Part Two
Chapter 6
Katana
Sitting down at my computer to get to work on a new book cover, I still wore the gorgeous dress Nix bought me. We’d parted ways only a couple of hours before, and his goodbye kiss still tingled on my lips.
I stared blankly at the computer screen. My mind couldn’t focus on anything other than the events of last night. When my cell rang, I jumped and looked at it, hoping it might be him.
But it couldn’t be him. He didn’t have my number. I had his, though I’d never call it. It wasn’t a sub’s place to call her Master, even if their pact was only for one night.
Blyss’s name lit up my phone, and I answered the call. “Hi, Blyss. How’s it going?”
“You sound way too calm, Katana. Didn’t you go to the club last night?” she asked.
“I did, and I left it only a short time after I arrived, as the most handsome Dom picked me before I had a chance to see much of the club you’ve told me so much about.” I got up and walked to the window to look outside as I conjured up the memory of the first time I’d laid eyes on Nix.
Blyss’s voice pulled me out of my reverie before I could really start daydreaming about the man. “So you weren’t in the club when all the chaos ensued then?”
Oh, that! “No. No, he and I left very early, thank God. Someone from the club called him and told him about it. Seems we dodged a bullet there.”
“That you did.” She seemed to be a lot calmer than before. “Okay, so this Dom, tell me all about him and what you guys did.”
I leaned my shoulder against the window pane and sighed. “He was the best lover I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve had that many. Okay, I’ve had two, and it’s been over a year since I’ve had sex of any kind.”
“You haven’t even masturbated?” she interrupted me.
“That’s personal!” I laughed. “But no, not even that. Maybe it seemed so intense and hugely satisfying because of that, I don’t know. But it was electric, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Is it possible to have a sex hangover, Blyss?”
She laughed. “I’ve had more than one of those. But then when you have a man as intense as mine, you get a thorough fucking at least once a month, with major fucks most days.”
“So that’s what it would be like if I had a long-term thing with a Dom?” I asked as the idea did things to my insides that made me quiver.
“Does last night have you thinking about finding yourself a full-time Dom, Katana?” she asked with a hint of humor in her voice.
“Well, not just any Dom would do. But my guy wasn’t into anything that lasts longer than one night. He doesn’t even live in this city.” I moved away from the window and went to sit back down.
“So was he able to get all that pent-up stress out of you? I know you had one hell of a crazy schedule last week—you were going insane.” She laughed again. “I hope he got that off your back.”
All the stress had melted away, and it had to be because of him. “Oh, yeah, he got rid of all that. Much better than the masseuse my friend recommended.”
She giggled knowingly. “I bet.”
Running my hand through my hair, I released the scent of the hotel shampoo and an image of Nixon flashed in my head. I had to think about something else. “So, how’s the hubby, Blyss? Is Troy doing okay?”
“He’s doing well. We’re about to take the kids out to window shop for Christmas presents,” she told me. “We do that every year so they can let us know all the things they want, and then we surprise them with a few of them on Christmas. It’s a fun tradition we’ve had for a few years.”
“Christmas already?” I had to ask. “It’s barely the day after Halloween.”
“Yeah, I know. This is the traditional day that we do this thing. That way we have lots of time to make sure we get them what they really want. I always have my Christmas shopping done before Thanksgiving. Because the day after Thanksgiving we set up the Christmas tree and I have presents ready to go right away. We’re big on the holidays in this family.”
“I’m glad you’ve found yourself a big family to live and love with. You deserve it all, Blyss,” I gushed. She’d been the best person I’d ever met while in the foster care system.
“Aw, thanks, Katana. You know you deserve happiness too.” She paused, and I could tell her wheels were spinning. “I worry about you sometimes. You stay alone too much, holed up in your little apartment in Portland, making those book covers. I know you’re making good money and all, but it takes away from your social life. You really need to get out more. Make a habit of it. Stop working at five or six, get yourself dolled up and go out instead of working all night.”
“I don’t know.” The thought of going out and maybe ending up in bed with another guy just hit me the wrong way all of a sudden. I knew I didn’t belong to Nixon, but there was something that told me I’d be disappointed if I went to bed with another man. Plus, I couldn’t think about anyone else at that moment, still overwhelmed by our amazing night together. “I’m not into clubbing. The only reason I registered with The Dungeon of Decorum is because of the safety net it provided me. No abuse is tolerated, and I had a number to call if that occurred.”
“Yeah, I know that bastard did a number on you back then. Do you know if he’s still in jail or not?” she asked with concern etching her voice.
I didn’t know a thing about the man who’d left permanent scars on my body, brain, and heart. “I don’t know anything about him. It’s been four years since I left Flagstaff. As far as I know, he doesn’t have a clue where I moved. Lyle Strickland is a man I try hard not to think about.” I paused for a moment, reflecting on the relationship I’d had two years after I left Lyle, after I’d moved to Portland. “I know he’s the main reason it didn’t work out with Jimmy, too. I just never trusted him the entire six months we were together.”
“I know how hard it is to find that trust again. I’ve had my fair share of torture in the past. Not that I want to get into any of that. That’s all better off left alone. Well, I better get going. I can hear the kids putting up a fuss already. Love you, Katana.”
“I love you too, Blyss. I’ll call you again soon. Have fun. Bye.” I ended the call and leaned my head back, thinking about my past.
When Lyle had come onto me just after I turned nineteen, I’d thought I had hit the jackpot. He was older, twenty-five, and so dominant. I suppose I liked that sort of thing because I’d never had anyone care that much about me. I took it as a sign that he really loved me.
Turned out, he really loved controlling my every move, and then he really loved beating the shit out of me. My bruises and broken bones healed, but my heart and soul were left in rough shape.
Even if Nixon Slaughter were knocking down my door trying to date me, I wasn’t in any shape to be the woman for him. Still having my moments of being an emotional wreck at times proved I wasn’t ready to be anyone’s girl.
Poor Jimmy had got the shit end of the stick when he got with me. As a couple of years had passed since the horror show with Lyle, I’d thought I was over everything. Jimmy was anything but dominating. Poor guy was a pushover. I suppose that’s why things ended so fast between us. I pushed him to lord over me, but that wasn’t for him. He couldn’t do it.
I knew I’d had a rough life. I knew I had mental issues with that. Was it so wrong of me to need a man who would take control and treat me like I was his?
It didn’t seem that modern women wanted what I wanted. Not most of them anyway. I wanted that firm hand. I wanted that rough touch. Craved it. And I thought I’d found that with Lyle. But what I found instead was that you couldn’t trust every dominant man.
And I couldn’t be happy with a man who wasn’t at least somewhat dominating, either.
I felt stuck in a terribly deep rut. The thing I wanted the most was the thing that had hurt me so much in the past and made me wary of relationships. And I had no idea what I’d ever do to remedy that. Being alone wasn’t the answer either.
Getting up, I went back to my desk and tapped on the computer to bring up pictures of hot, muscular men so I could pick one for the next book cover I’d be making.
One by one, I blew them all off as none compared to Nixon. His tight abs, his broad chest with massive pecs, his hulking biceps—no one compared to him.
How in the hell would I ever get him out of my mind?
Would time eventually rid me of that perfect memory? Would I even want it to?
It had one perfect night. The best night of my entire life. Why would I want to forget about it?
Maybe because it already haunted me. Maybe because I already knew no other man could come close to comparing to Nixon Slaughter.
I was doomed.