Chapter 13
13
D ammit, why didn’t I cancel?
I scurry around my living room, tossing things into a laundry hamper and narrowly avoiding tripping over a cluster of pillows that have fallen off the couch. There are piles of things strewn throughout my entire downstairs, which seems like a perfectly logical way to keep my house organized until someone is coming over and I realize how chaotic and messy it will look.
Bending over and picking things up makes my neck send out angry twinges of pain. It’s been extra pissed at me since my failure of a foray into BDSM last night. It was already not great, but the stress really brought it up a notch.
It’s incredibly frustrating how my body converts my emotion into physical pain. My muscles tense when I’m upset, and that means more problems with my spine. Sometimes it feels like an unbreakable cycle. I’m in pain, which makes me unhappy and stressed, which causes more pain.
It sucks to feel like I can’t let myself get upset or fully feel my emotions, because my body will punish me for it. I tried telling a therapist that once and she acted like I was being overdramatic. Needless to say, I didn’t go back after that.
A knock on the door startles me, and I almost drop the basket in my arms. My body tenses as I catch it and my neck screams in protest. I shove the basket in the closet under the stairs and curse as I rush to answer the door.
Blair greets me on the other side, the perfect, polished foil to my bedraggled self. Her flawless brown skin looks warm and luminous under my dim porch light, while I’m sure it gives me a ghoulish pallor. Her hair and makeup are as pristine as ever, and I look like I just rolled out of bed with my tangled bun and splotchy skin. She looks way too nice to be coming over for a night of sitting on my couch.
“Hey!” I say, a little breathless from hurrying.
“Hey.”
“Were you out earlier?” I ask.
She blinks back at me. “No. Why?”
I gesture at her perfectly tailored black jeans that hug the flare of her hips, and the lacy black top that shows off a sliver of her toned stomach and the line of her cleavage. She’s in full sexy goth goddess mode. “You look ready to go out on a date.”
She frowns, looking down at her outfit in concern. “I can go home and change.” It’s not a joke.
Crap, I’m making her uncomfortable and she hasn’t even gotten in the door .
“What? No! It’s not your fault you look gorgeous, while I’m a frumpy mess with a yogurt stain on my leggings.”
“I wouldn’t have noticed the yogurt if you hadn’t pointed it out,” she says. She doesn’t deny that I’m frumpy or a mess, which somehow sets me at ease.
Who cares if I’m a mess? She’s my friend and friends don’t give a shit about that kind of thing.
I step back and hold the door open for her, but she doesn’t follow me. It takes me a second to process why. “Oh shit, sorry! Come in.”
She follows with a slight twist of her lips at my flustered invitation.
“I still can’t believe that of all the vampire lore that’s out there, not being able to enter a home without permission is one of the real things,” I chuckle.
“Me either. It’s annoying, but I’d rather deal with having to be polite than worry that some religious nut is going to melt my skin off with holy water. I had enough of my parents trying to cleanse me of my sinful nature when I was alive.”
I grimace. “Ooof, yeah.”
“Sorry, that was dark.”
“No! I mean, it was, but I like knowing more about you. You can talk to me about anything.” Blair has mentioned her terrible family before, but I wasn’t sure if she’d want me to ask follow-up questions. She’s hard to read and I don’t want to be a dick.
She lets out a wry chuckle. “I’m not sure you’d feel that way if I told you all my secrets.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Try me.” Blair thinks she’s so scary, but I don’t buy it. Yeah, she’s a vampire, but she’s not a mindless monster. She tries to hide it, but she’s a gooey marshmallow at her core .
Blair rolls her eyes at me. “Let me get in the door before you start pestering me for my life story.” She holds out a canvas bag to me. “Here. Brought you some snacks.”
I’m sure my eyes light up with glee when I look in the bag. It’s filled with every single kind of candy bar they sell at the grocery store, plus a bunch of different bags of gummy candies. She’s so silly and sweet.
“Hell yeah!” I pull out a chocolate bar and rip it open, and take a bite. “Fmhank you,” I say, mouth still half full of chocolate. I flush when I notice she’s staring at my mouth in horror, and swallow quickly, giving a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, I’m being rude.”
She blinks and the intensity she was looking at me with vanishes. “Don’t apologize. I got it for you to enjoy.”
“Obviously I do,” I laugh, smiling and hoping I don’t have chocolate on my lips. “Do you miss it?”
“Eating?”
I shake my head. “I mean, yeah, but I’m talking about candy specifically. It’s what you always bring when we hang out.”
