inside him as his walls went up.
“I've seen what can happen when you don't.”
“Oh, Shaye . . .”
“Don't. I don't need anyone's pity, Devin. Especially yours.” Why was he so angry suddenly? He had to get the hell out of there. “I need to go.”
“Shaye, please.”
But he hardly heard her through the heavy gray fog clouding his brain, his senses. He grabbed his shoes on the way out the door and almost ran the four floors down to his car. His hands shook as he tried to fit the key in the door. Finally he managed it, got in and sped off into the dark, damp morning.
Devin could not believe what had just happened.
Last night had been the most supremely wonderful night of her life, and now . . . this. Her chest ached as though she were weighted down with stones, and the tears fell, fast and furious.
What had he said about his father? She could piece it together well enough. That his father had turned into some kind of womanizer after his mother's death. That the man had vowed never to allow himself to be hurt by becoming attached to a woman who might leave, one way or another. She got that. But despite the way his father had raised him, Shaye did feel something for her. She knew it as thoroughly as she knew what was in her own heart.
What she didn't get was, if he felt anything even close to what she was feeling, how could he possibly walk away? How could he do this to her? To himself? And what, if anything, could she do now? She was too hurt, too shattered, to even think straight. She needed help.
She picked up the phone and dialed Kimmie's number.
Her friend answered in a sleep-fogged voice. “Hello?” “Kimmie, it's me. I'm sorry to wake you. I'm sorry—“ Her voice broke on a sob.
“Devin? What's wrong? Are you okay?”
The tears poured over her hot cheeks. “No. I'm not okay. Right now I don't know if I ever will be again.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Oh God, Kimmie, there's so much I haven't told you.”
“You can tell me now, Dev.”
“I don't even know where to start.” She pulled a handful of tissues from the box beside her bed, blew her nose. “Remember that guy I saw at the Ring that night with you?” “Yeah, the hot one with the goatee?”
“Yes. Kimmie, I've been seeing him and .. . we've been . . . I've done some experimenting with him . . . No, it's more than that, to be perfectly honest. I've gone into this... into the whole BDSM thing full force. And I love it. I feel like it's opened this part of myself I never even knew was there. A part that needed opening, you know? A part that needed to just let go for once. But there's so much more to it than even that. There's this incredible, intense connection. Something on a very deep level. Something unlike anything I've ever experienced before. And I . . . I've fallen so hard for him. And now he's gone.”
“Oh honey.”
“And the worst part is, I know he has feelings for me, too. I could see it in everything he did, everything he said. The way he looked at me. God.” She had to pause, to take in a deep breath at the memory of his eyes, those deep, hazel eyes that held so much. The tears wanted to come again, but she held them back. “I know that's what drove him away, that he felt something for me. How fucking tragic is that?”
Kimmie was silent a moment. Then she said quietly, “Just because he left doesn't necessarily mean you have to let him go. You're a strong woman, Devin, not some passive mouse who just lies down and takes whatever the world dishes out. I mean, if you got nothing out of having to deal with your mother growing up, you got that. This doesn't have to be any different.”
“I don't know this time. I feel weaker than I ever have in my life.
J u s t . . . crushed by this.”
“Love will do that to you, I guess. But you're still
you
on the inside, Dev.” Love? Is that what this was? This raging longing, this need for him that went far beyond the mere physicality of the chemistry between them?
God, I'm in love with him.
“You still there, Dev?”
“What? Yes. I'm just thinking about what you said. And you're right, Kimmie. God, you are so right. I have to find him, talk to him. Now. I'm sorry...”
“Don't be. I'd rather see you strong like this.”
“I'll call you, let you know what happens.”
“Don't worry about me right now. Just go.”
Devin hung up the phone, threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, grabbed her purse, her cell phone. She was already in the elevator, surrounded by the scent and memory of their anticipatory ride up last night, before she realized she had no idea where to look. She didn't even know where he lived. He'd never told her. This was crazy. Hopeless. As the elevator made its descent, she sank to the floor and cried.
Shaye cruised up and down the hills of San Francisco,
not even knowing where he was going. He didn't want to go home,
didn't want to go anywhere except back to Devin. But that was the one thing he could not do. No matter how his body, his mind, his heart craved to just be with her. It meant something now, and so he had to let her go.
Didn't he?
He downshifted and made a right turn. Where the hell was he? Somewhere by Golden Gate Park, Stanyan Street. He could see the shadowed green of the trees looming ahead. He made a left onto Haight Street, home of the bohemian, the punks, the Goths, the homeless, the displaced.
That's how he felt right now. Displaced. And it was because he'd left Devin behind. Left behind the first and only woman he had ever loved.
Goddamn it!
He pounded his fist on the steering wheel. This was not fucking possible. This was
him.
His father's son. And the Vincent men did not love, not since his mother had left them. The voice of reason in his head told him she had died. He knew that, damn it. But she'd left them all the same.
