Disgrace (30 page)

“But this isn’t a normal relationship,” I whisper.

“Really? And why is that?” I meet his eyes, which are so dark they look like inky black pools, the flecks of gold invisible.

“Because I’m—” His whole frame tenses, and he sits about a foot taller on the bed, intimidating and radiating instant anger.

“If you call yourself a whore just one more time, I’ll tan your arse so hard the neighbours will feel the burn. You’re not a whore, Sam, and from what Leon told me you never were.” He draws in a deep breath, and his body relaxes with the slow escape of air. “But that doesn’t matter. I want
you
.”

“Why? No, wait, I’ll answer that. You want me because you think you know me.” I keep my voice quiet, but I can feel my frustration and temper rise together. “You see me at work and think that’s who I am. I know you’ve seen more than that, I do. But ultimately you are attracted to the no-holds barred, sexually adventurous Selina part of me. I think we can both confidently say the crazy jealous part of Sam outweighs my alter ego by some considerable margin.” I tip my chin, but I can feel the pinch of pressure behind my eyes. I hate that I feel so desperate for this not to be true.

“Thanks for giving me so much credit, Sam.” Sarcasm and disdain drip from his words. “You must really think highly of me if you think I can’t see past your killer body and whip skills.” He throws his food down but takes a deep, steadying breath. “I fucked up yesterday but please don’t assume I can’t acknowledge how I really feel about you. This may be new territory for me but that doesn’t make it any less real.” He takes my coffee and the tray and places everything on the floor, returning to face me. His deep eyes hold so much love I just want to dive in and never come up for air.

“Jason.” My voice breaks, he interrupts but I don’t know what I was going to say. That I’m so happy he feels that way? That I’m scared shitless he does or that I feel the same? I’m grateful for his impatience.

“You don’t need that barrier with me, angel. I see you, and I want
you
.” His lips cover mine, and he steals my breath along with my fragile heart. Long moments later, he pulls back.

“What now?” I compose myself as I internally try to process the magnitude of what he’s just declared and how that changes everything.

“I need to get some clothes so you can show me the city. I take it you have all you need?” His eyes sparkle with mischief and his grin is relaxed and so wide, his perfect white teeth just dazzle.

“I do now.” Barely a whisper but my words seem to make his smile that bit brighter.

“Why were you naked but for your heels last night? My heart actually stopped at the sight but—”

I laugh with an unladylike snort but can’t help myself. I fall back, shaking my head. His brows furrow with curiosity. He waits for my explanation for what it’s worth.

“My happy shoes.” I declare, but his expression looks none the wiser. “It sounds silly to say it out loud, shallow maybe, but they are so beautiful they always make me smile. The most expensive pair I ever bought, but they never fail to make me happy.” I add with a light shrug.

“They work.” His voice dips to a low gravelly sound that has the hairs on my neck alert and prickling. “They make me
very
happy.”

I am officially the worst guide in the history of this beautiful, ancient city. After we did a speedy shop for essentials so Jason didn’t have to spend the rest of the weekend looking like the sixth member of the Village People, I take the lead and Jason happily follows. I know where to go, but other than stating the bloody obvious…this is the Trevi Fountain or this is the Pantheon, I am shamefully ignorant of the actual history. I just fell in love with the place the first time Leon brought me here. I am happy to wander in a daze absorbing the culture if only on a visual level. But Jason doesn’t seem to be bothered. He holds my hand the entire time we walk from one tourist trap to another. Many of the streets are too narrow for cars but the plethora of mopeds keep them from being quiet or any safer than the main roads.

Midafternoon we find a small restaurant, and I am grateful to rest my aching feet, but more thankful I had some sandals in lieu of my happy heels. I would be crippled from the miles we have covered this afternoon. As it is, I just have frozen toes. In February, this part of Europe may be blessed with clear skies but this city is not far enough south to stave off the chill of winter. It is not really open toe weather.

We are seated by the window, but it is just one small room with maybe twenty-five covers in all. It is cosy, and the smells from the kitchen cause my tummy to rumble before the waiter even hands me the menu. I feel my cheeks heat because there is no way every patron in the place didn’t hear that noise.

My mouth drops open with complete surprise as Jason speaks rapidly and fluently to the waiter, who grins and a playful expression lights his face before he hurries away.

“What?” Jason’s nonchalant air is tainted by his smug grin.

“You speak Italian?” I have excelled at stating the obvious all afternoon. No need to stop now.

“
Sì.”
He grins.

“You speak it really well.” I frown at my own redundant remarks.

“Grazie, bella signorina.”
He leans forward, closing the distance from friendly to intimate. His words sound extremely sensual as they fall from his utterly enticing, soft, full lips.

“How come?” I am still in shock. He sounded like a local.

“Every summer while at University I stayed here with friends.” He shrugs it off, like speaking one of the sexiest languages on the planet is nothing.

“All summer…What did you do?”

He has the decency to look sheepish. “I was a guide…for the English speaking tourists mainly.”

“And you let me make an embarrassing hash of showing you the city, and you didn’t think to mention this at any time.” I scrunch up my napkin and throw it playfully at his face.

“What? And miss the most enlightening tour of all?” His voice drops, and I scowl. “I’m serious; your reactions to the sights told me more than any guidebook. Your face holds all the information and so much more. There is no way I was going to interrupt.” He holds his hands up in all honesty, but I eye him suspiciously nonetheless.

