AT five minutes after six, Chessy was pacing the living room checking her watch. A worried frown tugged at her lips. Surely he wouldn’t be late the very first day back at work after their come-to-Jesus anniversary weekend.
She sucked in a deep breath and tried to talk herself down. He had a client meeting at four thirty. Then there was rush-hour traffic. Not to mention he was picking up takeout. There were plenty of perfectly normal reasons he could be a few minutes late.
She checked her watch again. He was only seven minutes late. Not the end of the world. Damn her for being so paranoid. She could be flexible. He didn’t have to be at her beck and call every waking moment, nor did he have to be accountable to her for doing his job.
But it worried her. What if this weekend had been him hitting the panic button and saying and doing whatever it took to appease her? What if he had no intention of changing his routine?
Guilt crushed through her chest when she heard the sound of his car pulling up. How could she have doubted him? She forced herself not to rush to the door to greet him. There was no way she wanted him to know how worried and paranoid she’d been with no reason.
A moment later, the front door opened and Tate appeared holding a plastic bag with the take-out containers inside. He was juggling his briefcase and his suit coat as he kicked the door shut with his foot.
Chessy hurried over to him to take the bag and then leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.
“Sorry I’m late, baby,” he said, regret lining his brow. “The restaurant messed up my phone order and I had to wait for them to remake it. I got your favorite.”
Her heart melted at the very real worry in his eyes. She felt so guilty for doubting him, for worrying that he wouldn’t keep his word.
She carried the bag containing the take-out order to the breakfast nook where she’d already set out plates and silverware while Tate tossed his suit coat over the back of the sofa.
“You want wine?” she asked. “I put a bottle out a little while ago, but if you’d prefer something different, I’ll get it.”
He snagged her waist and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Whatever you picked out is fine. Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?”
A giddy thrill assailed her. Her heart turned over in her chest as she smiled broadly up at him. She wrapped both arms around him and leaned into his embrace.
Her smile became dreamy, love surging through her heart. “I’ll never get tired of you saying so.”
“Mmm, what about I love you and you’re my girl?”
She sighed. “Even better. Sit down while I pour you a glass of wine. Tell me about your day and your client meeting. Did it go well?”
A brief look of discomfort crossed his face before he turned swiftly to pull out his chair. When he was settled, he met her gaze again, no hint of the previous discomfort evident, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it.
“Oh, the usual,” Tate said in a casual tone. “The meeting was with a potential client who’s considering transferring a large portfolio to my firm. It would be quite a coup if it comes to pass.”
She set his glass of wine in front of him and then slid into the seat next to him. “That’s wonderful, Tate. You’ve worked so hard. It doesn’t surprise me that you’re landing bigger and bigger clients.”
He caught her hand and pulled her over to sit on his lap. He thrust a hand into her hair, cupping the side of her head as he tugged her down to meet his lips. “Your confidence in me and support of me means everything. Knowing my girl is behind me makes me feel like I can own the world.”
She smiled and cupped his face in her hands, returning his kiss with one of her own. “I have no doubt you could do just that if you set your mind to it.”
“I’d much prefer to own you.”
“You do, Tate. I belong to you. Always. Heart, soul, body and mind.”
“I have a surprise for you,” he murmured. “Well, two actually.”
She couldn’t control the surge of delight that made a broad smile curve her lips. She adored surprises and Tate well knew it. It didn’t matter how simple or elaborate. Anything Tate gave her was treasured and met with utter delight.
“Tell me!” she said, all but pouncing on him. She jiggled and bounced on his lap in excited anticipation.
He laughed and patted her hip. “Hop up so I can get the first one. It’s in my jacket pocket.”
She scrambled off his lap and perched on her chair, waiting impatiently as he strolled leisurely over to the couch to retrieve his coat. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a beautifully wrapped small box with a shiny silver bow. Her eyes widened and she nearly bounced out of her chair when he walked back over.
He slid the box along the tabletop until it rested in front of her.
“Happy anniversary to my girl,” he said huskily. “I intended to give it to you Friday night, but we got … sidetracked.”
She caught her frown before it appeared. Just thinking back on their emotional, gut-wrenching anniversary night was enough to remove all her present joy. So she focused instead on here and now and the fact that her husband was back.
