35 Lindsey
Lindsey
I WAKE UP TO the mattress moving beneath me. My eyes peel open, and I blink away sleep to see Dane sitting up against the dark, wooden headboard, morning light flooding the room. He’s shirtless and…wearing glasses.
Jesus, how does this man keep getting hotter?
I blink another few times, and when I try to move, I find that I’m tucked under covers.
The last thing I remember is him carrying me—yes, carrying me—to bed, then him cleaning me up with a rag and warm water as I floated in a space of half-awake and half-dreaming while my body felt all tingly and wonderful.
That apparently led to me actually dreaming, except I was dead asleep and don’t remember a thing I dreamed about.
“Good morning,” Dane’s gruff voice greets.
I stare at him, blushing for some reason. I don’t know if it’s because he’s wearing square, thick-framed glasses that make him look extra delicious or if it’s because I fell asleep on him last night after we did very dirty things together.
“Morning,” I answer back. My voice is hoarse, and when I swallow, it feels like the back of my throat is a little bruised. The reminder of his cock hitting that spot before he came in my mouth makes me flush a deeper red.
The corner of his lips lifts up a little, and he reaches to the side table next to him where he has a cup with a metal straw. So not only is this man hot, caring, and sweet, but he also cares about the environment? I think I’m screwed.
Dane holds out the drink, and with my arms trapped by the covers, he puts the straw to my mouth.
My body heats under all this attention, but I wrap my lips around the straw, sucking down the cool water.
It feels good against my used throat and dry mouth, and I drink almost half of it before I tell him I’m done.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome.” He puts the glass down, and my eyes drift to his chest. I realize it’s the first time I’ve seen him without a shirt on, which seems ridiculous after all we’ve done. He notices me looking and flexes. When I look up into his eyes, he’s smiling at me, a gleam in his hazel orbs.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
I shift under the blanket to pull my arms free, and the first thing I notice is how my nipples smart while rubbing against the sheet. My ass isn’t much better. The movement is also a reminder that I’m completely naked under his lightweight, slate-gray comforter and sheet set.
“A little sore,” I say honestly. It’s not like I can lie—I clearly cringed.
“I’ll get you some cream. I put some on you last night, but it’s good to reapply.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Maybe not,” he says, “but I’m going to.”
Dane shifts on the bed, and that’s when I notice he has a laptop on his lap.
How long has he been up for? I don’t even know what time it is.
Then I remember I have a short shift at work tonight, and I should call Kas and check on her before that, even if that means I have to talk to Jeremy.
He hates when I call, but I do it anyway.
I grab Dane’s forearm to stop him. “It’s okay, really. I should probably get up and get moving.”
“Why’s that?” he asks as he closes his computer and puts it on the side table next to the water.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep last night.”
He raises an eyebrow. “So because you didn’t mean to fall asleep, now you need to leave as fast as you can and be in pain?”
He makes a good point, but I argue anyway. “I’m okay, really. It’s just…you probably have things to do.” I motion to where he set his laptop.
It hits me that he was probably talking to his other submissives.
Not that it’s any of my business—it is his job, even if the thought makes me question what exactly I am to Dane.
A lot of things were said last night, but in the morning light and with my brain now coming back online from sleep, all my insecurities begin to bubble in my chest like lava.
I clear my throat. “I do, too. So, I’ll get out of your way.” I remove the hand that was still on his forearm and start to climb out of bed. I don’t make it far, though, before I’m being tugged back and Dane is rolling on top of me, pinning my arms above my head.
“Did I say I wanted you to leave?” Dane’s voice is deeper in the morning, if that’s even possible.
“Dane,” I mutter.
His hazel eyes are dark, and framed by his glasses, they somehow pop more than they usually do. “Lindsey.” He parrots my name in the same tone. “Did I say I wanted you to leave?”
I run my tongue along my teeth and groan. “No, you didn’t.”
“Do you want to leave?”
I suck in air, allowing myself to feel the comforting weight of Dane’s solid body and his strong hands holding my wrists above my head.
I’d woken up and started thinking too quickly.
I didn’t even get to enjoy the fact that this is the first time I’ve slept next to someone who wasn’t my kid in years.
Now that I really think about it, that was the best and deepest sleep I’ve had in…I don’t remember. I feel good, despite the soreness of my nipples and my ass, but even that feels good in a different kind of way.
Dane’s hands tense against my wrists, and my eyes refocus on his questioning gaze.
“I asked you a question.” His breath, which smells like mint, fills my nostrils, and I curse him for waking up before me and getting the opportunity to get rid of his morning breath.
“I don’t want to leave,” I say honestly. “But…”
“But?” he asks when I take too long, and I’m surprised he didn’t tell me to use my words.
“I had a plan of things I was going to do today before I work tonight. I was going to wake up early and do my routine then clean my house and maybe start on a project I’ve been wanting to do. Maybe nap.”
He smiles at the last one. “It’s only eight. You have plenty of time to do what you need to and take a nap. Even if you don’t rush out on me.”
“When did you get up?” I ask. “I thought it was way later than that.”
“Around five.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Is that a usual thing for you?”
“It is. My body naturally wakes me up around that time.”
“Is that a Logger Dane thing or a Dom Dane thing?”
His grip on my wrists tightens, and his knees, which are bracketing my legs, pull in tighter against my thighs, his way of reminding me we’re in a precarious position. One where he has all the power.
“It’s a Dane thing.” He smirks.
I swallow hard, and his gaze flicks down to watch my throat. The memory of his hand there, cutting off my air supply while he made me come, sends a lightning bolt to my core. Before I know what I’m doing, my hips shift up as if I’m trying to hump him, and Dane’s warm laughter fills the air.
