Chapter Twelve
Everything he and Cassia had shared on Tuesday night had been so amazing that Quinton had barely been able to sit still on Thursday in anticipation of seeing her again. Which was maybe why he found himself at a jewelry store. Just browsing.
At least, that’s what he was telling himself.
Except, he was clearly browsing for something in particular, because the case in front of him was filled with rather stunning diamond choker necklaces. He knew he wanted diamonds. The hardest of the gemstones. Absolute gorgeous brilliance created under pressure.
Just like Cassia.
“May I help you?” the woman behind the counter asked.
And just like that, he knew the answer. He was doing this. Because it felt right. Because she felt like the everything he’d been looking for but never truly believed he would ever find.
He considered more than a few pieces, felt their weight in his hands, and imagined each and every one around Cass’s neck. Until he found the perfect one.
Now it just remained to decide when to give it to her.
Quinton chuckled at himself as he had to resist the urge to drive to her right this fucking second and place the collar around her neck. Damn, he had it bad.
And he was absofuckinglutely okay with that. More than, in fact.
Quinton couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that it’d happened, but he knew he cared for Cass as more than just his submissive—though that meant a fucking lot all by itself. Maybe it had been on the dance floor the night of their first scenes. Or maybe it was the way she’d followed him, so trusting despite her vulnerability, around the back of that building off the side of the highway. Or maybe it was the way she’d surrendered to his every dirty whim the other night. Or, perhaps, it was any one of a million times she’d faced her fears and beat—or weathered—them, finding solace and comfort in his arms again and again.
This necklace was him wanting to show her all of that. And letting her know that he wasn’t just thinking about the next scene or the next week or the next month that they’d be together. He was thinking about them forever and for everything.
So it felt a little like fate when, twenty minutes after he left the jewelry store, his cell rang showing Cass’s name on the caller ID. He grinned, hoping she was as excited as he was about tonight.
“Cassia. To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked by way of answering, a big stupid grin on his face.
“Hi,” she said, her voice sounding all wrong. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, freezing as he got out of his car in the lot at Blasphemy.
“My body has been possessed by a vomit monster. Either that, or I’m sick,” she said.
“Damn, I’m sorry. Are you home?” A gut-deep need rose up to take care of her in every way she needed. And that told him a lot, too, about where he was with her.
“Yeah. I got home from work a few hours ago. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I won’t be able to make it tonight.” Her voice was scratchy and croaky.
“Baby,” he said. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I hate to disappoint you,” she said.
Because I hate to disappoint you, Master.
She hadn’t used the D/s title, but he’d heard it in her tone. Loud and clear. And even though her voice was a train wreck, the sentiment reached inside his chest and tugged at things. Tugged at them hard.
Christ, he was in love with this woman.
Christ. He was in love with this woman.
“Baby,” he said, gentler this time. “You never could. Now, hang tight, I’ll be right there.”
Twenty minutes later, Quinton was knocking on her door. He hated that she’d have to get up to let his ass in. At some point he’d need a key. Because his brain was apparently unable to stop thinking of ways to make this thing he’d found with Cassia permanent.
The door eased open, and it was quite possible that the wood was all that held her upright. She was sheet white, had dark circles under bloodshot eyes, and stood hunched over.
“Hi,” she said, hanging back from him. “Really glad you’re here, but don’t wanna get you sick.”
“Don’t care about that,” he said, taking her in his arms and pushing the door shut. She was warm to the touch. “Damn, Cass, you’re hot.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. “I know, right? So hot.”
He chuckled. How many times had she made him laugh these past weeks? Her sense of humor was just one of the many things he loved about her. “Come on, funny girl. Let’s get you back in bed.”
“Oh,” she said, ducking her chin. “I, uh, have been laying out here. I kinda got sick in the bedroom earlier and trying to clean it up…” She shook her head. “I’ll deal with it later.”
“Okay. No worries.” Damn, he was really glad he’d come. Quinton led her to the couch, and she immediately curled into a pile of pillows up against the corner. Crouching, he covered her with a blanket. “What can I get you?”
Her eyelids were already heavy. “Just you,” she whispered.
“You got me, baby.” Understatement of the century. “Sleep now.”
He knelt there until her eyes closed, and then he went foraging. He grabbed a bottle of water and found the Tylenol in a cabinet, along with a little stockpile of chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d be able to stomach that later. He placed the water and meds on the coffee table for when she woke up.
Then he checked on her bedroom. The sour smell hit him before he walked into the room, and no way was he leaving it like this. Quinton opened a window, letting the cool fall air stream in, and then he made quick work of removing the dirty sheets and emptying the trash can she’d made it to. The tour she’d given him his first time here meant he knew that she had a little laundry set-up in a hall closet. As quietly as he could, he dropped the sheets into the washer and got that going. Finally, he found clean bedding in a linen closet and got a couple wet rags from the bathroom to clean the carpet.
There wasn’t a thing glamorous about any of it. But life and love were fucking messy sometimes, and the beauty of it all was in making someone else’s life better with kindness and care. On the face of BDSM, it was the submissive who was the one in service. But the reality was that service was at the heart of who and what a Dominant was, too. Like most Doms, Quinton was hard-wired with the need to take care of those he cared about, and certainly, of the one he loved. In every way she needed. In any way she needed.
To take care of Cassia.
