Chapter Five

ISABELLA

It isn’t the first time he’s said something like that to me, but his words never fail in making me freeze for a moment.

I hope I’m able to play it off, but the amused chuckle leaving his broad chest tells me otherwise.

“Arms up,” he orders gently, slipping his t-shirt over my head before he pulls his boxer briefs back on and winds his fingers into mine, leading me out.

We make it to the kitchen, the cold marble floor making me shiver slightly before he gestures toward one of the tall stools around the island and tells me to sit. He moves around the kitchen lazily, the way his boxers sit low but tight on his waist making my mouth go dry. I’m lost staring at the curves of his bitable ass when he turns and faces me, my new view making my head swim with impure thoughts.

“What’s your poison?” he asks, pulling my eyes up to the open freezer door. “Cherry Garcia, Chunky Monkey or Half Baked?”

“Chunky Monkey,” I answer, resting my chin on my palm as he gives me a nod, reaching for two spoons and taking the seat across from me.

“Good choice,” he says as he sets the lid to the side, handing me a spoon. “Ladies first.”

I sit on my feet and lean over the counter, meeting him halfway as he rests on his elbows across from me, doing the same.

We take turns sinking our spoons into the container, nearly a third of the way down before he finally breaks the silence.

“What did you do today?”

“Gym, laundry, talked to my parents. Typical Saturday,” I shrug. “You?”

“Lunch meeting in Miami, looked at some real estate, bought a boat,” he says nonchalantly.

“Wow,” I reply, my feigned disinterest as I slowly pull the spoon from my lips making him smirk. “That sounds pretty boring.”

I get lost in my thoughts and once more, the room goes quiet, something that’s been rare in our short time together. By the time the bottom of the carton is nearing, my thoughts are moving a million miles a minute. When I’ve nearly had enough, I’m about to break my silence when he does it for me.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his eyes on me. “You’ve grown quiet.”

“Nothing, I just…” shaking my head as I raise my gaze to his, not surprised to find his jaw clenching.

“You should know by now how much lying infuriates me, Isabella,” he says quietly, taking another bite before sliding his spoon between his lips, looking down at me. “If there’s something you need to say, I expect you to say it.”

I study him for a minute, biting the inside of my cheek for a moment, his brow raising as he releases a sigh of frustration.

“Okay,” I put my hands up in defeat. “But if I ask you, do you promise to tell me the truth?”

“Of course,” he promises easily. “I have no reason to lie to you.”

“Alright,” I nod, releasing a low sigh at my own insecurity before the words finally come pouring out. “You’re a Dom. We know that.”

“We do.”

“I’d have to imagine that’s a pretty big part of your personality,” I reason. “It seems to be anyway.”

“You’d be right.”

“So, if that’s true, why haven’t you asked me to be your submissive?” I begin, the surprise in his gaze not lost on me, although I don’t understand it. “I mean, I thought that was kind of part of the deal when I came back.”

“I never said that.”

“Really?” I balk sarcastically, narrowing my eyes at him. “You never said that?”

“No, Isabella. I didn’t,” he insists, his voice even as he stares back at me. “I said it was something I enjoy, a personality trait I possess, not a requirement for us spending time together.”

I can tell by the shift in his demeanor that being questioned isn’t something he enjoys or is even used to. Something about his tone makes me even my features out and sit straighter for reasons I don’t understand. I quickly replay the conversation for the third time today alone, knowing it inside out.

“Okay, well maybe you didn’t say it in so many words,” I allow. “But I feel like it was kind of implied.”

“Do you?” he asks, his lips quirking up on either side. “Is that the reason you came back?”

“No,” I shake my head, searching carefully for my words. “And you said it wasn’t an immediate thing, so maybe that’s all it is, but I guess I just kind of assumed that your… preferences…” I say awkwardly, making him swallow a deep laugh. “I don’t know. I guess I just thought it would have come up by now. Unless I’m missing something.”

“I’ve been pretty upfront with you, haven’t I?” he asks. I nod my agreement. “So, what would you be missing?”

“I don’t know,” I shrug.

“Bullshit,” he says bluntly. “Try again.”

“It’s not bullshit,” I roll my eyes, settling back into my seat and turning away from him slightly. “I can only guess since you haven’t talked to me about it, but I mean, it’s gotta be a trust thing, right?”

“Bella, if I didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be sitting half naked in my kitchen eating ice cream with me right now,” he counters, shaking his head. “It’s not that, it’s just…”

He swallows a smirk he thinks I haven’t seen before righting his features and looking away.

“What?” I insist, hating that he won’t meet my eyes.

“Are you quite certain you want my total honesty? You don’t always like it.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright,” he sighs, glancing back down at me in deliberation before my impatience demands otherwise. “Isabella, I’m not entirely sure that specific role is one you’d enjoy. Sexually? You’re a natural, but… verbally?” My eyes narrow and he can no longer fight the amusement resting in his chest. “Since we’ve started this conversation, you’ve displayed no less than eight punishable offenses,” he laughs, leaning back lazily in his chair. “As you might imagine, I have a tendency to be quite strict. If you were my sub, you’d spend the bulk of your days in the proverbial doghouse.”

“So, basically what you’re telling me is that you don’t think I can do it?”

“I never said that, either,” he insists. “I think you can do anything you set your mind to, but that type of relationship isn’t about what you’re able to do. It’s about whether or not your submissive desires compliment my dominance in every aspect,” he explains. “I’m not sure your list of desires includes being punished on a constant basis, which after the last two months, I’m fairly convinced would become your fate.”

“Well, I get paid to kiss your ass at work all day and you’re already fucking me,” I counter, his jaw tensing as I roll my eyes. “It can’t be that hard.”

“Hmm… make that eleven.”

ADAM

Although she’s reasonably calm, it couldn’t be more obvious to me that she’s irritated as we make our way toward my bedroom.

“You do realize being my sub isn’t just about us fucking and you kissing my ass all day, don’t you?”

“If I’m being honest, Adam, no. I’d really have no idea what it entails,” she says, her voice thick with sarcasm as she bats her eyelashes for a moment before deadpanning and looking up at me. “Perhaps I’d have a better understanding about it if I were deemed worthy enough for that particular conversation.”

“Isabella?”

“What?”

“I think right now, you should be very grateful that I’m not your Dom,” I say calmly, pulling the covers back and gesturing for her to get in bed. “Come on. It’s bedtime.”

“I’m not tired yet,” she says, ignoring my frustration as she holds my eyes. “Why should I be grateful?”

“Because if you were in training right now…” I trail off, clearing my throat and rubbing my palm over my thigh to ease the anxious tingle just beneath the skin. “Let’s just say our evening would be headed in a much different direction, little one.”

“What are you saying, Mr. Avery?” she challenges me, her voice husky. “That you want to punish me?”

“Oh, I’d like to do much more than that.”

She’s breathing unsteady, her tits pressed firm against the fabric of my t-shirt. Her gaze is hooded, her thighs clenched together slightly at the idea of me having my way with her, owning her.

“But you won’t,” she says, her low voice bringing me from my thoughts.

“No,” I shake my head. “Not right now.”