Safeword: Davenport (2 page)

When they finished the third floor she followed him down a circular staircase near the back of the house. Dana assumed the tour was over, but as they walked by the locked room, Zach pulled a key ring from his pocket, opened the door, and motioned her in.

She'd guessed correctly. Frederick did such beautiful work—she recognized one of his St. Andrew's Crosses in a corner, a bondage table in the middle of the room, two styles of spanking benches, a swing, and another of Frederick's beds—big enough for an orgy—tucked away in another corner. The walls were a muted peach, the wood a pickled blonde, and the leather padding a soft tawny gray. The hardwood floors were broken up by a variety of luxurious throw rugs scattered throughout the space in strategic places.

"This room was left open when we hosted play parties, or when we invited other couples.” He looked away, his gaze focused on something she couldn't see. “Bethany was a twenty-four/seven slave with no say in whether I took on short term slaves, or when I loaned her to trusted friends while they were here. I allowed her free rein in certain areas—she worked with the architect to conceive the house, and with designers and subcontractors to decorate it. I told her what I wanted in here and she found Frederick and made it happen; and commissioned him to create our bed."

He walked to the bondage table and turned, leaning a hip against it and looking into her eyes again, making her heart skip a few beats. He crossed his arms as he said, “I think perhaps a happy medium between tossing and keeping might be to refinish."

His eyes so mesmerized her, she took a few seconds to process his words. He looked away and broke the spell, but spoke before she could respond. “Bethany had everything in here finished with this bleached look—can you use a darker, richer, stain? Maybe swap out the brushed steel hardware for copper? I want simple changes in here—wall color and throw rugs, possibly darker leather—but the main pieces should stay. However, the bed upstairs...” He paused, uncrossed his arms and used them to brace himself on the table. “I want to keep it but give it a different look. Perhaps we ask Frederick to change out the flourishes the two of them designed?"

She nodded and he continued. “You can relocate this room but it must remain on the first floor, as we...” He stopped, closed his eyes a brief moment. “I, request party guests remain on this floor."

They finished the tour outside and she said, “I saw a laptop and tablet on our walkthrough; would you prefer I send my recommendations via hard copy in a binder, or would it be more convenient to have them in digital form?"

"I'd prefer we discuss them in person."

She tapped her tablet to pull up her calendar. “Of course. How is three weeks from today? January twenty-eighth, around two?"

"Are you a Domme or a sub, Dana?"

She didn't look up as she slid her tablet's screen to another page and finger typed him into her schedule. “I'm not sure the question's relevant to our working relationship. Let's keep this business, please. Once we decide on the majority of decisions we should be fine touching base every other week, but we'll likely be meeting two to three times a week for a while.” She met his eyes. “You're prepared for your home to be invaded by workmen for the next six to eight months?"

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Dana thought she'd put the matter to rest, because in the seven months she and Zach worked together he hadn't mentioned kink as it might relate to her again. She redesigned every room in the house, moving furniture with heavy sentimental value into guest rooms, arranging shipment to Bethany's out of town siblings for the pieces he wasn't keeping, and making suggestions to replace the ones given away.

When they chose new furniture for the master suite's sitting area, he requested Frederick create a sturdy cage, camouflaged as a glass topped coffee table—a place to store submissives if he wished to sleep alone. It was everything she could do to keep from whimpering at the thought.

Most of the changes he made in the kink department hit at least one of her buttons. She'd thought those feelings gone for good, but on several occasions caught herself looking wistfully at the equipment in his playroom, the empty spot in her heart threatening to drag her back into the throes of despair once again. She'd handled it though, determined not to sink into the pain.

Today was the closing walk-through and Zach had requested she bring her final invoice so they could complete their business together. Finishing the project would spare her the frequent reminders of her old life, but she would miss their weekly meetings with Zach's special cinnamon and vanilla coffee.

