Allison

 

“Didn’t you hear me? I said get out. There won’t be any tattoo. No marks, no nothing. We’re done.”

 

His words played on a loop in my head, tearing into me over and over again until my heart felt battered and raw. I was shoving my things into my bag angrily, taking out my frustration and hurt on inanimate objects because I didn’t know what to do with the feelings inside. I’d never felt like this before.

 

Unfortunately, I really hadn’t used any of my stuff this weekend. Not my toiletries, which were still packed up in my little bag. He’d provided all of my showering needs, regardless of which bathroom I’d used, and it was pretty obvious they were of higher quality than what I’d brought. I hadn’t taken out any of the clothing I’d packed, because I hadn’t worn any. Even now, I stood in the room completely naked.

 

I was cleaned up, but my body still ached from the pleasure he’d brought out in me.

 

My body was alight with desire and need. His promises of playing with me had me amped up for hours and it was a relief to finally be in here again. This playroom. Full of toys that terrified and aroused me at the same time.

 

His taste lingered on my tongue. I’d never done that for a man before and was surprised to find that I liked it. The way he tasted salty. The way he was both hard and incredibly soft. The way the veins felt against my tongue.

 

I sat on the black silken sheets, my butt on my knees. I’d been waiting for him, but he was blessedly here. Finally. And touching me. Twisting and pinching at my erect nipples, sending little shocks of pleasure through me. Just playing with my breasts, because they were as much his as they were mine.

 

“Spread your legs wider,” he commanded, his voice thick and rough with lust.

 

He was handsome. His chest was cut, muscles outlined everywhere, hard rocks covered in soft, tanned skin. Skin that was inked with tattoos.

 

His voice sent ripples of need through me. A need for his touch – and a need to obey.

 

I spread my knees wider, deliberately exposing my body to him. I was wet, my center slick with my own need. Jules reached for something he’d left off to the side and I waited in torturous anticipation. I felt like I’d been waiting forever already and these next few moments seemed like an eternity.

 

Finally, his hand returned to me. I couldn’t see what he was holding, but when his finger pressed a small, cool bead against my little bundle of nerves, I remembered what it was. I moaned, because the last time he’d used this, I’d come repeatedly.

 

I was already so sensitive and his finger was there, too, sliding over my nub and making me jump. It felt wonderful, but I wanted more. The little bead wasn’t vibrating, which was frustrating, but I quickly forgot about it as his finger slid down between my lips to find my hot, wet center.

 

I was sore, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love it when he slid his finger into my opening.

 

The experience was still so vivid in my mind. Vivid enough that just thinking about it was making my body flush with desire. God, it had been wonderful. Pleasure unlike I’d ever known. I had remembered thinking that if sex was always like this, I’d waited too long to have it. But now I was realizing the truth.

 

Sex wasn’t always like that. Sex with Jules was always like that. And now I was missing that part of the equation.

 

“He doesn’t want me,” I said aloud, my voice cracking slightly on the words.

 

I couldn’t believe it. I’d worked so hard to do exactly what he’d asked of me, even when I’d been unsure of it or it had been a little uncomfortable. I’d sat at his feet while he ate and let him truss me up in a leather sling, pinning my arms uselessly behind my back as he did naughty things to my exposed body. I’d given him my virginity and called him sir and—

 

“I let him put beads in my ass!”

 

And the worst part about all of it was… I wasn’t even upset about it. Yes, he’d ordered me to do all of those things, but deep down, I’d wanted to do them, too. It was a strange mixture of needing to please him and needing to please myself. Making him happy, doing things that he approved of, had given me a high unlike anything else. I’d never received any sort of praise from my boss at work. He wasn’t an asshole, but he didn’t really give out ‘good job’s, because he felt like then he’d have to give you a bonus or a raise to go with it.

 

Which he definitely wasn’t going to do.

 

I hadn’t gotten a lot of praise in school, though I didn’t get in trouble much. And mom and dad had been so busy raising Bree that they hadn’t had much time for me. Then they died and suddenly I was raising Bree.

 

There was just no time for me.

