Becoming Sir (10 page)

“You mean with secrets and dishonesty?”
he asked incredulously.

“I was never dish
onest with you,” she came back with.

“But I was dishonest by keeping secrets from you. I did the same thing with my wife and it was wrong. I don’t want to live that way anymore.” His face was bleak with sorrow and his statement never more heartfelt.

Sonya snapped, her
normally elegant face contorting into something unattractive and her body stiffening. “This is ridiculous. This whole BDSM thing has gotten out of control and those people at that club are brain washing you. You’re fine just the way you are, Sawyer Morrison, and some things are best left unsaid!”

“Y
ou’re never going to the club with me, are you?” he asked softly when he came to the realization that Sonya had no interest in living the kind of life he wanted to live.

“Please,
Sawyer. Those people…” she pleaded.

“Stop
. Those people have taught me more about myself in the last few weeks than anyone has in the last twenty years. I want to share that with you,” he told her with conviction, silently praying that she would change her mind.

Loo
king away as if disgusted, she let out a pitiful sob. “I just can’t. I want you, but not like that. I’ve seen Dylan and Isabel’s videos. I don’t want to bow at your feet and be whipped and leashed,” she choked out.

Sawyer clenched his jaw and struggled to maintain an even, conciliatory tone.
“Is that all you think BDSM is? I’m not Young and I’m not asking you to be Isabel. I have different needs and wants than they do, but you’ll never know what those needs are because you’re too afraid - like I was; like most people are of what they don’t know.”

“
What they do is disgusting,” she said in a voice that seemed to come from a long way off, her statement finally piercing his composure.

When
Sawyer responded, there was an edge to his voice and his tone became chilly. “What Isabel and Young have is beautiful and sincere, and there’s nothing disgusting about it.”

Sonya’s tear-filled eyes scanned his face
earnestly. “I know you hold them in high regard and near to your heart, but they’ve manipulated you into thinking this is all okay when it’s not. They’ve influenced you…”

“Enough,”
he warned as he stood. She had no right to point fingers when it came to what she perceived as manipulation and there was no way in hell he would allow her to speak so harshly about the people whom he considered family.

She
nodded in agreement and pushed herself off the couch angrily and answered in a rush of words, “You’re right; it is enough. No one can say I didn’t try to change your mind. I thought by telling you I was seeing someone else you might see things differently, but I can see this is going nowhere.”

Gripping
onto her upper arm, Sawyer pulled Sonya back just as she made it to the door.

“
So you lied about seeing someone?” Blinking rapidly, her cheeks reddened and her eyes averted his gaze, giving away her guilt and he felt like he had been punched in the stomach. His mouth set into a straight line. “So who’s doing the manipulating now?” She swallowed hard and her eyebrows pinched together in shame. “It’s not your place to try and change my mind about my decisions. It never has been,” he rebutted in a clipped voice that forbade any further discussion.

A tense silence enveloped the room and t
hey stood staring into each other’s eyes for several awkward moments. It really was over. Sawyer couldn’t grasp the reality of it fully until he saw the empty look in Sonya’s eyes. She wasn’t going to change her mind. Not now. Not ever.

Tired of the silence
looming between them like a heavy mist, he loosened his grasp on her arm and grabbed her face fiercely; kissing her like it was the last kiss of a dying man. And that’s exactly what it was – the final kiss of a man whose heart had died a little. Their tongues danced inside each other’s mouth briefly and the familiarity of her taste tore at his heart. Sonya’s body softened and a stray tear rolled down her cheek. Pulling away, he stared down into her sad gray eyes and swept away the hot tear with his thumb.

Sawyer’s
voice dropped in volume and faded to a hushed stillness. “No matter where life takes us, I’ll always be here for you if you need me.”

Sonya stepped out of his
reach and opened the door. With one last withering look over her shoulder, Sawyer inhaled a deep breath. Only when the door closed behind her did he let it out. It was over. It was really fucking over.

The week had been difficult for
Sawyer. Things were finally over with Sonya, and even though he hadn’t had a lot of contact with her for many months, it didn’t make it any easier to accept. Based on the way she had reacted and her harsh criticism about things she knew nothing about, Sawyer could understand on some small level how Dylan and Isabel must have felt facing everyone’s cruel and judgmental words when their private lives were aired for the world to see.

He coped
with Sonya’s loss the way he did when he lost Serena; by keeping his head down and busying himself with work. The only difference this time around was he didn’t rely on Jack Daniels to help him forget his pain.

The task of
digging up all the dirt he could on Emilio’s business partners was a welcome chore, and it was proving to be worthwhile. The main culprit in contesting the disbursement of Mr. Ibanez’s funds had some pretty nasty skeletons in his closet that might persuade him to rethink his decision.

After a meeting with a potential
new client, Dylan sauntered in grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Boy, have I got plans for you tonight, Morrison.”

Sawyer looked up, less than amused. “Oh?”