She reverently opened the wrapping, taking her time so she didn’t tear it. He chuckled as he watched her, shaking his head.
“I’ve never understood why you don’t just rip into it. It’s just paper, Chess.”
“But it’s beautiful paper,” she protested. “I hate to tear something so pretty.”
He laughed again but fell silent until she got to the box underneath. With shaking fingers, she opened the lid and shook out the velvet jewelry case inside. She sucked in her breath when she finally managed to reveal the contents.
Inside was a radiant, sparkling diamond bracelet that caught the light and twinkled brilliantly. She held it up, viewing it in awe, and tears burned the edges of her eyelids, making the bracelet blur in her vision.
“Ah hell, Chess. Don’t cry.”
She gave him a watery smile and then sniffled. “I can’t help it. It’s gorgeous, Tate! I love it. Put it on for me, please. My hands are shaking so badly I’ll never be able to get it latched.”
He laughed but complied, carefully looping the tennis bracelet around her left wrist. It made her look and feel decadent with the gorgeous diamond wedding ring and now an equally beautiful diamond bracelet. She felt as lit up as a Christmas tree.
When he was done, she held up her arm, twisting it this way and that, watching in fascination as it caught the light and sparkled just like the Christmas tree she’d just thought she resembled.
Then she threw herself back onto his lap and kissed him ferociously. “I love it,” she said fervently. “I absolutely adore it! Thank you. You’ve made this the perfect anniversary weekend and Monday!”
A brief shadow crossed his face, as he no doubt remembered the inauspicious start to their anniversary. Sorrow and regret brimmed in his eyes before she kissed him again, soothing away the painful reminder to them both.
When she finally drew away, she remembered that he’d said he had two surprises.
“What’s the other surprise?” she asked, excitement once more bubbling to the surface.
He smiled and tenderly pushed a strand of her curly hair from her cheek. “It’s not immediate, rather it’s a surprise I’ve planned for us.”
“Oh, I like it when you say us,” she said dreamily. “What is it? Tell me, tell me!”
He chuckled. “My girl is so impatient.”
She mimicked strangling him by wrapping her fingers around his neck and adopting a ferocious scowl. “Stop holding out on me and spill.”
He kissed the tip of her nose and then pulled away so he could gaze into her eyes.
“I know it’s been a long while since we visited The House. So I’ve planned a night for us. Two weeks from now on a Friday night. I’ve even already hand-picked the man who will participate in our fantasy.”
Her pulse immediately began to race and she couldn’t control the surge of wicked anticipation that licked like flames over her skin. Images from the past, the immeasurable pleasure they’d both enjoyed, raced through her mind. Another man touching her, pleasuring her, at Tate’s behest. Under his command, always in control, stepping in only when Chessy neared her orgasm. Those belonged to him. It was one of the two things he wouldn’t allow another man. The other was that another man was never to kiss her on the lips. Some may think it was an odd “rule” but Chessy understood completely.
Kissing on the lips was decidedly more intimate than being kissed in other places. It signaled a more emotional connection, one only found between her and Tate.
“Is it someone I know?” she asked in a low voice. “I mean is it someone you’ve chosen before?”
He stroked her cheek. “Is my girl worried? We don’t have to do this, Chess. I wanted to do something special for you. For us. I know it’s something we enjoyed in the past and I’m just sorry that I’ve let it go as long as I have without giving you something that brings us both pleasure.”
“No, that isn’t it at all,” she denied. “I was merely curious. If I shouldn’t be asking or if you don’t want me to know, that’s fine. But when on earth did you have time to pull this all together? Did you plan it before our anniversary?”
She was genuinely curious to know whether he’d planned it before or after the debacle of their anniversary night.
“You have the right to know anything that affects you,” he said firmly. “To answer your question, no, this isn’t someone we’ve played with in the past. I spoke to Damon and he gave me a few names of men who didn’t mind playing the Dominant when in actuality I would be in total command of every aspect. I arranged to meet them this morning. It’s why my client meeting was so late in the day. I wish I could say that I had planned this prior to our anniversary. It’s something I should have been more aware of, and I’m sorry for that. But I picked a man I thought would give you the most pleasure while allowing me to dictate what he does and doesn’t do. When I showed him your picture I thought he was damn near going to swallow his tongue.”
