No preamble today...I know everyone is eager for this chapter...
Ashlynn
The silence on the limo ride back to Calabasas is charged. Leed has thrown himself into the corner of the limo's curved seat. The thoughtful look playing on his face raises sweat on every inch of my skin, but I sit very still, focused on his face and the calm power pouring from him, feeding me assurance.
I block all thoughts but the Lion.
Finally, he breaks the silence with a heavy clearing of his throat. "Ashlynn."
I wait. He seems reluctant to say more.
"Ashlynn," he begins again. "I need to ask you something. And no matter what the answer, I love you and it's okay."
"Okaaaayyy..." I say very softly, breaking eye contact. I don't want him to ask me about Varrick again. I don't trust my response.
"While we were apart, at the party...did you take something? Is that why you want...punishment?"
I let out a sigh of relief. Is that all he wanted to ask me?
I climb onto my knees and move beside him, looking him dead in the face. "I did not take anything. But the whole scene was...making me uncomfortable in my own skin. I was watching a girl that was high, wondering if she had pills on her. Then, I saw the Ties That Bind Set," I place my hand on his thigh. "And I thought of the way you took me in the kitchen at my place......and the craving for oxy...just faded. I want you. Not drugs. Not anything, really, but you."
I run my hand up his thigh and he hisses, wrapping his large fingers around my wrist and pulling me into his lap, pressing his forehead to mine. "I want to be your man. I want to be everything you need. But I never want to hurt you. I don't think...I can."
I smile against his lips. "You won't hurt me. I know you won't. You'll just make me even more yours."
He groans and kisses me hungrily, demanding my tongue and lips the rest of the way home. When he finally pulls away, my lips are tender, swollen. I lick them, relishing the feeling of Leed's intensity, as he speaks to the driver, telling him to pass by Leed's neighborhood and continue on to unfamiliar address.
"Where?" I pant.
"Mac's place," he whispers, continuing an assault on my neck as his hands roam smoothly over my dress.
"Oh!" I giggle. "Good thinking." Mac's unit is a penthouse condo in one of the swankiest complexes in Calabasas, but the best part it...it's completely unoccupied at the moment. No babies, nannies, or dubious PA's.
As we enter the elevator, Leed punches the penthouse access code, then steps behind me, leaning against the wall, not touching me.
A heavy clearing of Leed's throat precedes the words, "You're sure you want it like this?"
My breath is coming sharply and I force myself to slow it. How can I be this turned on by the idea of Lead dominating me? Is there something wrong with me, that I'm wild at the idea of taking pleasure from inflicted pain? I fought this for so longâunable to merge the pleasure of sex and the high I get from submission, but with Leed, I can't deny my truth. Or his. I don't want to live on my knees for him, but his power begs to be unleashed, and every shadow of my soul whispers that I'm his. I want to be the only one he shows this side to.
But can we keep it as play? A scene, a role, encapsulated moments in time? Or will giving him my will tonight be a thing that can't be walked back in the light of day? Right now I feel like I'm on the edge of a dangerous but incredibly beautiful precipice. Just like the overhang we stood upon at Tallulah Gorge. Will I be able to keep my footing on the edge, or will I lose my balance and plunge into an oblivion there's no climbing out of?
I look at my feet, on the ground, and I have a terrible feeling that I'm falling, but my words don't match. "I'm sure."
A long pause.I hear the sound of his blazer moving against his neck and I know he's rolling his head, summoning his power, preparing to perform. A new role. A private performance for me, because I coaxed it.
More silence.
I feel a shift between us, before he even utters a command. He's fully in charge now.
The elevator door slides open into Mac's darkened foyer. I've been here beforeâit's a very clean space. White, black and grey furniture are arranged in artistic groups across the wide room, which is dominated by three large half-round windows, their black moldings in sharp contrast to the nearly-white walls and drapes. Floor sized canvases of messy, vivid, Pollack-like art draw the eye toward the far wallâthe art an emotional, jarring contrast to the monochrome decor. The whole place is very...Mac, pre-marriage. Disciplined and cool, with one messy, emotional soft spot.