 

But Jules had made time for me. He’d made me feel special and good. Yes, some of it had been… odd, but I’d never felt like he’d been doing any of it just to make me feel demeaned or worthless. In fact, I usually felt as though everything I did was about me, not him.

 

It was such a different experience. And now that he was sending me away, I realized just how much I honestly and truly wanted it.

 

I ended up unpacking a little bit in the end, rather than packing, because I needed clothes to wear. I chose the nightshirt I’d brought, because I wanted something comfortable and soft. Then I pulled on a pair of underwear and jeans over that. I looked so… normal. It was strange to see myself in clothes all of a sudden again, which was kind of ridiculous, because I’d only spent about twenty-four hours without. It wasn’t like this was my whole life and now I was expected to wear clothing for the first time.

 

Not bothering to grab the clothes that were still neatly folded on the sink in the bathroom, I took my bag out into the hall. I was about to head down the stairs, thinking of how I’d spent the last day following Jules around like this little lost puppy… and enjoyed it.

 

I couldn’t deny how quickly I had changed to suit this new world. I’d adapted easily to Jules’s demands and found this lifestyle appealing in ways that my old life just hadn’t been.

 

“And now I have to give it up.”

 

Except that I wasn’t ready to do that yet. I felt emotion bubble up within me and recognized it immediately. Determination. I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

 

Tossing my bag onto the second step down the stairs, I turned and headed back toward Jules’s room. I threw the door open, ready to unload on him, but came up short. The room was empty.

 

“Damnit.”

 

I hurried out and searched the rest of the floor, but didn’t find anything. I would have noticed if he’d gone downstairs, because my room – the guest room – was right in front of them and I hadn’t closed the door. I was wondering where the hell he was, when I pushed open one of the doors to reveal a porch that opened up to a fire escape. It went down to the ground outside, but it also went up.

 

To the roof?

 

Deciding I didn’t have anything to lose, I climbed out onto the escape barefoot and headed up. I reached the top quickly and climbed over the edge and onto the room. There I found several old lounge chairs and a couch, things that looked like they had been picked up at a yard sale for about five bucks. And past all of that, leaning against the ledge of the roof, was Jules.

 

His back was to me so he hadn’t seen me yet, and I took a moment to just appreciate him. He was tall and muscular. His hair was a blonde that caught the light and shined like gold, kept long enough to style, but short enough to be out of his way. I couldn’t see his bright blue eyes, but I remembered them so intensely I didn’t think I’d ever forget.

 

He’d found a pair of pants, leather and low slung, accenting his trim waist and his muscular butt at the same time. The muscles of his back were developed, his shoulders broad. He looked like one of those male models on the romance novel covers, the bodice rippers.

 

Every woman’s wet dream.

 

And more importantly, he was my wet dream now. How was I supposed to just walk away from that?

 

I can’t. I just need to make him understand that.

 

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly in an attempt to be calm. I needed to be smart and coherent, not needy and blubbering if I was going to convince him to let me stay. I walked toward him with determination.

 

He hadn’t turned around yet, but when I was about halfway to him, his voice stopped me. “You need to leave. I told you I’d transfer the rest of your money.”

 

His words shouldn’t have stung, but they did. It was the way he said them. No inflection, no concern. Just coldness. Like this really was all just a business transaction and I was this prostitute that he’d played with only to discard a moment later.

 

My chest ached with the thought that he might actually feel that way, but I shoved it aside. No. These couple of days with him had meant more than that and he’d felt it, too. I knew it deep down inside.

 

“I don’t care about the money,” I told him.

 

He laughed, cold and mirthless. “Of course you do. That’s why you’re here in the first place. Not caring about the money would mean you don’t care about your sister, and I know that’s not true.”

 

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Okay, you’re right. I do care about the money. I need it. But even if you didn’t have it… I’d still want to be here.”

 

I saw his shoulders and neck shift, like he was going to finally turn and look at me, but he didn’t. He just leaned against the edge of the building, tense and stiff. “That really doesn’t matter ultimately. Because I don’t want you here. All of this has been a disappointment.”

