Chapter 36
NOVA
We had reached mid-September. I was almost done writing, and The Circle’s next party was in less than two weeks. Lorelei’s PicWave account had gone radio silent, which worried me deeply. Wes and I both avoided the topic, just as I’d been avoiding everyone from The Circle.
Instead, I’d attended Third House’s artist salon and a pay-what-you-can meditation night, both of which felt infinitely more genuine and relatable than The Circle’s offerings.
Wes hadn’t been able to make it to either event, but I’d made a few new friends who were writers or ran creative small businesses.
Wes and I had gone on four more dates, speaking on the phone most days between. As he taught me more about kink, he teased me mercilessly with make out sessions and soft domming that never fully satisfied the inferno of need between us.
I was starting to get in my head, worrying I was failing some unspoken test or misreading what I thought were clear signals. Everything else about our growing connection reinforced mutuality, and yet, he didn’t feel strongly enough to take things to the next level.
As I got ready to see him, I tried to quiet my jumbled mental landscape.
Not only was I feeling raw and confused about Wes, I was also still struggling financially.
I didn’t feel comfortable discussing this with Wes, so I dealt with it alone.
I squeezed in dates whenever I wasn’t writing, marketing, editing, or trying to keep my clothes washed and apartment clean and myself and Inara fed and cared for—or whenever I wasn’t mentally exhausted and on the verge of tears from doing all these things all at once.
And worst of all, I was haunted by the email in my inbox I’d left unanswered from an agent at a major literary agency, and I was absolutely tormented by the open invitation from my dream publisher to submit my next book directly to her.
Roman had bypassed the level of agents entirely. I could get any agent in the world with an offer from this imprint.
I was living inside my own personal brand of hell. The one thing that meant everything to me had just been tossed in my lap like it meant nothing at all.
What crueler torture than to be given exactly what I’d always wanted in the only form in which I could never accept it?
I hated Roman fucking Graves.
With my look complete, I laced up my Doc Martins by the door. I smoothed out the slight wrinkles in my flirty, rose-printed, long-sleeved dress, all my attempts to relax unrealized.
By the time I made it to our rendezvous point at a bookstore between our apartments, my chest was in a tight squeeze from background anxiety. Nothing felt certain. Nothing felt safe.
“Woah, hey,” Wes said, scanning my face. “What’s wrong, baby?”
We were just inside the store, a few books in my old genre and even more in my new genre prominently showcased. Almost every single one was an indie who’d been picked up by a traditional publisher.
“I’m sorry. I’m just tired,” I said. I forced my lips into a smile, but I wasn’t sure it was convincing. “I love this place.” I cleared my throat, but the lump lodged there wouldn’t budge.
“You said that like I had a gun and a camcorder pointed at you,” Wes said with a lifted brow and a grasp on my forearm to stop me from moving.
I snorted, trying to avoid his penetrating gaze.
He cupped my face, his soft touch and authoritative energy grounding me, slowly stilling my mind. “Tell me what you need, Nova. I require it.”
“I’m sorry for being sensitive and annoying,” I forced out, “but I can’t be here right now.”
Wes immediately let go of my face, grabbed my hand, and led me out of the store. “You are never annoying to me, Nova. Never. We are all sensitive. It’s human. You’re allowed to be human.”
I relaxed. I didn’t ask where we were going, but it wasn’t long before I figured it out.
“I’m juggling a lot right now,” I admitted as we headed north toward Wes’s apartment. “And unlike the lives of the women in Jayne’s girls group chat, it’s not easy. It’s really fucking hard. I’m finding it impossible to relax.”
Wes nodded. “Explain it to me, please.”
I took a deep breath, and I unloaded. I told him everything weighing on me.
I explained my options for this next book, which were to either sit in query hell for who knew how long in the hopes a publisher might offer a decent advance and release the book in one to three years, or to go ahead and indie publish it, create all new marketing systems from scratch for a completely new author brand, and pray a publisher noticed me after the book took off.
If I could make this book take off.
And, like a coward, I completely omitted door number three—the option where I let The Circle make everything easy. I reasoned I didn’t need to tell Wes about the publisher if I never planned on walking through that door.
“You’re in the dark night of the soul with your career right now, where it’s impossible to see the inevitable peak ahead,” he said, squeezing my hand.
“I love your ambition. I know I can’t solve this for you, but I want to help in any way I can, even if you just need someone to bounce ideas off of. ”
I nodded, and he kissed the side of my head.
“You’re going to do what’s best for your art and your business. I’ve talked to many founders and executives in my life, and I’m telling you, Nova, you have it. The intuition that can never be taught. That ineffable propelling force. You have not failed; you have learned.”
I sighed, trying to accept the compliment without deflecting or rationalizing. “Thank you, Wes.”
We turned onto his street, and my phone buzzed. “Sorry, let me turn that off,” I murmured, but when I looked at my phone, I couldn’t not see the text.
Delilah
Oh my Goddd. What does Lorelei’s post mean? Do you know where that is?
I stopped walking. Wes turned from halfway up the stoop.
My heart beat wildly. A better person would’ve silenced her phone and put it away. Instead, I clicked PicWave and toggled to my burner account.