It's also the perfect space for tonight. Because tonight is about control...and release.
Leed touches my back gently, his hand caressing.
"Your safeword is Tallulah."
He is thinking of the Gorge, too. In his touch, I feel it all again. The glass house where we merged with the limitless, starry Universe. The precipice we flung ourselves upon. The love. The peril.
"Tallulah," I repeat, acknowledging the word.
He directs me to the open kitchen and pulls out a barstool for me. I sit, placing my trembling hands on the counter. Leed stands behind me. He takes the flogger from his jacket and places it precisely in front of me. Then he flattens my fidgeting hands against the cool grey concrete.
"It's alright, Sunshine." His voice is rich, sure, soothing. "You've placed yourself in my hands, and I promise you, there's only heaven in front of us."
Beneath his hands, I flip mine upward and our fingers twine. "That's right, you can trust me," Leed murmurs, kissing my neck again. The feeling of his sucks and licks makes me shiver against his heat at my back. "I never mark a woman unintentionally, but this is about to get very intentional. You're mine, and I'm entitled, yes?"
"Okay," I murmur softly.
"You're going to need a good concealer, come tomorrow," he warns. He pauses in his kisses.
He's so sweet. He's giving me a chance to safeword, before we even start.
I tilt my head to yield my throat, and the quick bite he gives me is exquisite. Not a lion's ferocious bite, but the dominating nip the King of Beasts would give his Queen. The shock of it floods me with endorphins. I sigh through the soft sucking that soothes my skin for a long time after.
Suddenly, his attentions are gone, and I open my eyes, confused and slightly unsteadied by the lack of pressure at my back. I put a hand over the throbbing side of my neck, watching him rounding the bar. I pout at his back as he completely ignores me. He chooses a tall glass from an open shelf, examines it critically, rinses and dries the outside thoroughly. He fills it from the water cooler.
He slides it in front of me. "Drink."
I take a sip.
"All of it." It's not an arbitrary command; he's making sure I stay hydrated so I don't get a headache. Only Leed would give Dom aftercare beforehand. I obey.
When I put the glass down, he smiles. "Thank you." His grin turns wicked as he picks up the flogger and leans over the bar. He paints the crevice of my cleavage with the soft fronds, but it's his voice that drives me wild, when he says. "What am I going to do with you, huh? You are such a contradiction, Sunshine. A very good girl with a very bad streak."
"What do you want to do with me?" I'm surprised by the deep purr of my own voice.
He sucks on his own wicked grin and tucks the flogger in his back pocket.
"Come," he tilts his head toward Mac's bedroom and holds out a hand.
I slide off the stool, but I hesitate. "Mac's bedroom? Are you sure that's...okay?"
His face goes dark and scowly. He advances on me, turning my chin up to him. "Who's in charge here?"
I bite back my smile. "You are."
He inspects my expression and I try to straighten out my smile, but I can't. Leed is so handsome right now as he says, "Mmmmmmm, I don't think you really believe that, do you, Sunshine?"
"I do," I protest.
"Nope, you think this is all your game, and I'm just playing along." He grabs me by the waist, pulling me to him. My hands go his chest. I'm sure I'm only imagining it, but Leed feels...harder, somehow. Like he's made of marble.
"I think you need a little lesson in consequences for questioning me," he smirks, his eyes glittering.
My heart is pounding wildly. My eyes flick unconsciously to the whip in his hand. He chuckles, putting a thumb to the side of my throat, feeling my pulse beating out of control. "You would like that consequence, wouldn't you?"
"Yes," I say softly.
"Which is why it isn't a very good correction for questioning me, is it?"
"No," I admit.
He releases me. "Go get your phone, please."
