Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon (7 page)

She pulled from his arms first, figuring it'd be better for her to move away than to feel empty as he pulled back.

"Hey, hold on a sec. I need a kiss, please."

Dana hesitated, decided if he didn't want to Top her right now, maybe she shouldn't be the well-mannered sub he was expecting. She turned back to him and threw her leg over his hips, sliding down and rubbing her cheek to his, skimming her lips over his forehead, teasing her way to his mouth. She felt his heart beating under hers as she ground into him and used her lips, her tongue, and finally her teeth to seduce. She still wanted him, like a drug she couldn't get enough of.

He let her have control a few minutes, but when she pulled his bottom lip between hers and ran her tongue over it he took command—flipping them over and kissing her, his mouth hungry, voracious.

She couldn't help it, laughter spilled out of her mid-kiss, and he pulled back and grinned with her, kissing the top of her nose and saying, “Come on, let's get dressed."

"Can I...” She stopped, rephrased. “I'm going to take a quick shower first. Should I do that in your bathroom or the other one?"

"Mine,” he said firmly. Lifting off her and rolling to the side. “I've reached a few decisions, and we're going to have some lengthy conversations once I'm sure you're out of your submissive mindset."

He stood and helped her out of bed as she said, “A shower and clothes should go a long ways towards making that happen."

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Zach ordered food from Dana's favorite diner—good solid country cooking. He insisted they not talk of their past twenty-four hours, or of anything having to do with power exchange, until after dinner. Dana had argued he wasn't the boss right now, but he'd pointed out they needed some distance from the scene before returning to it. Knowing he was right, she began asking him how his latest work was going.

When they finally made it to the scrumptious Death by Chocolate cake, she put her foot down. “Dinner's over, this is dessert. I'm not signing the contract tomorrow."

He looked up sharply, his eyes showing hurt and she immediately realized how it must have sounded. She rushed to finish, “It's not enough. I need more, and I'm pretty sure you do, too."

His shoulders visibly relaxed, and she felt bad she'd hurt him for even a few seconds. “I'm sorry I said it like that, I should've worded it better."

He shook his head. “No, it's okay. You just caught me off guard. What did you want to add?"

"I have no idea; I only know it's not enough."

"I was planning to wait until tomorrow to raise this, but I've made some decisions. I intend to bring back the contractors, have them strip the other bathroom. I want everything out—toilet, vanity, shower, floor—all of it, gone. I'd like you to redo it, and the other closet, however you wish."

She tried to speak but he held up a hand and continued. “All of the fabrics and accessories in your bedroom can be transferred to the master suite here, and your armoire will replace mine. Other than saying no pink and no bright yellow, I'll leave the wall color entirely up to you. I'd prefer we keep the Frederick bed, but if you're attached to yours we can move it in and transfer mine elsewhere. Pick whatever room in the house you want for your office—with the exception of the playroom, my office, and my workshop—and do what you feel is necessary to make it yours."

Interrupting this time, whether he wanted her to or not, she said, “You're asking me to move in? Or telling me I'm going to?"

He smiled. “At this point, I'll beg if it'll make it happen."

Her stomach did a series of flip-flops, but she worked to keep her face composed. She took a bite of chocolate cake, shuddered at the richness. “I get the feeling you aren't done with your demands."

"Not by a long shot. I want to set a wedding date, a
tentative
wedding date, for one year from today, the anniversary of the first time we said we loved each other. We won't tell anyone, so there'll be no pressure. Six months from now we'll decide if it's what we want. If it is, we'll make the announcement and begin making plans. Do you want a big wedding or a small affair?"

She shook her head; he was going too fast. “I can't answer that."

"What
can
you answer? Will you move in with me?"

Yes. No. She had no idea. “Can I sleep on it?"

"Of course you can."

She let out a shaky breath. She loved him, and she didn't want to go home, but was she ready to move in? “I'm glad you asked today. I don't make major decisions without sleeping on them. If you'd waited until tomorrow, it would've been Monday before I'd given an answer."