“Hmm, but the waiter, what did you say to him? He smirked at me, so you must have said something.” I sit back because the heat we are generating is causing some serious discomfort between my legs. I shift, but it does little to alleviate the needy ache.

“I asked if he could bring some bread and olives or turn the music up because my beautiful girlfriend is embarrassing me.” His replies deadpan and serious.

“Oh, my god! You didn’t?” I slap my hand over my mouth and look over to where the waiter is speaking to another man. They both glance my way. Their warm smiles turn to chuckles. I want to die or maybe kill.

“Call you my beautiful girlfriend? Of course I did.” I narrow my eyes and purse my lips. The waiter returns with a basket of fresh, warm bread and some plump, green olives. I bite back my retort but can’t hide my bright, pink cheeks. “You know you look stunning with that colour on your
cheeks
.” He holds my gaze, and he effectively makes my face burn a little brighter from his salacious reference. Ground, swallow me now.

I devour the bread because it melts in my mouth, and I don’t want my tummy to register any further complaints. The meal that followed was unbelievably good, simple and delicious. I have the fettuccine with a lemon and parmesan cream sauce and Jason has a pizza
. When in Rome.

Every minute I spend with Jason feels right. I feel a treasured and special. The only way I can describe it that makes sense to me is that he feels like home. The irony isn’t lost on me, because I hated my home growing up, but that didn’t stop me from dreaming of the ideal of a loving home. Somewhere to feel safe, somewhere to feel loved. I don’t think I allowed myself the luxury of believing I would ever have something like this. I’m nervous about labels but being Jason’s girlfriend feels uncommonly good. Leon is the closest thing I have come to someone loving me and me actually believing them, and that hasn’t been easy.

Richard walked away years ago, leaving me to die. But that final act of cruelty was just one of a hundred I’d endured while we were ‘together’. Sadly, the effects of a toxic relationship will always cause unbidden issues. The damage is done. As an adult, I can acknowledge that and the abuse by my mother for what it was. I can tell myself it wasn’t my fault. I
know
it was not my fault. But that rot runs very deep and is very quick to erode the edges of hard-earned positive self-esteem, at any opportunity. It’s much easier to believe the bad stuff.

“Hey, where did you go?” His kind smile and softly spoken words continue to chip at my crumbling shield.

“This is new territory for me, too.” I meet his gaze, kind eyes and an honest soul.

“I know, baby. But if one thing your background as a Domme does provide, it’s the importance of communication.” He flashes his killer smile. “I won’t know your limits unless you tell me.” The sincerity and significance of his words lie heavy. But he is right.

“I think I did tell you the other night,” I remind him. He instantly shifts in his seat. His face is impassive, but his eyes flash with a much more devious memory. I raise my brow at his flush of colour. “You’re hard?” My eyes dip to the significant bulge in his jeans. I lean over to close the distance, but my breathy whisper just causes him to narrow his eyes.

“And
that
isn’t helping.” His tone is a stern warning, but his light kiss on my nose softens the sting. “You didn’t tell me exactly, but you did show me. And that was the fucking hottest thing ever. I have never had someone go all
alpha chick
.” He shifts again and I swear his bulge gets bigger in its confined denim prison. “I know as Selina you
own
the club, but this was real life and wow, Peitra looked like she was going to shit herself.” I giggle. He joins with a much deeper belly laugh. “I left immediately, but my departure didn’t improve her mood. I may have called her a fucking bitch.” I splutter the water I was just sipping.

“Really?” I can’t hide my shock. He is fiery, I know, but always professional.

“She
is
a fucking bitch.” He casually repeats his character assessment of the delightful Peitra.

“Oh, I know she is, but you’re her boss. Isn’t it frowned upon to call employees names?” I admonish lightly.

“She’s an intern, and I am sure she manipulated that meeting—the venue at least.” He scratches his day old stubble pensively. I like the slightly rougher look. He wears the bad boy look almost as well as he wears the sexy business owner. “She probably cancelled the client attending, too.” He comments derisively. “I don’t think there will be a complaint.” He sips his water before continuing. “But she is loosely part of Daniel’s family, so that does make it tricky. Not that he would disagree if I sacked her for gross misconduct,” he points out ruefully.

“That might make family get-togethers interesting. She’s only just graduated; that will kill her career.” I may not like the girl, but her actions have far reaching implications I doubt she considered

“Something she might’ve thought about before she insulted my girlfriend.” He dismisses my concern.

“Maybe you could just put her somewhere else?” I offer with a sly smile. His expression is more one of shock than surprise.

“You’re defending her?” He sits back and stares at me.

“Not at all, but everyone makes mistakes.” I shrug. I’m not a fan but I am also not that vindictive.

“You are too sweet.” He sweeps his knuckles softly across my cheek.

“Don’t go crazy now. I didn’t say
where
you should transfer her. I was thinking maybe janitorial detail?” He barks out a laugh.

We share a delicious creamy coffee desert and sip on the complimentary Limoncello and watch the world go by.

“Do we need some new rules?” I ask after a while.

“I don’t think we do.” The confidence in his reply is clear in his tone. “As long as we talk first, to avoid any misunderstandings. However hard, it’s better to be honest.”