He laughed as he said the last and Chessy smiled.
“So he liked what he saw?” she asked innocently.
“Oh yeah. He liked.”
A thought occurred to her, one that had her blushing to the roots of her hair. Her entire face was literally on fire.
“Tate, tell me you didn’t show him one of those pictures,” she whispered.
Those pictures being ones Tate had taken of her in different sexual positions and in various stages of undress. Bound hand and foot. Some naked and spread-eagled, her hands and feet splayed wide and restrained in all directions.
They were beautifully erotic, but only intended for Tate. It made her sound like the ultimate hypocrite, being willing to allow another man to touch her. To flog her, mark her, give her pleasure. So why object to Tate ever showing such pictures to another man?
Except that to her those pictures were personal and were meant to be shared only between her and her husband. It didn’t have to make sense to anyone but her.
Tate’s expression grew serious. He cupped her chin, rubbing his thumb gently down her jawline.
“I would never betray your trust,” he said gravely. “Those pictures are for me and only me. I showed the man—James—one of my favorite pictures of you from our vacation in the Caribbean. The one of you in that sexy sundress smiling brightly enough to outshine the sun. There isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t be on his knees to have a woman like you. And that certainly includes me. You’re mine,” he said in a thoroughly satisfied voice.
She smiled then, feeling awful for having questioned him in the first place. It was baffling to her, this new turn in their relationship, where she seemed to question him with growing frequency.
She’d never questioned him in the past. She always, without fail, abided by his decisions. Accepted without reservation whatever he chose. So why now? She bit into her bottom lip, knowing exactly why she had begun to question him, even if she hadn’t openly acknowledged it until now. She couldn’t quite shake the sense of betrayal even though Tate was going above and beyond to make amends. Maybe these things just took time. They’d both already admitted that it would take more than a weekend to set to rights two years of unhappiness and the fear of their marriage dissolving.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
His look of surprise took her aback. “What are you sorry for, baby?”
“For questioning you. For not trusting you.”
His expression softened and warmth entered his eyes. He put his arms around her and rubbed up and down her back in a soothing pattern.
“I’d say you have reason for both,” he admitted. “I haven’t acted like someone you could trust or not question over the last two years. It’s me who should be apologizing to you, not the other way around.”
“You already have. More than enough times,” she said firmly. “And my apology still stands. I gave you my trust before we were even married. I gave you my love and then my submission and then my life when I married you. I’ll never regret any of those choices, Tate. I want you to know that. As far as I’m concerned the past is in the past. We’ve moved beyond that point and I have complete faith in you that you’ll keep your promise of putting me first from now on.”
“You have the most loving, generous heart,” he said in a voice thick with emotion. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I damn sure don’t deserve your trust after I’ve failed you at every turn.”
She put her fingers to his lips to hush him before he could continue.
“I’d much rather hear about this night of decadence you’ve promised me,” she said with a wicked grin. “Or am I not allowed to know?”
He smiled back at her, the shadows erased from his eyes. This moment felt so much like old times. Her sitting on his lap and them just talking, teasing and just … being. It felt utterly perfect.
“All I will tell you is that I will personally choose what you wear to The House and, just a warning, it’s going to be positively sinful. At least for the time you’re wearing it, that is,” he said in a deliciously evil tone that sent a rush of anticipation flooding through her veins.
“Except for the shoes,” he murmured thoughtfully. “I plan to find out where Kylie got her killer fuck-me shoes because I’m buying you a pair just like them so that when I fuck you the only thing you’ll be wearing are those shoes. It will give my ‘helpers’ plenty of leverage to hold you down so you’re utterly helpless to my every whim.”
Helpers? Her mind was ablaze trying to imagine such a scenario. In all of the fantasies they’d played out at The House over the years, apart from Tate and whatever man he involved to fulfill both hers and Tate’s decadence, that was where it ended. Tate and whomever he deemed deserving to put his hands on what Tate considered his property. And now he had used helper in the plural. Helpers. Meaning more than one!
“Uh, Tate, I know I just apologized for questioning or trusting you, but can you tell me a little more about this trip to The House? You mentioned helpers, meaning more than one, and you specifically singled out James as the one who’d flog and mark my skin until it’s rosy and evenly marked so that when you take me you see those marks and while you didn’t administer them yourself, they were still put there by your command. I see the satisfaction that brings you.”