The please makes me smile. Leed is the world's politest Dom. It's on the tip of my tongue to ask why I need my phone, but as my mouth opens, his eyebrows shoot up, and I close it carefully, spinning on my heels to retrieve my clutch. I hold my phone out to him and he crosses his arms and smirks at me.
"Call my sister."
"Nooooo," I whisper in horror.
"What?" His voice is sharp.
I wince. "I meant...please, don't make me call her."
He licks his lips. "Do you want to play, Ashlynn? Because so far, you're being a very disobedient girl."
I put my hands over my face, laughing abruptly. My emotions are all over the place. Oh god, I suck at this. Leed is so hot and aggressive and I'm messing it all up, because I don't actually fear him, and we don't actually have this kind of dynamic.
"Ashlynn...I can see that despite the fact this was your idea, you're a little bit nervous. Which is why I'm being patient. But this is the very last bit of leniency I'm going to show you. Dial my sister. Now. Otherwise, it's game over." His voice has a deadly warning tone. Good god, is he serious?
I don't want the game to be over, I need the game right now, because without the game...I'm dangerously close to having a frickin' breakdown and admitting the truth to Leed. I blow out a long breath and stab at Mac's tiny face on my favorites widget. She answers on the third ring.
"Hi Sis," she sing-songs. I roll my eyes. That's her latest joke...teasing me that it's only a matter of time before we are sisters-in-law. She completely dismisses Leed's very real and very present objections to the institution of marriage. And the fact that we've been officially dating for only a month.
"Hi," I croak.
"Speakerphone," Leed murmurs and I press the button just as Mac catches my nervous tone.
"Everything ok?" she says carefully.
"Fine," I say brightly. "I'm here with Leed. You're on speakerphone."
"Hey Macaroni. How's my little Cheese?"
"She's great. But right now she's asleep and I was just about to take a bath..." Mac hints.
"Ask her." Leed says with a completely level tone.
I stomp my foot. "Really?"
He shrugs coolly. "Fine. Say the word, and we can go home." He means the safe word. I narrow my eyes at him. He thinks I'm that much of a wimp? Really?
"Ask me what?"
I close my eyes. "Do you mind if we use your apartment for sex?"
There's silence on the other end. Then a peal of devilish laughter. Then she calls Adam to the phone to tell him what I just said. She puts him on speakerphone while he laughs. Then Leed laughs.
"Is that a yes or what the fuck?" I growl.
Now Mac is laughing so hard she can't speak. "It's fine," Adam says. "Bodie used it all the time, after Mac moved in with Leed."
Mac finally collects herself. "Just leave a note on the counter for the maid to change the sheets..." she dissolves into laughter again. "Oh god, I needed a laugh. But I'm also kind of jealous of your date night. Where have you guys been that you want to keep the party going?"
"The Vision Video party," Leed says.
"Oooooohhhhh, was it fun? How did the Ties That Bind Set look?"
"Nothing like I remember. It seemed...ugly," Leed says, and I study his face, wondering why.
"Not surprising. That was a shit day," Adam says quietly.
"It was, but I'm okay now," Mac says lightly. "And we all agreed, we wouldn't taint our award winning video by mixing it with what happened after, right?"
"Right," Leed says grimly. That's when I realize what I had forgotten. That Mac's assault was the day that Soundcrush shot The Ties That Bind Video. They went to some gig to celebrate the wrap, and she and Adam were fighting, and she picked up the guy that choked her. And Leed nearly killed him for it.
Leed's eyes are unfocused in the distance, remembering. I curse myself softly. He's seeing memories, reliving the pain, but I'm seeing the present clearly, now. I'm asking him to discipline me, but I'm the one inflicting pain on him.
"Hey," Mac says softly. "Leed?"
"Right. You're right, Macaroni," Leed's voice is sweet, lovingâhis natural tone. "Give my baby girl a kiss, okay?"
"Sure."