It was why he’d wanted to help her with the phobia that was the result of her accident. It was why he’d so often denied his own arousal when it was clear she’d gone as far as she could in a scene. It was why he loved eating pussy and got off on giving orgasm after orgasm. And it was why he’d made her bed and gotten on his hands and knees to scrub puke out of a carpet.
Footsteps pounded down the hall, and then the retching started.
Quinton was at Cass’s side in a moment. He held her hair back as her whole body convulsed over the toilet with every heave. Fuck, he hated that he couldn’t do more.
Finally, it passed. She flushed the toilet and attempted to stand.
“Come here, baby,” he said, helping her up and to the sink. “Get some water. But maybe not too much.”
Nodding, she rinsed her mouth with a few handfuls, and then she just sagged against the counter. “Thank you,” she said, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “I know this sucks, but will you stay with me?”
He smirked. “Try to make me leave.”
That eked a small smile out of her.
Quinton stayed the rest of the day. She slept on and off, and finally the vomiting stopped long enough that she attempted a cup of tea. When that stayed down, she tried a little of the broth from the chicken noodle soup. They watched Ferris Bueller’s Day Off because that seemed totally appropriate to the situation and it made her laugh. And then he stayed the night, too, holding her as her fever broke and she moaned and shifted in her sleep.
And even though he regretted how bad she felt and wished he could weather it for her, he felt a kind of peace in his chest at getting to be with someone this way. At getting to be with Cassia this way.
Through the good and the bad. Because that was love.
* * *
Cassia might’ve thought she’d died if it wasn’t for the hot expanse of man sprawled naked beside her on the bed, the early morning light casting shadows across his body that highlighted all his hard ridges and angles. His cock stirred despite the fact that he remained asleep. She wasn’t remotely in any shape to do anything about that, but it sure was nice to look.
Maybe this was heaven?
Actually, there was no maybe about it.
Quinton had spent his whole day with her. He’d fed her, held her hair while she threw up, cleaned up her puke, and did her laundry. If that wasn’t heaven, she didn’t know what was.
What she did know?
She loved him. She was in love with him.
But was it too soon to tell him?
It hadn’t even been a week since they’d agreed to be exclusive, and here she was imagining forever.
Pulling herself out of bed, she stumbled to the bathroom. At least the nausea was gone. Except now she was the human equivalent of a wet noodle. And that was being generous.
Back in the bedroom, she found Quinton in a stretch that highlighted every gorgeous muscle. All the way hard now, his cock bobbed against his stomach.
“Damn, I wish I was up to doing you right now,” she said.
His belly laugh made her smile. “You can do me any time, baby.”
He held out an arm, and she crawled in against him. Cassia loved the way his arm curled around her shoulders, pulling her in tighter. “Thank you for yesterday.”
“Not a thing,” he said. “How are you doing?”
“Better. I’m just kinda trashed from it.”
He nodded. “You’re not going in to work, I hope?”
“I don’t think I could make it out the front door,” she said. Disappointment stirred in her belly. “Which means I probably won’t be up to visiting you at Blasphemy tonight.”
Quinton made a sound low in his throat. “I’m thinking about finding someone to cover me.”
She shifted to brace her chin on his pecs. “You don’t have to do that, Quinton. I’m a lot better. And the way I feel, I think I’m just gonna sleep.”
“You sure? I want to take care of you.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, his gaze so full of affection and concern.
And damn if his words didn’t reach right into her heart. “I appreciate that so much. If I need you, I promise I’ll ask.”
Quinton heaved a breath like he wasn’t entirely convinced. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, but I have a request.”
“Sure.” After everything he’d done for her, what wouldn’t she give him?
“Would you consider giving me a key to your apartment, Cassia?”
A warm pressure bloomed inside her. “Consider it done.”
“You sure? I know it might seem a little fast, but if you need something, I want to be able to get to you.”
“Completely sure,” she said. It might seem a little fast… If he thought it was fast to be swapping keys, it was definitely too fast for her to be telling him she loved him… “I have extras in the kitchen drawer.”
“Okay, good. And this weekend, if you’re feeling up to it, I want you to come to my place.” He shrugged with one big shoulder. “I can’t wait too much longer to get you in my bed, baby.”
Happiness tingled over her skin. “I really hate that I’m sick right now.”
He chuckled. “What can I do for you before I have to head to the club today?”
Aw, how freaking sweet was he? “Just being here is everything.”
Quinton tilted his head, those brown eyes absolutely blazing. “Everything, huh?”
She nodded, and they spent the next three hours lazing in bed. Talking, touching, laughing. They ate soup and crackers together at her little kitchen table, and Quinton once again promised to cook for her when she was better.
Cassia hated to see him go. But she was also exhausted. In between dozing off, she answered the messages he sent checking in on her. And, just as she’d expected, when evening rolled around, she was in absolutely no shape to try to go out. So she sent him maybe her twentieth text of the day and said good night.
Lying in bed, Cass stared at the little lamp on her nightstand, its golden glow casting a low light over the corner of the room. Ridiculously, she felt almost like David facing off with Goliath as she debated, then finally resolved to try. She turned it off.
Darkness fell over the room.
Her heartrate picked up. Anxiety prickled across her skin.
Cass forced her eyes closed.
What do you see, little one?
Quinton, laughing like an idiot at Ferris Bueller. Quinton, his expression shattered as he came. Quinton, peering up her body, his mouth hovering over her core, his lips wet with her arousal. Quinton, taking care in a million different ways.
For the first time in two years, she fell asleep alone. In the dark. And was okay.