If she were honest with herself, she'd admit it wasn't the coffee she would miss—it was Zach. He was exacting, but kind, and somehow managed to be a perfectionist without being difficult. He was smart, and funny, and had taken the disruptions to his home in stride. She'd miss his gentle voice asking her how she was doing, and those blue eyes looking as if they genuinely cared.

As they finished the walk-through he said, “I can't tell you how much I love what you've done. There's enough of her around I don't feel as if I've tried to exorcise her from my life, but you made the house distinct to my tastes and I want you to know I appreciate it. This process has helped me heal, in large part due to your thoughtfulness and consideration. I even had a girlfriend a few months, though we've long since separated. Did you bring your final invoice?"

He took the manila envelope she offered and motioned towards a sofa. “Please, have a seat. I'll be right back."

Dana thought it odd he'd had a girlfriend while she worked with him, as she hadn't seen evidence of a woman in the house, or of play equipment being used. She'd dated someone a short time also but it still seemed wrong he'd had a relationship she hadn't known about.

He was only gone a few moments before striding into the room with purpose and placing a smaller envelope on the table beside her. “Final check. I believe this ends our business transaction?"

She slid the envelope into her purse and stood. “Yes. It's been a pleasure working with you. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to contact me. “

As she turned towards the door he said, “I'd like to ask you out. On a date."

Dana's insides ignited. She'd harbored a secret attraction to him for so long, safe behind her rule about not dating clients, and she suddenly realized she'd just lost her protective barrier.

She'd been out on dates, gone out with a nice gentleman over the weekend, in fact. However, submitting would be... no, she'd only kneeled for Garnet. She couldn't surrender her will to anyone else.

Pivoting on one foot, she made sure her back was straight and looked him in the eye, working hard to pull off the Domme look. “You still have no idea of whether I'm a Top or bottom, Zach. I'm flattered, but I'm afraid it wouldn't work."

He spoke quietly. Earnestly. “You're submissive. We run in different circles so I had difficulty finding someone who knew you. A friend who used to live in Nashville remembered you, had seen you and your husband playing together. I'm not the only one who's lost a spouse and turned their libido off. The difference is, I've switched mine back on. I want to help stimulate yours again, too."

Her eyes began to water—not from sadness, but because she was pissed. “You had no right, Mr. Irving. My husband passed away a few weeks after your wife. I sold our home and bought a condo downtown within months of his death, drastically downsizing and giving away most of our shared belongings. You have no idea what I've done to move through my grief."

He continued in the same soft voice. “You were submissive to him, and you're a masochist. I don't know if you were twenty-four/seven or only his during scenes.” He smiled, his crystal blue eyes daring her to deny his next words. “I know you like the cage in my bedroom though."

She sank into the nearest chair, deflated but no longer angry. “That's all you found out? Descriptions of our public play at the club?"

He nodded and she dropped her gaze to her feet a moment before standing again. She wasn't submissive anymore, and looking up wasn't working for her.

"Tell me what you're seeking. What type of relationship do you envision for your future?” She only asked so she could shoot him down with reasons it wouldn't work—no matter how attracted to him she may be, her submission had only belonged to Garnet.

She told herself if Zach weren't a Dom they might have a chance; but a little voice in her head whispered she wouldn't be drawn to him if he were vanilla.

Taking a seat on a nearby sofa, Zach looked up and said, “I want someone else to love—to share my life with, grow old with. I'm a Dom, so they'll need to get off on submitting to my control in the bedroom and playroom; but otherwise I don't have any specific requirements in mind."

He wasn't giving her enough to work with. She tried another tack. “Bethany was twenty-four/seven. Do you want that again?"

"Not necessarily,” he said, shaking his head as he leaned back and rested his arm on the sofa's armrest. “Not at first, for sure. I want twenty-four/seven availability for sex, but I prefer a partner for everything else. Maybe pick an occasional week or two for a full-time dynamic where I spend brief periods micromanaging her, but not on a permanent basis.” He shrugged. “However, if we fell for each other and she needed an Owner, I could do it again."