 

His words stung as though he’d physically slapped me. Since arriving here, he’d done some questionable things. He’d taken me so far outside my comfort zone, I wasn’t even sure where it was anymore. He’d shown me things that I shouldn’t have liked, but did. But he’d never, ever been cruel. Not even when punishing me. Not when making me wait, or sit at his feet, or anything.

 

This was cruel.

 

“You don’t mean that,” I told him.

 

He grunted in response.

 

Gritting my teeth, I tried again. “I don’t know where all of this is suddenly coming from,” I murmured softly, my hands clutching at my chest, gripping the shirt tightly. “You know what I think?”

 

He let out a sigh. “I have a feeling I’m about to find out whether I would like to or not.”

 

Ignoring his quip, I pressed forward. “I think you’re scared. Scared that maybe you really like me being here. And I understand that.” I took a step forward, but he still didn’t bother turning to look at me. “I’m scared, too. All of this is so new. But I know that I want this. I want you. And I’m willing to take a risk on it. If you’re not willing to do the same, you’re just going to end up being alone the rest of your life.”

 

I waited with baited breath, hoping that somehow he might accept me. That he would push past whatever was holding him back and embrace me like I wanted him to. In such a short time, I’d grown to want him, to need him. If he didn’t reciprocate… I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

 

He finally glanced over his shoulder. It wasn’t really a look, because his gaze was still lost somewhere over the rooftops, far away from me, but it was something. It gave me hope.

 

Then his words tore that hope apart.

 

“Just go. Get out of my life. I don’t need some experimental, doesn’t know what she wants sub, telling me what to do.”

 

My shoulders slumped. For half a second, I thought of trying again. Of going to him and telling him that what we had was real, that I wasn’t just some hopeless twenty-something experimenting with her sexuality. But then I finally just had to accept the truth.

 

No matter what I wanted from him, he didn’t want the same. That connection that I’d been so sure went both ways… just wasn’t there. And it had been foolish of me to think otherwise.

 

With a heavy heart, I turned away from him. I could feel my heart ache and throb to do so, but there was nothing left for me here. I left him there on the roof and went downstairs, grabbing my stuff from the steps as I went. I went straight to my car and threw my bag in, starting it up and pulling out of the garage.

 

It wasn’t until I’d pulled out of his driveway and onto the main road, heading home, that the tears finally came. They were harsh, ugly sobs that filled the car with misery. My vision blurred as the tears poured down my cheeks, and I struggled to drive safely on the road. Finally, I just had to pull over and let it all out.

 

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed like that, crying against the steering wheel, but when there was no more, I sat back. I took several steadying breaths, then reached for my bag. I grabbed the first shirt I found and used it to wipe off my face. Checking myself in the mirror, I saw that my eyes were red and swollen and my skin was splotchy.

 

Real attractive.

 

Not that it matters, I thought numbly. There’s no one to impress.

 

That was almost enough to set me off all over again, but I held back. I sucked in a large breath and held it, forcing myself to be calm. I couldn’t spend all my life crying. In fact, I couldn’t even spend a day doing that. I had to be strong, because there was someone waiting for me to take care of her.

 

It was a shame that there still wasn’t anyone to take care of me.

 

Pushing those thoughts aside, I dug around in my bag for my cell phone. I hadn’t used it since leaving that Friday, and it was strange how much I hadn’t even missed it. Checking it, I saw that I had a couple of missed calls. One was from Christel and was accompanied by a text message. The message only asked if I was going through with it. I ignored both of those. I’d deal with Christel when I saw her at work. I’d call and see if I could get my shift back tomorrow, maybe even pick up some hours tonight, in the hopes of covering the back rent that I owed. I’d already lost money this weekend, which was going to hurt come payday. But at least I’d have enough to cover the operation. Just as soon as Jules transferred the rest of the money.

 

I winced at the thought of him. It was going to be hard to go back to living without him, even though I’d only spent half a weekend with him. He’d changed my life in so many ways and now I was left without him, stuck with memories that would haunt me of a life and a lover that I’d never have again.