"Mac...I'm sorry we interrupted your free time. We'll let you get back to your bath, okay?"
"Thanks. You two...have fun." She sounds a little sad, like she's sorry she brought the video up.
"We will," I say softly.
I toss the phone. Leed's eyes wander back to me.
"Can't believe you actually did that, Sunshine," he says, a little grimly. Then he rolls his neck and I know, he's preparing to slip back into the Dom role. And that's all it is. A role. Leed is a frontman for a rock band, but his degree is in theater. He's an actor, a chameleon at heart. He's many things, but he's no Dom, nor sadist. And I'm no sub to him.
"Tallulah," I say softly and cross the floor to him, wrapping my arms tight around him, putting my face against his heart. Tears rise and spill all at once. The sobs, I'm still holding back.
"Thank fuck," he whispers and pulls the flogger from his pocket, tossing it behind the couch.
"I'm sorry," I murmur into his Nirvana t-shirt. "I'm sorry I asked you...for this. I didn't think about Mac...or that guy, or what happened after.I didn't think about how it would make you feel..."
"You don't have to be sorry," Leed says. "I...I didn't know how I would feel, either. I thought...maybe...maybe I could get into it. If it's what you need..." He searches my face for an answer.
I shake my head so hard I heavy curls bat my face. "I...I don't think I need it. I mean... definitely not as a lifestyle. I don't...I don't miss being a sub. Hell, I didn't even like it, not when the control got...real. But the discipline...it numbs me, you know? And...I...needed not to feel, tonight." Needed. Past tense. Seeing Leed, conflicted and confused by the painful memories my behavior has dredged up. makes my cravings and fears seem like a distant past life. I don't ever want that horrible false life, that girl that wasn't me, to hurt usâhurt Leed.
Leed is wiping my tears with his thumbs. "Why did you need to feel numb, Ashlynn?"
"I told you..." I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling my face against his throat, to hide it. He rubs my back gently.
"You told me you were craving drugs. That didn't just happen because you saw some chic high on oxy."
"No." The word is no more than a broken sob.
Leed's body is hard again. Not smooth like marble this time. Rigid like steel.
"He was there." It's a statement not a question. "Who? Christ, Ashlynn...don't make me get the fucking guest list and go through every W on itâ"
"No, he was not there," I say quickly. "It was...it was... the set. Seeing the restraints, the tools. It...took me by surprise. I felt afraid... and so...ashamed." That last part is not a lie, at least. I feel very ashamed. Of the girl I was, and the girl I am right this minute. But I love Leed too much to risk what might happen if I tell him the truth.
He tilts my chin up, but my eyes are too blurred with tears and my sobs coming stronger now. It's not an act, the tears are born of confusion and regret for this whole mess, but thankfully, Leed doesn't press me. He looks at me with such tenderness, I sob harder, just for the love of this man.
He draws me down on the couch, in his lap. "I don't get it, baby. Help me understand why you wanted to go back to discipline, if it makes you afraid and ashamed."
"I don't know," I mumble, wiping tears.
"Do I need to get Marley on the line to call professional bullshit on that?" he says lightly. "Try again, baby."
I sniffle a little into his chest and he lets me have a long moment to compose my response. "You are...aggressive. And powerful. And I like it. It makes me feel safe. It's like, you are overwriting my negative experiences. I just needed...to feel...really safe, tonight. And if I can give you all the control and still feel safe...then..." I trail off, at a loss
"I see. Giving up your will is like giving up your shame. Like shining light on your fear."
I nod again, holding onto him tighter, amazed at the way he understands, the way he can make what's so confusing to me seem so simple with his words. He wraps his arms around me, pulling the side of my head to his lips, combing his fingers through my curls.
