Safeword: Davenport (29 page)

"My husband died a few years ago, and I came here today because we loved this place. I needed to tell him I've found someone I think can make me happy, ask him if that's okay. I think I just got my answer. I'm sorry for falling apart, but what are the odds a group of people would come along and have this conversation, right after I've sat and asked him if..."

She pulled herself to standing with the help of the tree, trying to focus through her tears, her bruised ass aching from sitting on the ground for so long, her back stiff; and she desperately wanted to get away from the college kids so she didn't feel like such an idiot crying in front of them. She let go of the tree and took a step, but the guy at her side touched her arm, holding it just above her elbow.

"You shouldn't walk around crying out here, the footing's too treacherous. Come sit with us. Where are you headed next?"

She told them, and it turned out they'd parked a car on this end and driven another to the trailhead, so they'd be hiking out the same way. She learned it was Jake who'd come to check on her, and now kept talking to her, moving her from one subject to another, and before long she was joking and cutting up. She stopped and looked at him, observed his facial expressions, watched his body language; and saw a handsome young man with caring eyes.

"You're good, Jake. I feel much better. I'm not sure how you did it, but thank you."

One of the other girls choked on her drink, coughed a few times, and said, “Yeah, he's a psych major. The only guy I know who walks towards crying women instead of away from them."

Jake looked embarrassed and Dana felt the need to defend him. “He's got a gift; he's smart to get the education to go with it.” She turned to him. “You'll be exceptional at your job when you graduate. Thanks for your help; I think I'm okay to walk out of here on my own now, though."

He smiled. “I'd insist on walking you out, but I believe this is a quest, which means you need to finish it alone. Be safe, and good luck with your new man."

When Dana arrived at the Foster Falls campground she focused on getting her campsite ready before dark. There weren't many people and she found an out-of-the-way spot without a soul in sight. Her small, one-person tent took less than five minutes to assemble, so within fifteen minutes her campsite was set up and a nice fire built. She'd eaten her fifth s'more when her cellphone rang, and wasn't surprised to see it was Kirsten.

"I just wanted to check in, see how you're doing."

"I'm gorging on fire roasted marshmallows between scrumptious chocolate and graham crackers. I figure I burned enough calories hiking today that I can eat them all night."

Kirsten laughed. “If you've got a fire you've gotta have s'mores. How'd it go?"

She told her therapist what had happened at the point and asked, “Am I reading too much into it? Assuming I received an answer, when it may have been coincidence?"

"Think about the word coincidence, break it down. When two events coincide, it means they happen at the same time. As you said, the odds of these things
coinciding
, of you asking and then having people come along to have that particular conversation, are slim. Try re-pronouncing coincidence as co-incide-ence. Does it feel any different?"

"Yeah. I need to accept that the two things happened together. I'm going to choose to believe someone from the other side wanted me to have the permission I requested. Whether it was Garnet or my guardian angel or even God—I asked a question and
someone
answered."

An owl hooted as she finished her sentence, sounding as if he were in a tree right over her, and her skin shivered to goose bumps.

Dana spent a good part of the next morning at the base of Foster Falls, moving close enough for the spray to lightly mist her, and experiencing all of the tens of thousands of negative ions bouncing around the canyon and through her body. When she finally climbed out of the gorge she was energized, and felt better than she had in a long while. She used the hour and a half drive home to consider the future, and what she was willing to commit to with Zach.

As soon as she closed her front door she began stripping out of her clothes, dumping them in the hamper as she walked by, and carefully pulling the chain over her head before purposefully placing both wedding rings in the bottom compartment of her jewelry box—the section with the seldom worn items.

Turn the page for Chapter One of Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon

[Back to Table of Contents]

Candace Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world.

She lives with her husband of 14 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming.

Candace writes romance books about characters who happen to have some extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show people who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work.

You can visit her on the web at candaceblevins.com and kinkyeverafter.com .

If you enjoyed Safeword: Davenport, you might also enjoy:

.

Safeword: Rainbow

.Safeword: Storm Clouds

.Safeword: Matte

.Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon (scheduled for release August 3, 2012)

.Safeword: Quinacrodone (to be released later in 2012)

[Back to Table of Contents]

Dana carefully pulled the chain over her head before purposefully placing both wedding rings in the bottom compartment of her jewelry box—the section with the seldom worn items. Closing the drawer was bittersweet, but she didn't dwell on it as she proceeded towards her bathroom, looking forward to a lengthy soak. She took extra pains to shave everything, kept the conditioner on her hair longer than normal, and used a loofah to exfoliate everywhere she didn't shave. When she got out of the tub, she dried and fixed her hair before polishing her nails a deep crimson, applying her make-up more dramatically than usual, and finally slinking into her sinfully sexy red dress. She couldn't show much skin with her back still bruised, but it was snug from shoulders to just below the knees, leaving little to the imagination while hiding her marks.

She timed it perfectly and he arrived downstairs as she was wiggling into the sumptuous fabric. She unlocked the elevator, and was waiting at the door as he rounded the corner.

He paused in the middle of the hallway, surprised to see her, and smiled before walking again.

"You're beautiful, Dana. I've been so nervous about this weekend, but seeing you in this dress, it's like...” He stopped, scanning her with his gaze so she felt naked all the way down to her soul. Tilting his head, considering, he spoke slowly. “It's more than the dress. Your eyes are clear; the doubt's gone. Something's changed since we had lunch Wednesday afternoon."

"Yes, it has. Don't worry, it's all good, and I'll tell you about it at dinner. Where are you taking me?"

"Foodworks, and then hopefully home with me."