He smirked. “In that case, maybe we need to renegotiate the contract today, so you can sign it tomorrow."

She reached for her wine glass and changed her mind—not after the cake. She took a long drink of water and looked at him, the knowledge of what she wanted hitting her like a fist and stealing her breath. He'd claimed her—heart, mind, body, and soul; and she fiercely wanted to belong to him.

"I still need to sleep on it, but...” She stopped, stood, and stepped to him, attempting a graceful drop to her knees beside his chair, but her legs were wobbly and she knew it had to show.

She folded her arms behind her back and looked up, her eyes meeting his. “I want to offer myself to you, twenty-four/seven, for everything except my finances and anything related to work.” She held his gaze and repeated, “Everything, Zach."

He turned sideways in his chair, shifted so she was between his legs, and gently touched her cheek with his hand.

"If you still want to give me this offer tomorrow, I'll accept it. If you change your mind, we'll figure out the boundaries needed for both of us to feel comfortable."

When Dana awakened the next day Zach wasn't in bed. She brushed her teeth and hair, surprised she'd slept until nine. They'd turned in around eleven o'clock, and she'd been asleep soon after—the night and day of sex having apparently worn her out more than she'd realized, even with all the naps.

She donned jeans and a short sleeved thin sweater and returned to the bathroom to apply some make-up before going in search of him, following the clacking sounds of the keyboard to his office, where he was furiously typing, still in his pajama bottoms, and shirtless.

Leaning against the doorframe, she watched, mesmerized as his fingers flew over the keys, his eyes on the screen. He'd occasionally pause and hit the backspace multiple times, as if he were thumping it into submission, then begin typing ninety miles a minute again.

He looked up, smiling as his eyes met hers. “You're up; I wanted to let you sleep in this morning to recover from yesterday. How do you feel?"

"Like a new person. How are you? How long have you been up?"

He shrugged. “Couple of hours. I have a proposition for you—how about we get dressed and go to Cracker Barrel for breakfast, then take my laptop and your tablet to a neutral spot so we can try to hammer out a contract. Somewhere public, so we'll finish it without getting otherwise occupied, but where no one can hear us."

She thought a moment, trying to think of a place close to Cracker Barrel that fit his terms. “We can take a blanket out to Heritage Park, find a nice shady spot. There's enough people running around we'll have to behave, but if we're over on the other side of the bocce court no one should hear our conversation."

"Perfect. Let me throw some clothes on and I'll be ready."

Less than an hour later they were looking through the tchotchkes at Cracker Barrel while waiting to be called, laughing over the toys, looking through a kid's book of science experiments together, smelling the candles.

When they were finally summoned to the dining room it was as noisy as ever, and Dana felt they could've talked about anything and not been heard.

"So, what were you busy typing on this morning?"

"I woke up thinking of your offer, and knowing some basic boundaries I'd want to put in place, and a number of rules. I was trying to organize my thoughts, so I can talk about it intelligently should you feel the same today. It's all up for negotiation at this point, of course, but..."

He trailed off, and she realized he wasn't sure her offer was still on the table. “I awakened more certain than when I went to sleep. I may want some additional exceptions above the two I mentioned—perhaps we should consider the contract a work in progress for a set amount of time, before we agree it's final—but I'm all for us hammering out an initial version today. I've never done this before, so you'll have to lead us through it."

He shook his head. “We'll figure it out as we go; we're equals until we've agreed to the power exchange and signed our names."

She couldn't argue with his logic so she switched to something that'd been bugging her. “I want this to work for both us of. You told me you weren't interested in micromanaging someone again, and it's not fair for me to ask for more than you want responsibility for."

"I
do
enjoy micromanaging during scenes; in fact, I think it might be a deal breaker, but luckily you seem to thrive on it in short bursts. I have a question for you, though. It sounds like you're offering me more than you gave..."