Tate nodded.
“But adding more than this guy James? What exactly are you planning for me—us—that night, or is all that top secret and I find out when I get there?”
“If you’re afraid or unsure then we don’t go. Period. There is no way in hell I’d ever force something on you that you were not completely on board with, and with me, seeing me, knowing in your heart that I am the only true Dominant for you, I think you’ll be more than satisfied with the plans for the evening.”
“You’re such a tease,” she groaned. “I want to know more! I’m dying to know all the dirty details.”
He chuckled but evidently decided to give her more information. Or perhaps it would only end up being a tease fest where he whipped her up into an even more frantic state of anticipation.
The one word that had never escaped her lips, much less her mind, was fear. She was never afraid when Tate was there, even if a few feet away. He may have a desk job but the man was completely serious when it came to his workouts. She teased him all the time about being the most gorgeous, well-dressed fashion plate to go to the office and talk to clients on the phone all day.
Oh there was more to it. She was making light of his job. She knew he had many important dinners, lunches, after-work drinks, calls at all hours of the night. And in the beginning she hadn’t minded. Each accomplishment made her prouder and prouder. But somehow along the way his job—his struggle after his partner bailed—had faltered at first and so Tate had thrown all of his time and energy into making it a solid success. Endless and countless lunches, dinners, golfing. Meetings for drinks. It had become all-consuming.
“I will lead you into the common room by your collar.”
Her hand automatically went to her throat where the delicate jeweled collar rested.
“I’m having another specially made just for that night, and it will be ready this week. I’ll pick it up when I also go pick up what you’ll be wearing to the event. And those killer fuck-me shoes. Those are at the top of the list.
“But every man in The House that night will know you belong to me. The leash is also being fashioned, yet another thing to do on my shopping trip. Well, and there’s the lingerie I had to get my girl because just imagining you with that outfit the damn mannequin was wearing gave me a hard-on that lasted thirty fucking minutes!”
Chessy could hold back her laughter no longer. She shook against him, her giggles muffled by his shirt.
But Tate was still being serious. “I have the perfect earrings and necklace. It is my intention to drape you in jewels and nothing else. Every eye in the common room will be on you. You’ll wear your hair down. I love your curls. And you may as well just forgo makeup because I guarantee, before the night is over, there will be none left.”
He said the last with a smirk that told her he’d be getting as much pleasure from their role-playing as she would.
One of his favorite scenarios was to have another man fuck her ass while Tate fucked her mouth. And yeah, that would definitely ruin a makeup job, and if such hedonistic pleasure awaited her she was more than happy to forgo being fully made up for the evening.
Her thoughts turned dreamy again. So far she’d remembered all the pleasure Tate had received as if she were a plaything, brought out for boys’ enjoyment and then put away with no regard for her whatsoever. And it certainly wasn’t true.
Tate, even though he was a forceful Dom, was also exceedingly gentle and tender, often interpreting her body signals before she even knew what her body was telling her. He always seemed to know exactly what she wanted more of. Or less of. Or what made her wild with want and need. He was so in tune with her body. Hell, he was in tune with her damn thoughts most of the time. But then her friends had always told her she was as transparent as glass.
When she was happy she shone. Brought light and warmth into any room. But when she was unhappy? It was equally evident. All the light that surrounded her on a seemingly endless basis just burned out. Deep shadows had formed underneath her eyes and she was already getting lines across her brow from worrying and stressing.
“I don’t need to know any more,” she said warmly. “I do trust you, Tate. My curiosity always gets the better of me. You know that. I’m more than happy to wait. I don’t want to ruin the surprise for you since it’s obvious you’ve spent most of the day today preparing for this outing.”
“And how do you feel about going, Chess? Be straight with me. Does it make you scared or nervous?”
She immediately shook her head. “As long as you’re there with me the entire time. That the commands come from you. As long as I know you’re in complete control, then yes, absolutely. I want to go. I’m not scared or nervous. Not when I have you.”
“God I love you,” he breathed into her mouth. “And I promise that our night at The House will be a night you’ll never forget.”