Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Fox
I have a problem. Well, I have two. The most immediate problem is my fingers are cramping and shaking, making it difficult to untie my sweet Kitten.
Her body has been confined long enough, and she deserves her freedom.
Each knot and loop feels like an eternity to unravel.
I know she’s crying, and she’s not in a space where she’s ready to tell me why.
So I keep working with the rope, freeing her legs first, then her hands, and finally her shoulders.
She’s still lying on the ropes, but they hang loosely under her.
I grab a towel from the bathroom and start cleaning her up, then I move on to massage and loosen her muscles.
I haven’t stopped telling her what a wonderful job she did, that she’s a good girl. My good girl.
And this is the second, and much bigger problem: I’m in love with her.
Fox, Ryan, all of me, is completely, hopelessly in love with her. It’s not the sex or her complete willingness to give herself to me. It’s that she wants me to feel the same, that I gave myself to her, body and soul.
And I never thought it would happen again.
My hands work over her back, soothing her strained body.
The rope left marks up and down her skin, but with each passing minute, they start to fade.
She covers her face while I pull the ropes from under her, rolling her over to face me.
Her tears have slowed to a trickle, unlike the stream that came when we were finished.
I press closer to her and gently guide her hands down.
Her face is a mixture of red and raw from the friction and salt.
Her lower lip quivers as she closes her eyes. She’s still not ready.
I wrap the blanket over her shoulders, tucking it close to keep her safe and warm. She shifts, fitting herself against me until her head finds the center of my chest. Instinct takes over as I draw her in, my arms settling around her like they belong there. “Take your time, Kitten.”
Her breathing slows, and she whispers, “Am I not enough?”
Those four words cut me to my soul and break every wall I left standing for both of our protection. She doesn’t know what she’s done for me because Fox isn’t strong enough to tell her.
“You are everything.” The words fall out like crumbling mortar holding together the last brick of the wall. The confession slips out before I can stop it. “You’ve changed me in ways I never thought I could.”
She sniffs. “But there’s no future with us.”
I love you, and now I have to break your heart. “No.”
She whimpers and cries a little more. Between gasping breaths, she manages, “What if no one else can make me feel like this again? I’ve experienced so much, and just like that, it’s gone?”
The words twist inside me, meant to sound broken, but something about them doesn’t sit right.
A darker thought slips in before I can stop it.
Is this just about the way I make her feel?
The touch, the danger, the thrill of doing something she shouldn’t?
My chest tightens. Am I just another experience?
The question I don’t want to ask burns anyway. What if she doesn’t feel anything real for Fox at all, and this is just her way of cushioning the fall before she runs back to Ryan?
For the first time, doubt tastes sharper than heartbreak.
Still, a tiny shred of hope flickers that Ryan might be able to give her what Fox can’t. With him, she could have a future. And for that to happen, Fox has to disappear.
“You’ve gotten very good at communicating what you need. I’m sure someone will make you feel like this again.”
She huffs and rubs her face into my T-shirt. “So this is our last time. We’re over?”
“Yes.” It’s the hardest word I’ve said all year.
“Will you stay until I fall asleep?”
Pressing my lips to her head, I say, “Yes.”
To her credit, she doesn’t beg me to stay. Thank God, because I’m not strong enough to reject her again. Normally she fights a little to stay awake, but not tonight. My quiet Kitten breathes slow until I know she’s dreaming.
Fox is dead. I’m never going back to that persona. I won’t even go back to Club Midnight, not unless she wants to go with Ryan. And that might not be for a long time.
A part of me wants to leave the mask behind, to give her something tangible. But I don’t. She’ll have nothing but the memories.