“A friend from out of town called and he’s paying us a visit
. He’s impatient to see me and Isa’s stomping grounds. When I told him about your training, he was excited to offer his assistance. He’s a master of the bullwhip and…”

“What the hell
?” Sawyer swung his head back further to look at Dylan and grunted with utter disbelief. He had been practicing with the short flogger at home for a week on his bedroom wall and had just gotten comfortable wielding that, but a bullwhip? No way. No way in hell.

Sawyer glared at Dylan.
“I hope that’s a joke. I’ve barely learned the basics of working the flogger. You can’t expect me to move onto something like a bullwhip this soon.”

Dylan pushed his dark ha
ir off his forehead revealing the roguish gleam in his light blue eyes. “Oh, simmer down. It won’t kill you to give it a try. You don’t have to slash and burn to enjoy the whip. Just ask Isa. She was scared out of her mind when she first saw it, but now… just mentioning it gets her all hot and juicy. Anyway, we’ll take it slow.”

He
rolled his eyes and huffed. Surely not slow enough for his tastes. And damn if those two weren’t like two peas in a pod. Hot and juicy over a bullwhip? It was unimaginable. “I’d say you two were a match made in heaven, but somehow that doesn’t sound quite right. You’re more like a match made in kinky purgatory.”

Dylan laughed heartily.
“Damn straight we were made for each other. Isa has even wielded it herself.”

“No shit? Isn’t it longer in length than she is tall?”
he chuckled.

Dylan paused, h
is eyes becoming unfocused and his voice drifting off as if thinking back on some fond memory. “It didn’t stop her from whipping my ass.”

Sawyer
stared back with complete astonishment on his face. “You let her whip you?”

“It was our honeymoon and she was going through some difficult shit. I knew she was s
truggling for control, so yeah, I let her whip me. And it was fucking amazing.”

He
would never
ever
get used to the idea of Dylan being a submissive. He had never actually witnessed it but knew that behind closed dungeon doors, they were both switches.

“So who’s this friend?”
he asked, changing the subject quickly.

“Luke Bastille. He’s an interesting character.
Anyway, I thought we could practice at home a bit before going to the club later. Isa’s all wound up about it and has an impromptu dinner party planned with some fun in the dungeon for dessert. Maybe Sonya would be more comfortable experimenting at our place instead of the club.”

He
sighed and shook his head. “That’s never going to happen. Besides the fact that she’s not even remotely open to anything BDSM, we ended things Saturday night.”

Dylan pinched his eyebrows together and looked genuinely
cheerless. “Shit, Morrison, I’m sorry to hear that.  Well, I’m sure Sarah would love to join you. Isa would probably like that better anyway.”

“Yes, I’ll call her rig
ht now. Thanks, Young, for everything.”

“Don’t go getting all sappy on me, bro,” Dylan rolled his eyes.

“Bro?” Sawyer asked, raising his eyebrows at Dylan.

“Don’t you know? You and
I are embroiled in a bromance.”

Sawyer’s
body stiffened and his voice rose in surprise. “Don’t I have a say in the matter?”

“No and neithe
r do I, it was Isabel’s assessment of the situation. But you know it’s true. You can’t quit me,” he added with a slight smile of boldness.

Walking over, Dylan
punched Sawyer in the arm nearly knocking him out of his chair.

“Now who’s getting sappy? And ‘I can’t quit you’? What are we – a couple of gay cowboys? Christ, you’re arrogant. Even if I was gay, you’re not my type.” Sawyer tossed his head back and eyed Dylan with cold triumph.

Dylan waved his hand in dismissal.
“Bah. Whatever. I’m everybody’s type. Be at my place at six.” Dylan strode out the door conceitedly, but not before turning to face Sawyer with big, exaggerated eyes. “And find your balls because you’re taking a turn at the bullwhip,” he pointed his finger at Sawyer.

“Hell, if Isabel can do
it, I can, too,” he shook his head.

“I’ll tell her you said that,”
Dylan warned, narrowing his eyes evilly just before exiting the room.

***

Both Sawyer and Dylan left work early to prepare for the evening of carousing. He was still having a difficult time wrapping his head around the idea of using a bullwhip for anything other than to inflict pain, but he reminded himself to keep an open mind.  He had called Sarah on his way home and was happy to hear that she had the night off and could go, so before going home, he took a detour to pick her up.

Arriving at her small home on the outskirts of Denver in the suburb of Aurora,
he scanned the area vigilantly. The home was nice but the neighborhood was iffy at best and he detested that she was not only putting herself in danger with her job, but in the area she lived. Perhaps he could remedy that.

He drove around her block several times before parking
in her driveway. When he finally did, Sarah was waiting on her front porch with a bag slung over her shoulder. With such short notice, she hadn’t had time to change before Sawyer’s arrival and planned to get ready at his place. He met her, took the bag and opened the car door for her.

Cl
imbing in, she smiled at him. “What were you doing?”

“C
hecking out your neighborhood.”