Suddenly, he remembered the sensation of his mother's arms around him, the scent of her: lemon verbena. Remembered the way she sang to him at night. It hadn't all been bad. In fact, while she'd been there, loving them both, it had been pretty damn good. And now he was going to turn his back on the one woman to offer him love, to offer that kind of feminine comfort. And why? Because his father was an asshole who had shut down after his mom died. And had raised him to be the same kind of asshole. Maybe he didn't need to be that anymore. Maybe Devin was
already teaching him that he could be different, if only he was smart
enough to pay attention. He pulled over in front of a thrift store, the
colorful window display a sharp contrast to the empty, foggy morning,
to the panicked desolation he felt inside. He pulled out his cell and dialed her number.

She 'd taken the elevator back up to her apartment
made herself a cup of tea to warm her ice-cold hands, her aching and frozen heart. Now she stood by the window, looking out, but seeing nothing, trying to stop shaking. When her phone rang the sharp sound made her jump, her tea splashing on the hardwood floor. She pulled her cell from her jeans pocket and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Devin.”
“Shaye?” Her heart tumbled in her chest.
“I need to talk to you.”
His voice was commanding again, certain. She did her best to prevent her voice from quavering as it wanted to.
“Yes, I need to talk to you, too.”
“I'm coming. Wait there for me. Will you do that?”
She gathered her strength around her, felt the sensation of her body filling up with it. And oddly enough, she drew even more from him. From Shaye. “Yes. I'll wait. But not forever.” “You have every right to be pissed at me. Furious. I understand that. And I'm going to try to get this all straightened out. Just. . . wait for me. I'll be there as soon as I can.”
Twenty long, nerve-wracking minutes passed before she heard his knock on her door. When she opened it, the first thing she noticed was the torn expression on his face. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to make him feel better, to make herself feel better. But she needed to hear what he had to say for himself first. She tucked her hands in her pockets and stood back. “Come in.”
He closed the door behind him, stalked over to the sofa but didn't sit down. He stood and stared at her, his eyes dark and so full of emotion she wanted to cry again.
Strong. Be strong.
Finally, he dropped his head, took in a deep, sighing breath, then raised his eyes to hers, locked there.
“I had no idea this would be so hard.”
She took a step toward him. “What?”
“Being with you. Being with anyone. It's always been easy for me.
Just have my fun, then move on. But I can't live like that anymore.” “What do you mean?” Her pulse was racing, her blood hot and thick in her veins.
He ran a hand through his short thatch of hair. “Fuck it, Devin. I love you. I'm in love with you.”
Tears rose, clogged her throat. All she could do was shake her head, all strength draining out of her in a warm rush of longing. “I know. It's insane. We hardly know each other. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm finally feeling something, for the first time since my mom died. And it's because of you.” In two long strides he was across the room. He held her arms.
“You're shaking, Devin. Say something.”
She had to take a deep, gasping breath before she could speak. “Please don't say this unless you mean it, Shaye. Don't say this unless it means you're going to stay with me. I can't take it.” “Jesus. I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you again.” He paused, tightened his grip on her arms. “Do you love me, Devin?” His eyes were absolutely blazing.
She nodded her head slowly. “Yes. I love you. Goddamn it, you know I do!” With that admission came her strength, flooding back into her in a wild rush. He pulled her close, crushed her body to his. When she lifted her chin, his mouth came down hard on hers, bruising, punishing. But it was exactly what she needed. His mouth was sweet and demanding all at once, just like him. She wouldn't have him any other way. He pulled back, held her face in his hands and gazed down at her. “I want it all, Devin. I want to be with you, only you. I want to take you back to Sanctuary, to put my collar around your neck. To make you mine completely. Do you understand what that means?” “Yes.” Her heart was fluttering like a bird in her chest, needing to burst out, to fly. It meant he was hers, every bit as much as she belonged to him. Heart, body, soul. He was the man of her dreams, lovely dreams she'd never even known she had. And Shaye had been the one to show her. It hadn't been an easy journey, but then, nothing worth having came easily, did it?
“You hurt me, Shaye. I don't like that you can do that. But I accept it, that there is this one thing I have absolutely no control over. I have to if I'm going to love you, if you're going to love me. It's a risk I'm willing to take.”
“I realized the reason I left is that I couldn't handle that
you
could hurt
me.
That it's actually possible for the first time in my empty fucking life for any woman to have that much .. . power over me.” “That's why we have to trust each other. Why we have to trust that we won't abuse that power. It's the same way I have to trust you when we're in the roles of dominant and submissive. It's that same exchange of power that puts us on an even playing field, that balances it all out.” He stroked her flushed cheeks with his thumbs, the warmth of him seeping into her skin, then he bent his head and kissed her. This time it was a soft kiss, a tender kiss. A kiss filled with promise. “I love you,” he whispered against her mouth. “I love you. Jesus, I love you.”
The tears stung her eyes again. Her heart filled, swelled. And her body curled into his as though it belonged there. She was certain now that it did.
Yes, he would take her back to Sanctuary, collar her; they would make that binding commitment to each other. But none of it could compare to that sense of absolute Tightness she felt in his arms. She had found her sanctuary with him.