“Then who is he?”
She pauses to really consider my question. “He’s a complicated man, one I haven’t completely figured out yet. He’s not a Dominant in the sense where he needs a submissive woman to fulfill him. He likes to hold the power but it’s a natural thing for him, more than it’s something he practices for a sexual fantasy.” She waits for the employee cleaning the table across from ours to leave before adding, “In regard to kink, I’d say he lingers on the lighter side. So, no, you don’t have to worry about cattle prods.”
“Dog cages?” I inquire.
“No.”
“Beatings?”
“No.”
“Blood?”
She laughs, shaking her head at me. “You’re safe. He’s what we like to call a Gentleman Dom.”
“Which is?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. A perfect gentleman who has dominant traits, which is what Micah is. He’s gentle when you need that from him, but he’s rough, more controlling, more dominant, when he needs that for himself.”
I consider what she’s told me, stirring my straw in a large circle within the plastic cup. Something doesn’t add up. “Explain this to me, then: if he’s not into something more extreme, then why is he so worried about this getting out?”
“That’s been something I’ve wondered myself,” Juliet explains, her hands hugging her mug. “His desires aren’t as dark as he believes them to be. I think that somewhere along the line things got confused for him. His desires are something he runs from and something he fights. The only time we were together was when it became too much to bear and he needed to calm this thing he fights inside of him.”
“You’re saying that kinky sex isn’t fun for him?” I ask, confused. “Like, he hates it?”
She nods slowly. “I’ve seen the look in his eyes after. It’s not something he?
??s proud of. It’s not something he enjoys, but it’s definitely something he needs, and that’s what he is aware of.”
I frown. “If he doesn’t like kink, then why would he need to keep doing it?”
“Why does anyone need anything?” she asks with a soft laugh. “It’s simply a part of who he is, what his body wants, and what his soul craves.”
I’m not sure why that registers so intensely with me, but it does. Maybe it’s a new way of seeing Micah or maybe I’m simply accepting him now. But Juliet’s words make me realize that this is yet another thing that Micah hasn’t been able to accept about himself, because people he loved told him he couldn’t. “What else do you think his soul craves?”
“You.” She gives me a soft smile, and her affection for Micah warms her expression. “But I don’t think his soul simply craves you, I think you’re precisely what his soul needs, Allie.”
Chapter 19
Allie
Please come to the carnival.
No emails. No texts. Micah didn’t call all day yesterday…until now, the following evening, nearly thirty-three hours after Darius gave him my donation to Holt’s Hope. God, I wanted to call him or go see him in his office all day today. But I couldn’t do this for him. I wouldn’t. He had to pick us.
I park my car in the open spot next to rows of cars near the entrance, trying to decrypt his message. Yes, I expected my note would affect him, especially the don’t make me wait too long, because that’s what his note once said to me. He fought for me. Now I was fighting for him. I hoped that sparked something inside of him, showing him I’m not the same person as Clara. But the carnival is the last place I thought he’d request my attendance.
My heart begins banging against the walls of my chest when I exit the car and hurry through the main gate, noticing an empty ticket booth. I need to get to him. It’s an energy pulling me forward. Almost like a part of myself is missing and I’ve got to find it or I’m going to fall down the rabbit hole and be lost forever.
The sun is beginning to set, the sky turning beautiful pinks, purples, and oranges, and I’m searching for the man on my mind, heading down the pathway toward the carnival. Loud young voices and laughter carry across the night air. The carnival is bustling and the crowd of children and grown-ups are rushing by me in a blur, until I finally recognize someone.
Liv’s standing near the ring toss, with a huge grin on her face. “Well, look at who’s finally arrived,” she drawls when I reach her.
“What’s going on?” I scan the crowd, recognizing other people now, too. Employees from Holt are here, as well as some of the children I’d met at Holt’s Day. Nose scrunching, I turn to her. “What is this?”
“This,” says Liv, waving out at the carnival, “is what your donation to Holt’s Hope did. Micah bought out the carnival for the night, and in your honor opened it to Holt employees and their families, as well as the kids in his charity.” She gestures toward the photographers moving around the crowd and taking shots. “Expect to be mentioned in every magazine tomorrow.”
“A good reason to be in the tabloids,” I decide, instantly realizing what Micah’s done. My secret is exposed, yes. But it’s exposed in the best possible light. He’s showing the world something I love, and somehow that makes me love it more. “A perfect reason, actually,” I finish.