"I want to do that for you, baby. I want to love your slate completely clean, until there is nothing but me and you and our amazing vibe. But that vibe is not...hardcore. Not at all. Sometimes it's tender, and sometimes it's passionate...and maybe sometimes it's primal..." he curls a hand at my throat which is bruised from the love bite he put there, and slides his other hand over my butt, "a little rough, a little biting, a little spanking, whateverâ but it's always about having a real connection with you. I don't want to tie you up and blindfold you and hit you with things to send you out of your head and into subspace. That's disconnection, baby. I feel like..." he sighs and cradles me closer, dropping his lips to my ear. "I feel like, between us, that's not love. I feel like...that's an addiction behavior."
His words are so soft, but they still sting. Because he's right, and the truth hurts. Battling addiction is an exhaustive wildfire fight. When I conquer one blaze, another bursts out so bright it blinds me. And none of it is because of my accident. I used to be addicted to approval, overthinking, my calendar, my five year plan, my vision of a life with Cam. Trace was always right; I was a hot mess in the opposite direction. Then my accident happened I couldn't handle the pain meds. My accident didn't cause my addictive brain, it just exposed me to pain medication that became my susceptible brain's best friend. The oblivion of physical discipline might have become my next addiction, if he wasn't a complete psychopath that always tried to inflict maximum emotional pain along with it.
Now I thought I had conquered my addictions, and I have Leedâcompletely wonderful and wise and passionate Leedâbut I'm still running away from my problems and chasing after things that aren't good for me.
"You're right," I choke out between sobs. "I'm still an addict, I'll never stop being an addictâ"
He winces and rocks me. "Don't call yourself that. You are so much more than your addiction problems, okay? You're a beautiful, graceful, loving woman. You're a good daughter, a wonderful sister, an amazing caretaker. A yogi. A light worker. You're my best friend and my best girl. I would fucking deck anyone else that labeled you because of a disease you fight every day, so I'm not going to let you call yourself that, either. You've had a bad day, and your brain is working against you right now, that's all. But I love you too much not to be honest with you about this."
He loves me too much not to be honest. The realization that I'm lying to him in this very momentâlying by omissionâbrings a new wave of hurt, pouring into torrents of tears.
"Don't cry. It's okay, baby. It's all going to be okay. You just had a bad day, that's all. You're okay."
I cry harder, because he has no idea how bad my day really was, and I'm trapped in my lie. It's not fear for myself that clamps my jaw tight. It's fear for Leed. I remember what Trace told me about Mac's assault.
I am not exaggerating at all when I say I think he would have ended that guy, if we hadn't stopped it.
Leed's ferocity...I can imagine it would only be about ten times worse, over you.
Leed could never live with the truth and not act. And if he did act...everything Soundcrush has built would...just...disappear.
No. The cost is too high. I can't tell him. But it doesn't mean I have to come undone, just because of one encounter with Varrick. How many times has he appeared from nowhere to make me feel trapped? So many times, but this time is different. All those times I was desperate and he wanted me back. Now, he just wants my silence. Now, I'm healthy. I'm strong. I have my family again. I have Leed.
I have no idea how long I've been crying, but it's been awhile. Leed is still making soft, meaningless murmurings that mean everything. I force myself to concentrate on his assurances and I echo them to myself like a mantra until I start to believe them.
It's okay. Just a bad day. I'm okay.
Somewhere after about a hundred repetitions, I've stopped sobbing, and I can concentrate on my breathing. I wipe my eyes. Leed, sensing the storm is passing, pats my back, like he's encouraging me to move. "Let me get you some water..." he murmurs.
I shake my head and hold onto him tighter. "Sing to me," I whisper.
He shifts us so that he's in the corner of the couch and I'm sitting between his legs. "What do you want me to sing?"
"I don't care. Just...sing me happy."
He drapes one arm around my front, clinging to my shoulder as he scrolls his music app. "Okay, I think this one is nice. And happy. But I need a backing track, because it's not something I've ever really sung..."