Damn, that wasn't too far off from the sort of relationship she'd probably want, should she ever venture into another long-term power exchange. Which she didn't plan to do. She wondered though—if he'd already been in what sounded like a TPE and liked it so much...

Dana sat back down, facing him across the coffee table. “Why not full time? You talk as if your relationship worked perfectly for the two of you, why would you not want it again?"

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Bethany was raised in a fundamentalist household with more rules than any child should have to learn. She got a full scholarship at an out-of-town college, and her parents only allowed her to go after finding a suitable church in the area, and arranging for the pastor and his wife to keep an eye on her and chaperone anything besides required classes. Unfortunately, her father had no idea he'd placed her under the domain of a sadist."

Obviously angry all over again, he shook his head. “He's in jail now but he woke things up in her, turned her into a sexual creature who craved pain and sex. She was a virgin when he got hold of her and...” he stopped abruptly, reining himself in before continuing.

"When I met her she was making a lot of very bad choices, going from man to man to man, needing someone to tell her what to do, clinging to the men who treated her like shit. She was a beautiful soul, but she desperately required guidance. She'd never been allowed to make her own decisions, and I had to teach her how to choose something as simple as what she wanted to eat. Once I took her in and gave her boundaries and the sensations she craved, taught her enough self-awareness to understand how to determine choices based on her own wants and needs, she blossomed. I was so proud of her when she took control and helped manage the design and construction of our home."

He paused, his gaze on the far wall without seeing it. He closed his eyes briefly before turning to meet hers, making her heart stutter with the passion and raw emotion he allowed her to see. “As much as I loved her, I'd prefer more of a partner this time."

"What went wrong with your three month relationship a few months ago?"

"We were compatible in bed and in the play room; we just didn't have much else in common.” He shrugged. “I enjoy attending plays and live music performances; she preferred NASCAR races. We parted on friendly terms, but agreed it wouldn't work."

"You know I'm a masochist. Are you a sadist?"

He shook his head. “I hurt to show I'm in control, to demonstrate I can—more for D/s purposes than sadistic. I
am
good at inflicting pain though, so as long as you're okay with displaying the proper amount of submission, I think I can provide the sensations you're looking for."

Finally a reason it wouldn't work, so why was she sad? She should be skipping to the door relieved instead of explaining her feelings. “I think I need a sadist, not a Dom. I've only submitted to one man—Garnet woke it up in me, trained me to be his. I've considered bottoming, to take care of my masochistic tendencies, but the idea of submitting is just...” she stopped, started again. “Belonging to someone would be wrong. Dating doesn't feel like cheating, nor does having sex, but he taught me to submit. I can't give myself, my will, to another Dom."

Zach held eye contact for a few dozen heartbeats before giving the briefest nod. “I can work with that. I'd enjoy the chance to Top you without power exchange, to see where it leads. If I may ask, how active have you been since Garnet passed?"

She'd thought she was turning him down, but he was reacting as if he assumed she was making an offer. Could she accept his proposition? Did she dare?

The floor came into focus, and she forced her gaze back up, his gentle eyes calming her nerves. She decided to answer the easy question first—she wouldn't be interested in going out with a man who'd just been on a few dates since being widowed, either.

"I've gone out with maybe seven or eight men, but only had sex with two—one was a three week rebound, and I dated the other for several months. Neither were the least bit adventurous in bed. I'm pretty sure I'll be okay with a relationship with no power exchange, but I won't be satisfied with vanilla for the rest of my life. It's good I gave it a try and got it out of my system, but I'm going to need more."

He grinned. “I like you and I want to get to know you better. Will you go out with me? I won't ask you to submit, and I promise you if we decide to have sex, there'll be nothing vanilla about it."

She already knew she enjoyed his company. What could it hurt? “What did you have in mind for our first date?"

"Tomorrow night, dinner at The Mansion Inn. I also have tickets for the symphony Friday evening, if you'd like to join me and a few friends to eat at the Southside before the show?"