The last two days had been torture. Mason had tried to keep his mind on his work, but instead it had been split between two women, Abby and NewGRL549.

He hadn’t seen Abby since he’d cooked her dinner, but he had heard her moving about next door, so he knew she was okay. Unfortunately, out of sight did not mean out of mind and he kept replaying their evening together and how it had felt to watch her go from the overwrought mess he’d found her in to her usual, alluring self. When he’d seen her on the stairs that night, his overprotective instincts had kicked in and he’d wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms, sit her on his knee and lay her head on his chest as he comforted her. He’d sensed that she’d needed that, although he didn’t know quite how well she would have taken his advances. Instead he’d fed her and plied her with wine until she’d regained her spark and when she’d left after dinner, as much as he’d wanted her to stay, he knew he’d helped her feel better. And wasn’t that an addictive feeling.

To distract himself from thinking about her that night, he’d sent an email to NewGRL549 and had been surprised by her quick response. Surprised, but pleased. If he couldn’t have Abby, then he would enjoy NewGRL549. Now the two women occupied his brain constantly and in his dreams they merged into the same person, which made his morning wood more like morning steel. He couldn’t remember having to take matters into his own hands as frequently as he was since he was a damned teenager, and there was still no relief in sight. He may be meeting NewGRL549 tonight, but that didn’t mean his cock would be seeing any action.

He dressed with more care than usual. Black dress pants, white button down, he’d even gone and gotten a long overdue haircut, just a trim, but still, a haircut. He tidied the stubble on his chin and paced around his apartment trying to ease the nerves. Meeting a new, potential partner was always tricky, especially with his issues. They had already spoken briefly about his aversion to physical touch, but she would probably want to know more and that’s where things got sticky. Nobody knew, except his friends, and he really preferred it that way.

The nervousness that he felt seemed at odds with his need for control, but there was more to being a Dom than just being in control. The responsibility of having someone turn themselves over to his hands was a heavy weight and one that he didn’t dismiss lightly. He’d been on the receiving end of heavy handed dominance when there had been no trust and no care and he refused to be like that. What his experience had taught him was that trust was a fragile thing and once it was broken, it could never be restored without showing the cracks. So he took his responsibilities seriously and that was why he was nervous. There had yet to be trust built between him and his new little sub and there would be hurdles to cross before it could be earned.

He grabbed his keys and left his apartment heading straight for the garage. His car hummed underneath him as he drove to the Hope St address.

Abby paced around the small private room she’d been shown to. It was not dissimilar to the room where she had met with Madam Charlotte except this one was set for dinner.

She was nervous and kept looking at the door wondering whether she should leave before he arrived, but if she did that then she would never know if this was something that was just a passing fancy or something that she was actually interested in.

Abby smoothed the short skirt she wore. It had been another agonising decision, trying to choose what to wear, but she’d settled on an outfit similar to the one her avatar wore - a school girl’s uniform. The skirt barely covered her arse and was the shortest thing she’d ever worn. The white blouse was tight and the buttons strained across her breasts, not leaving much to the imagination. She’d left her hair down and wore thigh high white stockings and Mary Jane pumps. The outfit had cost a small fortune, but she hardly ever bought new clothes, so it was a justifiable cost. When she’d looked at herself in the mirror before she left her apartment, she’d thought she looked good, but now she fretted, what if he didn’t like it?

The wait was excruciating and was messing with her head. All the confidence she’d had slowly melted away with each minute passed seven o’clock. He was late. Had he seen her and then turned around and left? Had he changed his mind? Or was this just part of the Dom mind games, a way to put her on edge, to unsettle her? She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself feeling more self conscious than she had in years. She felt so exposed, and not just because of the skimpy outfit she wore. By agreeing to meet him, by coming here, Abby had made herself vulnerable, had put herself at his mercy and it chafed against the hard lessons she had been taught. Being vulnerable led to being hurt. Being needy led to being abandoned. Wanting more led to being disappointed.

Making a decision, she walked over to the side board where she had left her purse and the long coat she’d worn to cover her outfit in the taxi. She couldn’t do this, she had to leave. She would send him an email explaining what happened, but she couldn’t go through with it, not tonight, maybe not ever. She picked up her purse and then froze as she heard the door behind her open.

Mason took a deep breath before opening the door, pushing all thoughts of Abby out of his head, he concentrated on what tonight would yield. Very possibly the woman on the other side of the door could be someone that he might have more than just a quick affair with. That’s what he needed to concentrate on.