“I
know it’s not the best, but the rent is unbeatable. After Master Doug died, I had to sell our home in Englewood. He didn’t have a will and even though I got all his belongings, I couldn’t afford the house payment on my own. Both of us being fairly young, we never considered that he might need one,” Sarah commented.

“There seems to be a lot of that going around
lately, but age has nothing to do with it. I just think people are never prepared for death and don’t want to face the possibility of their own mortality and eventual demise. Hell, Isabel’s father didn’t have a will and he was much older than you.”

“I remember reading about that whole mess. She and Dylan have been through a lot.”

“Yes, they have,” he agreed.

“
You, too. Seeing as you’re so close to them, I’m sure the events affected you greatly as well.”

He didn’t want to
start his relationship off with Sarah with lies, so instead of responding, he sat quietly without commenting any further. Sonya was still on his mind, and that, too, made him quieter than usual.

“Is
everything okay? You seem reserved tonight.” Sarah remarked, squeezing Sawyer’s thigh.

He
sighed, irritated with himself. “My apologies, I recently ended things with someone I cared for a great deal. She’s still on my mind, but I assure you I’ll be fully attentive to you tonight.”

“I didn’t realize you ha
d a girlfriend,” Sarah stated barely audible, running her hand over the leather seat beneath her and scanning the floorboard.

“I don’t.
I didn’t. We were on a hiatus.”

Sarah turned her face away from
Sawyer, looking out the window. “I feel terrible.”

“Why
? It had nothing to do with you,” Sawyer replied without inflection.

“That’s not what I
feel bad about. It’s…”

“
Go on,” he gently urged, fingering her chin and forcing her to look at him.

Sarah’s squeaky, soft voice was crystal clear.
“I feel awful for being glad you’re not committed to anyone. We hardly know each other and it’s a selfish thing for me to feel. I’m sorry.”

Touched with Sarah’s budding feelings toward him, o
ne side of Sawyer’s mouth lifted, the corners of his soft brown eyes wrinkling when he did so. So Sarah was interested in him for more than business, too. “There’s no need to be sorry. In all honesty, I knew things were over between Sonya and me a long time ago, I just couldn’t bring myself to face it.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“We want different things in life, that’s all.”

Sara
h nodded and said nothing more for the majority of the drive and he was grateful for the time she allowed him to think things over. He also appreciated that she never pushed him out of his comfort zone when discussing things, but he suspected that may not always be the case.

Coming to rest
at a stoplight, Sawyer revved the engine loudly making Sarah’s eyes widen and flash her pearl-white teeth.

“I love that sound.”
Sawyer lifted his eyebrows at her and punched the gas pedal quickly, the mufflers of his 1970 Shelby Mustang rattling the windows. “And the smell of exhaust, too. Hot tamales, this is a gorgeous car,” she gushed.

“
Thank you. Restoring her took my mind off my wife’s death. It was a lot of work but it was well worth the effort. I guess I’m a sucker for a nice chassis,” he commented suggestively, his eyes moving over her body seductively.

“So, it’s
a
her
?”

Tipp
ing his head back, he peered at Sarah’s face. “All cars are females, don’t you know that?”

“Why? If I ever get an old
classic like this, it’s going to be of the male persuasion with a manly name like Torin which means Chief of Thunder.”

He
tossed his head back and laughed. “It doesn’t work like that. Them’s the rules, you silly little girl,” he joked.

Sarah’s smile widened and
she gestured toward her body, “Little? I’m 5’8” and there’s nothing little about me.”

“You’re a great deal smaller than me so I can call you that. And you
r five feet, eight inches of perfection as far as I’m concerned,” he smiled playfully.

Her
eyes lit up. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Sawyer huffed, “I’m not a man who doles out compliments just for the sak
e of it. If I say you have a perfect chassis, it’s because in my eyes, it’s fucking perfect.”

Turning her body to face
Sawyer, the lust on Sarah’s face was easily readable. “Thank you, Sir. I can honestly say no one has ever said that to me, and I’ll never doubt your sincerity again.” She gently shook her head as if clearing her thoughts. “So what’s your car’s name?”

“This hot little vixen
doesn’t have a name. She simply
is.
”

“She who has no name? Boring,”
she tittered, drawing out her last word.

That sounded like a challenge
and Sawyer grinned. “I’ll show you boring.”

He
punched the gas again making his tires squeal loudly. The back end of his black muscle car slid around as they sped away from the light, leaving a trail of thick, black rubber and smoke in their wake.

Sarah ye
lped and screamed with delight, and he smiled naughtily, envisioning her screaming the same way as he was thrusting into her.

***

Once at Sawyer’s condo, Sarah laid out several outfits on Sawyer’s bed.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress
, she pointed to the clothing. “What would you like me to wear?”

“Leaving a decision like that up to me
is a dangerous thing, Snowflake,” his eyes darkened.

Her eyes froze on his lips.
“Why?”

“Because if left up to me, I’d prefer you
wear nothing at all and we stay in all night.” Sarah’s mouth parted but she said nothing. Sawyer raised his eyebrows hopefully, “Is your birthday suit an option?”