He trailed off, looking uncomfortable, so Dana finished for him. “Yes, I'm offering you more than I gave Garnet. But you're asking for more.” She paused, trying to put her thoughts and feelings into words. “It's not a competition. I'm a different woman now than I was when I was married to him, just as you're a different man than you were two or three years ago. Brent said I'd come through the fire and it'd transformed me. He's right; though I'm not sure I realized how much I'd changed until recently. I love you, Zach. I want to give myself to you. I want to belong to you."

He reached across the table for her hand, folding it into his warmth and her heart skipped as he said, “I love you, too. It feels good to finally be able to say it. I love you."

They were looking at each other all goofy-eyed when the server arrived with their food. They were both hungry, and neither spoke as they ate until Zach broke the silence with a conversation about the science book they'd looked through, and regaled her with stories of the crazy experiments he'd done as a child.

"Why did you suggest Heritage Park instead of Coolidge Park?” Zach was spreading their blanket out while Dana held his laptop bag and her purse.

"You said neutral ground, and I consider Coolidge Park as my front yard. Only, I don't have to mow it, and I have to share it with the rest of the city. Still, it's where I go to walk around, to read in the sunshine, or just chill out when I need fresh air. Tell me what you came up with this morning."

Zach smoothed the blanket's final corner and they got comfortable. “I think much of the original contract can remain as is when it comes to rules for scenes, but we need to start over concerning how we manage regular day-to-day living. I don't want you to have to say Sir all of the time, nor do I wish to control your bathroom privileges full time. When not in a scene you'll be able to eat and drink without permission, use the restroom, and choose your clothing. I'll have the authority to tell you what to wear, or eat, but unless I exercise my right it'll be your choice—the exception being your work clothes, which you'll have total control over."

He fiddled with the touchpad on his laptop, read a few seconds. “You'll have more autonomy when you have your work clothes on—we'll give you an hour after you come home to change, sooner if you want. While they're on, I can't demand sexual favors, and can't dole out punishment. If you do something deserving of correction during that time we'll make a note of it, but will handle it later."

She nodded slowly, thinking it through. “Yeah, I can see how that'll work. As romantic as twenty-four/seven sounds, I'll have my own life outside of our relationship. What else?"

"You've been responsible for all major decisions for a couple of years now. You've sold a home and several cars, bought a condo and a new car, invested your money after carefully studying your options... do you want us to decide the big stuff together, as a partnership, or do you want to hand all decisions over to me? Honestly, I'm good with it either way—we can resolve those things the way most couples do, or it can be part of our power exchange."

Dana didn't have to think very hard on this one. “Important decisions should be by mutual agreement, and, for now, my finances are my business."

He smiled. “Good, okay. Let's talk about the rules. These will be in force every second of every day, except for the few that'll be lifted while you've got your work clothes on."

She tried not to squirm as warmth suffused her body and made her clit ache for touch. She looked to see if the conversation was affecting Zach the same way, saw evidence it was, and smiled before raising her eyes to his. “I'm listening."

He grinned back. “I'm wishing we'd done this behind closed doors, but there's a reason we didn't.” He glanced at his laptop again. “You may respectfully ask questions and discuss concerns with me, but once I make a decision, there'll be no arguing about it."

"Hold up. What if it's something I consider a major decision?"

He stopped, as if he hadn't considered the possibility, but quickly recovered, saying, “We'll have to define what constitutes a major decision. Any ideas?"

"Something that'll matter to us a month later? No, that won't do it."

He sighed. “Do you think you'll eventually trust me to decide if it's a big deal or not? I understand your reticence this early in our relationship but...” He shook his head and started again with barely a pause. “How's this—if we disagree on everyday versus significant, we'll discuss it. If neither of us can convince the other to our side you'll have three vetoes a year."

"You're telling me you'll be fair, and I don't have to protect myself so much."

"I'm reminding you I'll be reasonable, and wishing you didn't feel you need to protect yourself."

"I'm sorry, you're right, this is about trust—about me wanting to give you control, not making you take it. Let's say the contract will be a work in progress for three months, nothing set in stone. That way I won't feel the need to try to cover all of my bases right off the bat. Does that work?"