“None of that,” he tuts. “You said you have things to do, and playing with me wasn’t one of them.”
Dane gets up as quickly as he pinned me and rolls off the mattress so he’s standing near the side of the bed.
That’s when I see the damn man is only in a pair of gray boxers.
My eyes drag down his muscular body, noticing everything is cut and massive.
When my gaze reaches his thigh, I find a black-and-gray tattoo of a large stag, the tops of the antlers covered by the hem of his underwear.
He clears his throat, and I sheepishly meet his gaze. “I like your tattoo.”
“Is that all you like?” he asks cheekily.
I almost roll my eyes but stop myself. I don’t need another spanking right now, even if the idea does make my pussy wetter than he already made it by pinning me to the mattress and being stupidly hot in those damn glasses.
I turn my eyes down to the comforter. “It’s not all I like.”
Dane is quiet at my answer, and I don’t look up, shifting on the bed as I think of all the things I like beyond his tattoo. I should really get out of this bed before I embarrass myself. I didn’t plan to spend the night, and now things are going to get awkward.
I still don’t know what Dane and I are. He said a lot of things last night, and I said I’d wear his training collar, but what are we, really?
Are we dating or just doing sexual scenes along with my daily check-ins?
If I think too much about it, my head hurts.
It’s all way too confusing for this early in the morning.
“Put this on,” he says.
I push my thoughts away as I look up at him. He’s holding out a neatly folded mustard-colored robe. I take it from his hands, the silky material soft against my fingers. I know right away this is a woman’s robe. My nagging insecurities attempt to bubble back up, but then I see it has tags on it.
“I got it for you,” he says before I can wonder if that was the case or if he simply had a robe lying around for a woman to wear.
“There’s also a new toothbrush for you in the bathroom. If you’d like, you can take a shower, or I can bathe you,” he adds with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “Regardless of your choice, you’ll put the cream I mentioned on to help with the pain.”
I swallow and look down at the robe in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over the fabric.
When I look at the tags, I see he’s removed the price, but I recognize the brand as an expensive one.
It’s also my size. I don’t know how he knew or if it was a lucky guess, but I’ve never had a man do something so kind for me.
Then it strikes me—we only planned this time together on a whim last night. How did he order everything for me in time? He had to have done it before. We don’t get things shipped to Starlight Haven in one or two days like in a big city.
“Is something wrong?” Dane asks.
“When did you order this?”
I expect the question to make him uncomfortable, but he simply says, “When our dynamic started to shift, I ordered your favorite new remote-controlled toy and that, along with a few other things.” He grins. “Like the mints.”
My mouth waters as if I’ve been trained Pavlovian-style, and I have to swallow down the saliva collecting in my mouth.
“How did you get it so fast?”
“I drove down to the PO box I have at the base of the mountain. That’s where I had everything delivered.”
My heart squeezes, and I pull the robe against me, looking down at it. He did all that for me? I clutch the fabric and fight off a wave of tears stinging my eyes. I’ve cried with this man too much already, and I don’t want him to think I’m weak.
I blink away the emotion before I look back up at him. He’s observing me carefully, and I know he knows I’m fighting back tears.
“Thank you.” I swallow again. “That was really thoughtful.”
“You’re welcome, baby. I told you I’m here to take care of you, and I meant that.
Though…” His eyes flash down my body, the one still covered by the sheet.
“I meant what I said last night, too. Eventually, I won’t allow you to have clothes on when it’s just you and me.
I prefer to see what I own. So don’t get used to the robe. ”
My sensitive nipples tighten into buds, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I know I’d be even more turned on by his words if my brain wasn’t focused on what he said—not only the reiteration that he owns me but that he also wants to do this again.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if this means that we’re dating or if seeing each other like this is simply casual or normal for this type of D/s relationship.
I also want to know if he tells other submissives he owns them, even though their relationships don’t involve sex.
But I don’t, because I’m not sure I’m ready for the answers, especially if they aren’t what I want to hear.
Because, dammit, I think I’m falling for Dane.
Not Logger Dane, not Dom Dane—just Dane.
“Well,” he says, taking off his glasses, which I’m guessing are readers. “Are you going to stay in bed, or did you want to do your routine and have breakfast before we go to your place?”
My brow furrows at the same time my heart speeds up. “We?”
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to spend the day with you.”
I think my heart fully stops in my chest. “I need to clean, and the projects—I don’t know if they are something you’d want to help with.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘we’ if I didn’t want to help you. I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he says.
I study his face a moment longer and know he’s really not joking. My shoulders ease, and I smile softly. “Are you doing this because you’ll get to nap with me?”
He chuckles. “It’s a bonus.”
“Don’t you have work?” I eye his computer, attempting to keep my face neutral.
“I did what I needed to do until tonight. But if you want, you can help me film a video or two later.”
I imagine filming Dane as DomInTheWoods, and I’m not going to lie, that sounds like fun.
Especially since when I watch the videos he posts, I’ll secretly know I was the one who filmed them, who he was looking at while doing them.
It calms this weird jealousy I’ve been feeling over a man I’m not sure is completely mine.
“Okay. But you can’t judge me for how messy my house is.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“Then turn around, Sir. I need to put my robe on.”
Dane huffs a laugh, and I can tell he wants to challenge me over the not-watching bit, but he salutes me instead. “I’ll see you in the bathroom.” He points to it with the glasses in his hand.
When he’s out of sight, I flop back onto the pillows, pulling the soft fabric to rub on my cheek. I have no idea what I’m doing or why I agreed to let Dane into my home to help me clean and do projects of all things, but I can’t say I’m mad about it. I’m probably more excited than I should be.