“What kind?”
She looked down at the blanket she had pulled over her lap for her nap, pinching the fabric between her fingers. “A sober one. One where I wasn’t numb.”
He took a breath. “Oh.” Oh.
She glanced over at him quickly, gauging his reaction, which he hopefully masked well enough, then went back to fiddling with the blanket. “I’ve lived a fucked-up life, Wyatt. Partially because of the hand I was dealt, but mostly because of me and a string of bad decisions after I turned sixteen and started dating a guy who wouldn’t take me to prom but was happy to take me on my first bender. Yes, I know the assault wasn’t my fault. But even before that, I wasn’t a stable person. If you knew even half of what I’ve done, what I’ve allowed to be done to me . . . well, you probably wouldn’t want to talk to me much less touch me.”
He shook his head. The words sounded eerily similar to the ones she’d said her captor had tortured her with. You’re dirty. Worthless. Untouchable. “Kelsey—”
“But sex to me has always been like another drug thrown into the mix—a way to not feel, to get lost, a way to manipulate. An easy escape.”
He wanted to reach out and brush her hair away from her face, to take some of that shame from her expression, to comfort her, but he sensed she’d only slam the door in his face.
“So I don’t know how to handle this . . . or you. I’ve been clean for a year and celibate during that time until last night. And I thought I could add sex back in without an issue. Obviously, I’m not going to live without it for the rest of my life. But I didn’t realize how different doing this sober would be. Submitting to you rips me open. That’s why all those things bubbled up last night. I don’t know how to deal with all that feeling.” She turned toward him. “I thought I was handling it, but when you said what you did this morning, it gave me this rush of confusing emotions. I don’t want to feel things for you, Wyatt. It scares the fuck out of me. It makes me want to run.”
He reached out this time, cupping the side of her face, trying to offer her comfort even though a clammy feeling had locked around his gut. He was happy Kelsey was opening up to him about her past. That showed that even their brief encounters had built some layer of trust there, had peeled back that veneer that shouldn’t be present between dominant and submissive. But what she was revealing was so trauma-laden, so rife with open wounds. And it began to feel far too familiar. He could sense his own psyche going into duck-and-cover mode. He couldn’t let her get attached to him—even unintentionally.
He’d made Kelsey promise when they came to this agreement that she wouldn’t let him hurt her. It’d been his only condition. And whether she knew it or not, this was her keeping her promise, ringing the warning bells. Maybe nothing had changed with him over the years. Maybe staying away from this side of himself had been a necessary move. Because in under twenty-four hours, he was already putting another woman at risk.
For the last week, he’d allowed himself to entertain the notion that maybe his situation with Mia had been an anomaly, maybe his dominance hadn’t pushed her off the ledge. But here he was again, tearing things open and leaving a woman vulnerable to her own dangerous demons.
“Thank you for being open with me,” he said, forcing the words to come out steady and not like they were splitting him in two. He lowered his hand to his side. “And I refuse to put you at risk any longer.”
Her gaze snapped upward to meet his, but he was already turning away and grabbing his briefcase from under the seat. He set his laptop aside and pulled what he needed from his bag, then started to write.
“What are you doing?” Kelsey asked, concern lacing her voice.
He didn’t look up, just continued scribbling, doing what he should have done in the first place even though it was digging out a huge hole in his chest. When he was done, he tore the little rectangle of paper from the book, sealed it in an envelope, and handed it to Kelsey. “This is my last command for you, love. I don’t want you selling yourself in order to go to school and start the life you deserve. If you want to be a dominant or a trainer, do that. But do it on your own terms, not for a paycheck. And I don’t want you submitting to me when it’s only hurting you.”
Her eyes went round. “Wyatt—”
“That check will give you what you need with no strings attached. It’s not payment for being here; it’s not money for what we’ve already done. It’s a gift.”
She looked down at the envelope, not opening it, but knowing very well a check lay inside. “Wyatt, I can’t . . . No . . .”
He straightened his suit jacket, trying to shake off the hollow feeling letting her go was giving him. “I’ve spent far more money on far less important things. I want to give you your freedom. Without obligation, without rules, without ramifications.”
“I should’ve never told you about my past.” Her eyes went glassy as she gripped the envelope in her hand. And he knew she was fighting with herself. Kelsey was nothing if not prideful, and handouts weren’t her style. But she also wasn’t stupid.
They both knew that check meant she’d never have to get on her knees for anyone—literally or figuratively.
“Now that you know, you don’t want to touch me either,” she whispered.
He looked up sharply, the words like razors burrowing into his chest. “You listen to me,” he said, his words angry, measured. “I’ve never wanted to touch anyone so much in my life, Kelsey. Don’t take that sick fuck’s words and put them in my mouth. That’s not fair to me or you. But regardless of how much I want you, I refuse to risk your well-being.”
“I can’t take the money,” she murmured, her fingers tight around the envelope.
“You will. And if you try to hand that check back to me, I’ll find out your account number and deposit it anyway. So don’t try it.”
She shook her head, some mixture of stunned awareness and heartbreak on her face. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I wasn’t trying to get out of our agreement. I only wanted to explain why I was such a head case this morning.”
He leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “I don’t want to be the person to make you feel that way. No matter how much I’ve enjoyed being with you, dominating you, your emotional health and stability aren’t things I’m willing to put in jeopardy. When we land on the island, I’ll send you back to Dallas on the jet.”
“The hell you will,” she said in a choked retort.
He opened his eyes to find her glaring at him—the wounded girl replaced by the determined woman. “If you think I’m going to bail on my promise to help you just because I got a little freaked out, you don’t know me very well.”
“Kelsey.”