7. Chapter 7 #2
With dance, I never felt less than. I wasn’t conceited, nor did I think I was better than anyone. But I knew my worth, and my talent spoke for itself. This was a whole new realm, though. And in true Death Squad fashion, they took me under their wing.
Bash, being a senior member of the club and having years of experience, took on the challenge, making my previous fears dissolve immediately. He took me around, answered all the questions I had, explained scenes—contracts, terms—and even had me go through a series of tests.
They were sticklers for rules of safety and guidelines.
Training was intense, to say the least. They held to the belief that to learn to dominate; you had to experience it first. Both sides, Sub and Dominant.
Apparently unbeknownst to me, their initial mentor believed the same.
If they had gone through it, I could as well.
Through it all, I discovered new things about myself or found pieces that always existed. And there was no way I’d go back. Not that it was an option with Isabella, even if she was on board. Which, for the love of God, was probably for the best.
“Did I lose you?” she asked.
“No, I was thinking things I shouldn’t,” I admitted to her, watching as her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.
“I should dock your pay, you know. Maybe I’ll bring this issue up to HR tomorrow at breakfast.”
“Oh no. I’m shaking in my boots.”
“You will be when Bash throws you out of the house.”
“Ouch. You’re a cruel mistress. Now there’s a thought. Maybe number one on the list? What do you think about becoming a Mistress?” I raised my eyebrows, taunting her.
This time she abandoned punching me and opted instead to yank my hair back. Hard. I hissed.
“I take the sanctity of marriage seriously. I will never be someone’s mistress. Are we clear?”
I smiled lazily at her as fire burned in her eyes. “I meant in the capacity of the club. Look who is making assumptions.”
She released my hair and absentmindedly soothed the strands. She seemed content to run her fingers through it, not that I was in a hurry to stop her.
“And just so you know that last directive you gave, ‘are we clear’ distinctly reminds me of Mistress Faye.”
“The numbers. Are you going to tell me the significance?” she asked as Declan shifted in her arms. She removed her hands and rubbed his back instead. I frowned. Was I really jealous of a six-year-old?
“Some believe numbers are messages from the spiritual universe that offer insight, wisdom, and direction.”
“Is that so? And you believe this?”
“Yes, they date back to Ancient Greek civilization. It’s a whole concept, the philosopher Pythagoras believed.
According to him, our reality is a physical manifestation of the vibration of numbers.
But to answer your earlier question, the number five, which is the root number, resonates with adaptability. ”
“So why fourteen?” she asked.
I pushed a strand of hair from her face and felt her body sigh at the touch. Damn thing was starved for it. If only—
I moved my hands away and cleared my throat.
“It popped into my head when you asked. It’s an intentional number and one that invites positive energy and constant movement.
It shows up when change is afoot.” I paused, watching her eyes widen.
“It’s linked to karmic debts. It’s also known to help wipe the slate clean and leave old patterns of behavior behind. ”
“Hmm.”
“The number fourteen symbolizes adaptability, resourcefulness, and independence. It carries the energy of transformations.”
“And that’s what you think I need? To transform?”
I nodded. “Also, the number fourteen encourages you to embrace change fearlessly. You’ve grown quite a bit lately. But it’s time to leave negative situations and challenging times behind. It’s time to move forward.”
When she asked how many items, the number appeared in my brain like a neon light. As she contemplated my answer, I fought my urge to touch her again.
“Make the first suggestion for the fuck-it list.” She smirked, relishing her power.
“Are we still going for crazy?” I paused, awaiting her reply. I wrote number one on the inside of the card. She gave me a slight nod. “Very well,” I said as I wrote. “Do something unhinged and totally out of character.”
“That’s not specific at all. You’re no help,” she said, rolling her eyes. Then a sly smile played on her lips, and a twinkle filled her eyes. She was up to something, looking for loopholes. “Cross that one off.”
“Why would I do that?” I challenged.
“Well, I am, after all, lying on a man’s bed. That’s unhinged, if I do say so myself,” she declared, looking proud of herself.
She foolishly believed that being with me in my room was enough to fulfill the criteria for number one. Foolish girl, I had a completely different notion of unhinged. But nonetheless, she was quite amused with herself.
I appreciated her attempts and realized I was going to have to keep her accountable throughout the entire process, or she’d find a way to cross everything off without so much as a second thought.
“Nah, that doesn’t count. After all, I’m like a brother. Isn’t that what you said earlier?” It was my turn to stick my tongue out. “So we can add a disclaimer. Something tells me we will be doing this a lot. The disclaimer now reads, with Pasha and not in the capacity of a brother.”
“Like what then?” she stammered, her cute face going all red. “I’m not doing anything…that might…be…” she paused, and her hands went around Declan’s ears. “Nasty,” she whispered.
I threw my head back and laughed. “See, this is what I was talking about. Why was that your first thought? I was thinking something silly, like a drive along the North Coast 500.”
“We’ve been on road trips before,” she remarked dryly.
That was true. We had. But never alone. No squad. No safety net. “Yes, but not alone and in a camper van.”
“A camper van. Me and you?” I loved the way her voice hitched, showing her nervousness.
“Yes, but the catch is we mingle with others and present ourselves as a couple.”
She coughed and stammered, “Why would we do that?”
“Because it leads to number two on the list, and it’ll allow you to get your feet wet, so to speak.” I wrote furiously, and after a minute of my still writing, she peeked over. I quickly brought the card to my chest to conceal it.
I was pushing boundaries, recklessly almost. It was easy to justify. I was helping her. That was what friends did. Deep down, I knew it was a gray area, and that it was foolish to be alone with her. She recognized it as well, hence why she insisted Declan join us.
“What did you write?”
“Doesn’t matter. Now that it’s there, it stays. Marcel made the rules, and you appointed me as your scribe. You’re now beholden to this list. But we’ll get to that later. For now, it’s your turn to make some suggestions.”
“Lev, what did you put down for number two?”
Crystal blue eyes searched mine, and my heart flipped inside my chest. God, I loved it when she called me by that nickname. She’d given it to me shortly after she began tattooing my chest.
“I wrote, give love a solid chance.”
I expected her to refuse, to detach herself from Declan and storm out. It’s what she would have done a year ago, but something told me she wanted more. However, I wasn’t prepared for her next words.
“Well, if I’m going to do that, we should probably address the issue of my virginity. Add mindless sex to the list for number three, please.”
My heart slammed inside my chest. Images of her naked with another man triggered the protective beast inside. Or maybe it was more possessive. The thought hit like a punch from Ivan in the ring. Her learning. Laughing. Giving that first moment to a stranger.
She’s not yours, asshole. Can never be yours.
My eye twitched. I needed to calm the fuck down. “Why mindless?”
That’s what you’re going to focus on? Tell her that there is no fucking way she is losing her virginity to some stranger and if she does, it should be mind-blowing.
I took a deep breath, watching her face, trying to read her mind somehow.
“I mean technically I know how to…what happens,” she paused and gulped, “I’ve also read that many women don’t experience…um…pleasure the first time.”
“Only if they’re with a man who doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. Trust me, you don’t want that,” I growled before adding lower, “Life is too short. Sex should never be mindless, princess.”
“The guys talk. I’ve heard Sebastian say more times than I can count that virgins are too needy.”
My jaw tightened. “Your brother talks a lot of shit.”
“Yeah, and most of the guys agree. Something like that could push a person away. How am I to give love a solid chance like that? Write it down.”
“I will, but it’s against my better judgment,” I mumbled as I scratched the words on the card.
I had no right to care this much. And yet, I did.