“Oh.” I don’t think she’s going to say anything else, but then Blair smiles slightly. “My parents never let me have it. When I moved out, I went through a phase where I’d eat candy after every meal, as my personal fuck you to their bullshit. I actually got sick of it after that, but I still think of it as one of my favorite foods from when I was alive.”
“That’s…”
“Pathetic?” She finishes for me.
I shake my head adamantly. “No! I love what it means to you. Makes it special. Like you’re bringing me little pieces of sin and rebellion, wrapped up in a tidy package. What could be better than that? ”
Blair laughs, a full throated, husky sound that brings me as much joy as the chocolate does. “Exactly.”
I set the bag of candy down on my kitchen table, grabbing a few things to bring with me to the couch. “I always feel like a terrible host,” I say as I settle in on the couch while she slides into the armchair across from me. “I can’t even offer you something to drink.”
Her eyes drop to my neck and my pulse suddenly won’t stop thundering in my ears. God, I always have to make things weird. She swallows and gives me a calm smile. “Don’t worry about it. I had something before I came over.”
“Something or someone?” I ask, waggling my eyebrows.
Blair snorts. “You really want to know?”
“Of course I do! Tell me. Was it one of your clients?” I don’t know why I care, but suddenly finding out where Blair got her blood is of the utmost importance.
She shakes her head. “Most of my clients don’t know I’m a vampire.”
“Oh right. Hmm… someone you met at The Vault?”
Blair shakes her head again, and I furrow my brow. “Someone you’re dating? Do you have a secret boyfriend?”
A startled laugh bursts out of Blair. “No.” She pauses and gives me a bemused look. “Grace, you know I’m a lesbian, right?”
“Wait, really?” My reply comes out embarrassingly high pitched, but it’s only from surprise. “I thought Mona said that most of the submissives you work with are men, so I assumed you were bisexual.”
“The key word there being ‘work’.” Blair narrows her eyes at me a little. “Is me being a lesbian a problem?”
“What? No!” I sputter. “That doesn’t matter at all to me. Besides, men suck, so I get it.”
Blair’s lips twitch. “But not as much as I do, right?”
“What?” Where is that coming from? “You don’t suck at all!”
“Yes, I do. Because I’m a vampire—nevermind.” Blair shakes her head dismissively.
I erupt with laughter. “Blair, was that… a dad joke?”
She smiles back at me, even though she looks like she’s trying to fight it. “Forget it.”
I grin back at her. “Fine. But you have to tell me where you got the blood.”
“I got it from a bag in my fridge. There are suppliers that ethically source blood for vampires.”
“Ah, right.” I don’t know why I continue, but maybe it’s because I can’t help pressing now that she’s relaxed. “That must be expensive. Probably not as good as from the source, either. Do you ever…”
“Bite people?” Blair finishes for me. “On occasion. Consensually.”
“Oh! Cool.”
“Is there a reason you care so much about my eating habits?” She asks the question evenly, but there’s a flicker of concern in her expression. “I’m not going to bite you. I’m in control of myself. You don’t have to worry.”
Something in the way she says that makes me think she’s reassuring herself as well.
I wave a hand at her dismissively. “I’m not worried! I was thinking that now that I know you feed from people, I have the potential not to be a terrible host when you visit.”
Blair narrows her eyes at me. “Grace. You can’t pick people up at the grocery store and have them sitting here for me to feed from.”
I laugh so hard at the visual that she gets caught up in it, too. Warm pleasure suffuses me at the sound of her laughter. I love making Blair happy .
“I like the way you think, but no. No human buffet. I meant me!” I gesture down at myself with a flourish. “I have blood. As long as it doesn’t hurt too much, I can give you some of mine in exchange for all that sweet, sweet candy.”
I know I’m being silly, but Blair always seems worried that I’m going to be frightened by her nature. If I don’t treat it as something momentous, if we talk about it out in the open, then maybe she’ll see that I’m not afraid. She’ll realize that I trust her a lot more than most people I’ve met.
If the idea of Blair biting me happens to make my stomach do a flip of nervous excitement, that’s just a bonus.
“Grace…”
“What? It’s not a big deal! You can do it now if you want. Just maybe not the neck, because I’m having a hard time turning my head without pain.”
Blair stiffens, and I wonder if I’ve made some kind of vampire faux pas offering her my blood. All of my amusement drains as her singular focus bores into me.
“You’re in that much pain?” she finally asks after what feels like an eternity passes.
That’s not at all what I was expecting. “Uh, yeah. It’s pretty bad after last night,” I say with an awkward chuckle.
Blair’s nostrils flare and the deadly look that flashes across her face sends an instinctual chill skittering across my skin as I see the part of herself that she tries so hard to hide. “I’ll kill him.”
“Wh-what?”