"Hmm, maybe I should pack a few things. Give me a sec."

"I asked you to include me in your adventures from here on out. You said you would."

Dana was taken aback; she hadn't expected him to react with anger over her solo hike. “Yes, sexual adventures. Not hiking through the woods. I had to do this alone, Zach. It was important. I spent Thursday looking back, saying goodbye, and today was devoted to looking forward. I closed a door yesterday, and concentrated on opening another today."

He was quiet a moment, staring into his empty salad bowl, refusing eye contact. When he finally looked up, she realized he wasn't just mad, he was furious.

"I asked to be your support, be there for you if...” He gazed out the window for a few heartbeats before turning back to her, his ice blue eyes cutting into her soul. “I stipulated you should not go off alone to handle emotional things by yourself again."

Her insides shook, but she held it together and spoke slowly, willing him to hear her,
believe
her. “If that's what you asked, then we have a case of broken communication. If I'd made that promise I'd have told you what I was doing before I left.” He looked down again and she kept her voice low but firm as she said, “Dammit, look at me and
please
believe me. My understanding of what you requested was that I wouldn't be exploring the depths of my masochism, or the possibility I'm a switch, or anything to do with BDSM or sex with anyone unless you're there, too."

She could see him thinking it through; trying to remember exactly what'd been said. He finally let out a long breath, saying, “I believe you. I don't recall the exact wording, but I can see how you could've misunderstood my meaning."

"Are we good, then?"

"Yes. I'd wondered how you'd feel about my drawing up the things I'd like from you in contract form, to go over this weekend and negotiate. With this
misunderstanding
, hopefully you'll understand why I think a written agreement is better than a verbal one."

Her stomach flip-flopped. “You want me to sign a contract?"

"Not a slave contract, just a written record of whatever agreement we reach—a vehicle to help us figure out what we're both willing to commit to. It killed me to let you go off without me last weekend. I don't want to keep you from branching out and exploring, but I want—I
need
—to be part of it. I tried to create wording to show I'm not trying to curtail your exploration, to assure you I'm prepared to deal with you needing to spread your wings and experiment, as long as I can be there."

"Okay. We'll look it over when we get back to your place. I'm prepared to commit to a good deal, and I'm interested in reading what you've drawn up.” Her eyes flicked up to movement over Zach's shoulder. “I think I see our food coming."

The wait staff made a big production of delivering their meals, and both began eating once they were alone. She took advantage of the silence to analyze how best to handle Zach's hurt feelings. He'd forgiven her, accepted it was a misunderstanding, but she could see it'd cut deep and she needed to help him understand.

She collected her thoughts and said, “You've been serious with a few people since Bethany passed, right?” He inclined his head and she continued. “Did you ever go to the cemetery and talk to her about it? Tell her you were moving on, and part of you felt guilty for it, but you needed to live?"

"I did, yes."

Damn, he could freeze water with his voice. She ignored his tone and plowed ahead. “Could you've asked permission to move on if you took your new girlfriend? Or was it something you had to do alone?"

"I needed to... ah. I see."

"Do you?"

He nodded and reached across the table for her hand. “All I heard was out of town, spent the night, there were tears, and once again it was another man who soothed you. I'm afraid I didn't think the rest of it through."

Finally, his voice was warm again. She took a breath. “Well, now I'll know how to tell when I've pissed you off, anyway."

He smiled, looking slightly embarrassed. “I'm sorry; I guess I'm a little touchy right now. I dealt with everything in Nashville, but only because I sensed if I didn't let you go off on a final solo quest, a relationship between us was doomed before it started. I have no say over what you do, I'm not your Master or your Sir or even your boyfriend, yet... but if we're to have a chance I need to hear from you that you'll let me be there for you. I thought I'd had your promise, and..."

"I'll let you be there for me.” She paused. “Wait, I need to qualify that. I'll have three days a year, at least for a few more years, I'm probably going to have some sadness. You may have to let me have time to myself. I expect you'll have at least two days as well."

"Yes, her birthday and our anniversary. What are your three?"

"Technically four, I guess, but two of them are together so I think of them as three. We first met on New Year's Eve, and his birthday is New Year's Day. The others are our wedding anniversary, and I haven't dealt well on the anniversary of the week he died, either. I won't go running off out of town without you, but I may need time to myself."

"Okay, noted.” He took a sip of water, considering. “As much as I want to hold you through any grief, I get that we each handle things in our own way. But I'd like to suggest something for both of us to think about and decide on later."

He looked out the window as he said, “My first date with Bethany was on the Fourth of July, and we regarded the Pops in the Park fireworks as one of our anniversaries.” His gaze returned to her, emotion threatening to spill from his eyes. “Since you and I both have a holiday with painful memories, I'd like to suggest we do something special on those days to give us different memories. The other days will fade eventually, so they won't always be a sad day. But the holidays? I don't know, but I'd like for us to have a conversation about it after we've had a chance to mull it over."

She took another couple of bites, finally noticing how good the food was. She wasn't prepared to answer him, couldn't even consider doing something else on New Year's right now, and needed to change the subject. “So, what are the high points of this contract you want me to sign?"

His forehead tensed briefly before relaxing, and he answered without commenting on the subject change. “I'd like us to commit to a primarily monogamous relationship, having sex with others only after we discuss how we feel about it as a couple. I'm fine with you Topping Jacob, and while I won't insist on always being present, I'll need to know when you're together—no clandestine scenes between the two of you. I'm not planning, at this time, to have sex with anyone else, but if I ever want to, you and I will talk about it beforehand and it won't happen unless you give the okay. Should our relationship shift to Master and slave, that'll change, of course."