The jaunty acoustic opening of Rob Thomas' Hold on Forever floats out softly at a low volume. Leed sings it as surely and smoothly as if he'd practiced it a hundred times. He rocks me softly back and forth, crooning to me over my shoulder. Next he sings Bruno Mars' You Can Count On Me.
When he finishes that, he kisses behind my ear. "Happy yet?"
I lean back against him. "Hmmmmm...almost."
He chuckles and thumbs his phone. "This one is on my Learn-to-Play-for-Ashlynn Playlist, but I'll give you a preview..."
"What? You're kidding."Â A lazy orchestral strain softly opens the song.
He holds his phone in front of me, showing me that he has a playlist entitled exactly that. I twist to exclaim how sweet that is, but he puts a finger to my lips and begins crooning A Beautiful Mess by Jason Mraz. This time, I watch his face, inches from mine.
Leed serenading me is the best comfort I've ever known. Watching his blissful expressions as he closes his eyes every few moments, listening to his pitch rise and fall and his words sharpen and fade, nothing else seems to matter but his song. His gorgeous, effortless rhythm washes me of worry. His ease replaces it. When he finishes this very beautiful, imperfect love song, I press kisses all across his mouth, his jaw, to his ear.
"Happy now?"
"Surprisingly so. Thank you for singing to me." I lay my head on his shoulder.
I must have fallen deeply asleep, because the next thing I know, Leed is lifting me out of an unfamiliar car and carrying me into his house. He helps me take off my long suede boots and pulls off my dress. We fall into bed, both exhausted by the long night.
I'm too tired to make anymore apologies or thanks for his loving care. Leed pulls my back to his chest like always. As I'm drifting off, he murmurs, "I think if we stick together, you and me...we could make a beautiful mess. A really big, really beautiful mess."
I drift to sleep and dream of the abstract paintings in Mac's condo. I'm standing before them and I begin to realize that each has a nearly obscured scene beneath the messy overlay of splatters. Without knowing how, I know that I belong in one of those scenes. All I have to do is step in and it will become my world. I know that if I cross the plane of the painting, there will be no turning back. I try very hard to see the scenes beneath the splatters, but all I can make out are vague shapes. One looks like a house with people in front of it. One is a lone figure, holding out his hand. I study the shapes for a long time, but I can't tell if Leed is the tall figure in front of the house, or the lone figure in the other painting. I can't escape the thought that the lone figure might be him. But it also fills me with dread to think the tall man in front of the house might not be Leed.
I can't choose. The scenes start to fade, and in a panic, I realize time to choose my place is running out. I leap.
I sit up abruptly, jolted awake from the horror of the wrong choice I made. My pulse is hammering. Painful staccato echoes throb through the front of my brain. The throbs grow louder and louder and closer together until the pain is a sound...an unrelenting shuddering like a freight train.
Okay, you may recall from that I said this chapter would be a sex scene. Obviously it didn't turn out that way. In my original chapter plan, the sex scene was planned to get underway before Ashlynn safeworded and fell apart, but after some soul-searching, I just didn't feel Leed going much farther into the BDSM play with her. His instinct is usually pretty strong, and I felt like he would read her distress and I don't think he would ever be so irresponsible as to administer discipline to her when she is in a vulnerable emotional state. Plus, I just don't think it's in him. Because of what happened to Mac, and also, because Leed is more genuine than that. I'm sure he could "get into character" but I doubt he would enjoy it very much, and I don't think he would lay that kind of mojo down with Ashlynn if it wasn't working for both of them. Ultimately Ashlynn read his reluctance and safeworded for his sake and the health of their relationship, not for her personal safety. So there you have it. Despite Leed's obvious power and dominance, and despite Ashlynn's submissive tendencies, Lash is not "shady." They are straight up in storybook love.
But, Ashlynn is in a very bad place. A dark hour.  The stress of everything she's been juggling is catching up with her. How intense do you think her headache will be? How will she cope? How will Leed react to seeing her "infirm" for the first time?