“He hurt you.” Violence flares behind Blair’s eyes.
I shake my head in alarm, wincing at the pain that follows the movement. “Whoa, whoa! He didn’t! It was my fault. I didn’t bring up my neck issue because I didn’t think it would matter for the first time. But nothing happened! It was already not great, but then with all the stress and crying?—”
Blair’s hands tighten against the arms of the chair she’s sitting in. “He made you cry ?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t his fault! I got there, and I was in pain and nervous and he told me to get on my knees so I did, but then his cologne was the same one my ex wore, and the whole time all I could think about was how he was going to realize that I’m not worth the effort and that he’d been with so many other subs so there was no way I’d ever measure up. He told me I was doing well, but it was like it was my ex-husband’s voice in my head, not Declan’s—lying to me, pretending that I was enough while all the time looking for someone better. By the time he went to spank me, I was so upset I started bawling. I promise it wasn’t Declan’s fault. He was a total sweetheart, and he let me cry on him for god knows how long.” I suck in a breath, then add, “Please don’t kill him.”
A long moment of silence passes. As the seconds tick by, I realize how much I overshared. “Shit, I’m sorry. You asked me not to talk about this stuff with you. I shouldn’t have said all that. I just didn’t want you to kill Declan for something that was entirely on me.”
“Don’t apologize. I overreacted,” Blair says, shaking her head like she’s upset with herself.
“Yeah, maybe a little,” I tease. “I appreciate that you have my back, though, in case I do ever need someone taken care of.”
Blair chuckles, and the murderous energy drains from her posture. “I’ll always take care of you, Grace.”
The utter sincerity of her tone threatens to take my breath away. An image of myself kneeling before her while she says that to me floods my mind and my cheeks heat.
“Thank you,” I say softly, trying to hide my unexpected kinky thoughts .
“So, it didn’t go well, then. With Declan.”
I snort. “It was a disaster. He did everything right, was a total gentleman, and I… I was a fucking embarrassment. Not at all like any silly fantasies I had.”
Blair’s brow furrows. “Submission can be intense. You did nothing wrong.”
“Declan said the same thing.” I sigh. It’s good to know that Blair agrees, and he wasn’t saying that to get me to stop blubbering. “He even offered to try again if I felt ready, but I think last night was definitive proof that I’m not cut out for it.”
“It’s not a matter of being good or bad at it. Do you want to try again?” Blair asks.
“I…” I’ve always fantasized about submission. Thinking about it turns me on in a way I can’t quite explain. The concept of letting go and being in the hands of someone else, being totally under their control and at the same time the complete center of their focus, takes my breath away.
“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me about this stuff,” I say. It’s an obvious dodge of her question, but I’m also confused about why she’s asking.
“I was being an asshole,” she says with a sigh. “We can talk about it.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to?—”
Blair nods decisively. “I’m sure.”
She doesn’t elaborate. I’m still worried about making her uncomfortable if I answer her earlier question, but I have no choice but to take her at her word. “Last night was more than embarrassing. It was crushing. I don’t think I’d be able to face Declan again.”
“That’s not what I asked. Do you want to try out submission again?”
“Well… yeah.” I give her a teasing smile, trying to diffuse some of the tension. “Why, are you offering? It’d have to be pro bono because I’m sure there’s no way I could afford your rates.”
“I wouldn’t charge you,” she replies evenly.
My brows shoot up in shock. “Wait. You’d… You’re really…?”
“It doesn’t have to be sexual. I know you’re not interested in women,” she continues. Her face is an unreadable mask.
I shake my head, the thought that she’d try to take advantage of me like that utterly ridiculous. “I’m not worried about that! Blair, you’re so sweet to offer, but I don’t want to make you do anything that would make you uncomfortable.”
“You’re not,” she replies with no hesitation.
“Blair…”
“You’re not,” Blair says again, more firmly. “The only thing that would make me feel uncomfortable is knowing that I can help with what you’re struggling with, and not offering to help.”
A strange wave of relief washes over me. I didn’t realize it before, but I think I’ve secretly hoped that she’d be the person to teach me about kink ever since I found out she’s a domme.
“Okay,” I say with a soft smile.
“What?” She blinks back at me rapidly, probably expecting more of a fight.
She won’t get one. The more I think about this, the more perfect it seems.
Blair is safe. I trust her implicitly. Maybe with her I won’t have to battle fears that I’m not enough, because she’s already decided that I’m worthy of being her friend.
Yeah, maybe it’s a little weird to have a friend dominate me, but that’s better than being triggered constantly when I’m trying to explore this part of myself.
“Yes. I want your help. I want you to be my domme.”