He pushed the door open and stepped across the threshold, closing it softly behind him. The woman, Abigail, stood with her back to him and he took a moment to let his gaze roam over her. She wore a very short naughty school girl outfit and his lips quirked. All her lush curves were on display and he felt his cock harden at the sight. Long, dark hair, fell like a waterfall down her back and he could imagine himself wrapping it around his hands and tugging to bring her head back and exposing the long expanse of her neck.

He allowed himself to admire her but when she didn’t turn around, in fact seemed frozen in place, he spoke.

“Abigail,” he said and he heard her gasp.

She seemed to tremble, her hair shimmering with the vibrations of her body, but she still didn’t turn around. He crossed the room to stand behind her, close behind her, close enough to smell the fragrance of her hair, a fragrance that was familiar and immediately made him think of another dark haired woman. His brain fought the images and he gritted his teeth against the desire that rose up in him simply because of the scent of shampoo.

“Turn around sweetheart,” he murmured.

Slowly she turned to face him and it took all his effort not to step back in shock when he saw her face. He’d known though, hadn’t he. From the minute he’d walked through the door and saw her standing there in that ridiculous outfit, he’d known it was Sweet Abby and yet he had refused to acknowledge it. Now the proof was indisputable as she looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“M-M-Mason?”

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, mesmerised by the sight of her, the longing in his body demanded to be heard as every cell screamed at him that this was the one he wanted, this was the one his body desired.

“Sweet Abby,” he breathed and lowered his head, brushing his lips softly across hers. It wasn’t a kiss, not really, and he had to restrain himself not to take her right there where she stood. He had wanted her for weeks now and knowing that she was the shy little sub that he had been speaking with did all kinds of unexpected things to him, most notably, she brought out his need to care for her.

He felt her hand settle on his shoulder and reality rushed back in. He tensed, fighting the memories and the pull of the past as he reached up and took her wrist in his big hand and removed it from his shoulder. He watched her eyes widen with shock and then uncertainty and then worry as he grasped her other hand and pushed them both behind her back and held them there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes going glassy as she looked up at him. She had witnessed his almost break down when Bailey had touched him unexpectedly and he could sense her guilt for doing the same. Instead of answering her, he kissed her, hard. She yielded under him, her mouth opening, her body softening as he pressed into her.

Her easy submission nearly stripped him of his control. This was meant to be dinner and conversation only, to get to know one another, and he had already broken his own rules. But they were rules he’d made before he’d known that it was Sweet Abby, they were rules he’d made when he was trying to find someone to replace her in his fantasies. Having her here, having it revealed that she had been NewGRL549 all along was like having his fantasies come to life and he struggled to keep himself in check.

Reluctantly he released her lips and looked down at her, tracing the contours of her face with his gaze. Her eyes fluttered open, heavy and dark with arousal, her lips were pink and wet from his kiss and her cheeks were flushed. How was he ever going to resist her when she looked up at him like that? There was already trust there, it was new and fragile, but it was there. They had already begun to build a friendship and he knew they were both attracted to each other and despite their sometimes rather odd interactions. Going slow was going to be hard and would take all of his control, but he had to do it. She was a novice and he needed to be gentle with her or he could ruin the fragile trust that shined in her eyes now as she looked at him.

He smiled at her as he took a step back and released her hands. She wobbled a little as she fought for balance. He raised his hand and ran his knuckles gently over her cheek watching as she fought the need to close her eyes and lean into him. He liked the way she responded to him, he liked the way her body seemed to sway towards him like a magnet.

“Hungry?” he asked and she blinked a couple of times as if coming out of a trance. Her eyes dropped and she blushed and he sensed her trying to fight what was between them.

“Maybe I should go,” she said, looking back up at him warily.

While every part of his body screamed at him to not let her go, he let nothing show on his face except friendliness. He didn’t want her to go, but he didn’t want to force her either.

“If that’s what you want,” he said, keeping his voice light. “I understand that seeing me might come as a shock, I know it was a surprise to see you.” Her eyes rounded and he lifted his hand once again to trail a finger down her cheek, over her jaw and down her neck to where the collar of her shirt covered her skin. “But not a bad surprise,” he murmured.

“You’re not… disappointed it’s me?”

She was looking at the floor, not at him and he felt a pain in his chest that she could ever think he’d be disappointed in her. He cupped her face, raising it to meet his eyes.

“I’m definitely not disappointed it’s you, Sweet Abby.” He kissed her again, on the forehead, on the nose and then on the lips. He felt the tension leak out of her body and smiled. “Now,” he said releasing her face and taking her hand, “Let’s sit down and eat. I promised you food and conversation.” He led her over to the table and pulled her chair out for her, pushing it in as she sat. “Are you hungry?”

She tilted her head back to look at him and smiled so sweetly he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her again. She was addictive and he knew he was already in too deep, but at the moment, with his lips on hers, he couldn’t care less.