 

Feeling the emotion well up inside me again, I shoved it aside forcefully.

 

The other message on my phone was from the hospital. My stomach twisted into knots as worry consumed me. Was it about Bree? Had she gotten worse? Had she—?

 

I couldn’t even let myself think about that last possibility. I told myself that she was fine. She was fine and now she’d get her operation and finally she could come home. She’d be okay.

 

I quickly dialed the number for the hospital to return the call and figure out what was going on.

 

The phone rang only twice, then was picked up by the nurse at the front desk. I gave her my name and asked for Dr. David Miller, who was my sister’s main doctor. We’d been dealing with each other for a long time now, so I knew he’d take my call if he could.

 

I was transferred to his extension. It rang twice more, then I heard his voice on the other end. “Hello? Ms. Gilson?”

 

“Yes, doctor. I’m so sorry I missed a call – is my sister alright?”

 

There was a pause, then, “Yes, she’s alright. Her condition is deteriorating, though, which I don’t need to explain to you. You’ve been with Bree every step of the way.” Dr. Miller had a kind voice which often softened when he was talking to me or Bree. He was an understanding, gentle man where many doctors had lost their compassion for their patients.

 

“How bad is she?” I asked, reading between the lines to catch the important things.

 

He sighed. “She needs that operation, Allison. She’s stable right now, but I don’t know how much longer. I know the money’s—”

 

“I have the money,” I blurted. A second later I realized how that sounded and felt my face flush. I had the money, because I’d prostituted myself. It hadn’t made me feel truly guilty until this moment right now. I knew the guilt was there because it really had been just a job, a business transaction. If Jules had returned my feelings… Well, maybe I’d feel differently about it.

 

But I don’t.

 

I waited for the inevitable question: How did I get the money? Dr. Miller knew my financial situation, because we’d been trying to work around it for a while now. He desperately wanted to get Bree that heart, but his hands were tied. He’d done everything he could, found every source of additional revenue, every funding program out there that Bree and I qualified for and applied it. But it barely made a dent. In the end, for a procedure like this, he couldn’t authorize it without the money ready and available, no matter his personal opinion on the matter.

 

Instead of that dreadful question, all I heard was utter relief. “Thank god. Bree’s lucky to have a sister like you.”

 

I felt tears prick at my eyes once more, but I kept my cool while on the phone. “I’m lucky to have her,” I murmured. I didn’t add that I was now sure she was the only thing I had left.

 

“I’ll schedule the operation immediately,” he informed me.

 

Relief flooded my system. Thank god. “Thank you, Dr. Miller. For everything that—”

 

“Don’t thank me yet. Let’s wait to see your sister on the other side of the operation.”

 

I thanked him again anyway, because he deserved it. If it hadn’t been for him. There would be another thirty days of pre-op and we wouldn’t be able to go through with the operation for at least that long. But he’d been pushing the pre-op stuff, arguing that Bree was already in the hospital, at the top of the list, and there was an available heart. He said that he felt full confidence that I’d come up with the money.

 

At the time, it had seemed incredibly foolish of him. Now, I just wanted to hug him and give the rest of those bastards the finger.

 

We hung up then and I sped the rest of the way home. Once there, I would drop off my stuff, clean up my face, and head over to the hospital to see Bree. Probably, the doctors would have already given her the news, but I wanted to be there to celebrate with her. We weren’t out of the woods, and wouldn’t be until she was through surgery and post-op, but suddenly her future looked a lot brighter than it had just a couple of days ago.

 

I told myself that was enough. That Bree was all that really mattered. Even though I’d lost Jules… I still had a reason for being. So what if I would never find another lover like him again? At least my sister would live.

 

It was difficult to fight my breaking heart, but I tried to convince myself that it was better this way.

 

What would I tell Bree if I started a relationship like that with Jules? How would I explain to her that my entire lifestyle was changing and it would be mostly dictated by Jules – and myself in a roundabout way?

 

“She’d never understand,” I muttered to myself. “It’s better this way.”

 

My heart remained unconvinced, but at least the lie gave me enough resolve to keep going.