“I—I’m sorry,” I said to Wes. “I need to…”
The post was a picture of Lorelei standing in front of a bedroom window, a man’s hand around her throat as her head dipped back, exposing her long neck.
She was in a black dress with a plunging neckline.
My stomach churned at the unsettling way her ribcage protruded on her upper chest. Beyond her was an expansive view of some luxury estate encased by forest.
“She’s there,” I said. I slowly met Wes by the front door and handed him the phone. “Lorelei is already upstate.”
Wes read the caption aloud. “He has rid me of all fear. I am ready. I am ready to merge with eternity, with my God, with The Circle.”
I felt sick. Wes clicked the side of my phone and opened the front door, steering me inside. Tonight, he was the one who dropped to his knees, gingerly helping me out of my boots. When he straightened, his eyes were fiery, his jaw impossibly tight.
Just one word, guttural and raw, came from deep inside him as he stared hard at my face. “No.”
“No?” I repeated softly.
Wes backed me up against the wall. “They are luring you there… They are luring us there… And they’re using your friend to do it.”
I watched him fight an internal battle, as if struggling to remain in control.
“You said you wouldn’t,” I whispered. “You said you wouldn’t demand this of me.” Wes had said he didn’t want me anywhere near The Circle, but he would never use his power to take away my agency.
Now, I was the one fighting an internal battle. I wanted to obey Wes—whose singular word was not a request, but a command. Yet I also wanted to save Lorelei.
I needed to save her.
And just like with every other decision I faced, no matter which I chose, I lost.
“Things have changed,” Wes said vaguely, staring down at my body as if he owned it—this body he had barely touched and hardly explored.
“Nothing has changed,” I said bitterly before I could stop myself.
Wes reared back as if I’d slapped him. “Nothing?” he asked.
I swallowed. “You can’t tell me what to do, not with something this important to me, especially when you don’t even feel strongly enough about me to…”
I looked away, unable to finish. It felt too pathetic to say aloud.
Wes’s eyes widened, his arms flexing where they boxed me in on either side. “Nova…” He took a deep breath. “God, I—”
I braced for the truth. I told myself I could handle it, even if my heart protested.
“It is because I feel so strongly that I’ve held back with you,” he said. “I’m working through my shit, I promise. God, I swear, I’m trying. I told myself the day we met that I would never be able to give you what you needed. That I couldn’t have you.”
My heart clenched. My lower lip felt wobbly. I closed my eyes for a moment and searched for strength I wasn’t sure I possessed.
“Look at me, baby, please,” Wes asked, his voice racked with emotion.
I met his eyes, trapped in their gravitational pull just as I’d been from the start.
“Rip off the Band-Aid,” I begged. “Don’t draw it out. If you feel strongly but you still can’t do this, just tell me.” I stamped down the urge to cry, leaning into anger instead. My voice came out stronger this time, my gaze sharpening. “Tell me how you feel, Wes.”
“How I feel,” he repeated harshly. A vein in his tattooed neck pulsed. Wes’s control snapped. He pushed off the wall and took a step back from me. “I am fucking terrified of becoming addicted to you, Nova!”
I flinched. The words seemed to echo against the walls, in my own mind.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, lowering his voice. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He gently tugged me toward him, and a tremor rolled through his body, similar to the day he told me about his ex. He rested his forehead against mine.
“Fuck this,” he growled, slamming his lips against mine. I was breathless as he consumed me, devoured me—nothing like the careful control he’d maintained these past weeks.
My mind, once scrambled and confused and desperate to solve the avalanche of problems crashing toward me, settled.
It all went quiet. Everything faded to the background. Only Wes remained.
His lips skated down my neck, sucking and nibbling until he finally made good on his promise. He held me in place as he bit down on my sensitive flesh. I gasped, melting in his hold as he quickly soothed his bite with his tongue.
“Are you going to use your safe words, Nova?” Wes asked, low and urgent.
“Yes.”
We were using the red, yellow, and green light system for simplicity’s sake.
He stared down at my body one more time before throwing me over his shoulder. I squealed in surprise, feet flailing, and he slapped my exposed ass before gripping it hard.
He carried me up the stairs with ease, to the one floor I hadn’t seen yet.
When I was back on a solid floor, I glanced around at a tastefully decorated bedroom with black and forest green accents, art, bookcases, and wooden furniture.
I was dizzy from the blood rush and emotional intensity.
Wes gripped my hair at the base of my scalp, forcing me to look up into his stormy eyes.
“I will go with you,” he said. “But I don’t want anyone else fucking touching you.”
I tried to nod, but the movement pulled at my hair. I winced. Wes didn’t loosen his grip. My core turned molten, my panties growing slick.
“This is it. After this party, we are done.”
“Agreed,” I said, raspy.
“I want to give you a collar.”
My heart skipped. Wes wasn’t quitting. He wasn’t giving up on us. “You want to be…” I stumbled over my words, and Wes caught me.
“Yes, Nova. I want to be your Dom, if you want me to be. Boyfriend works too.”
He didn’t let go of my hair. If anything, his grip only tightened as his gaze roamed my face in fervent desperation.
Like a near death experience, my erotic life quickly flashed before my eyes.
The feelings and attractions I’d been born with, that had always been a part of me no matter how hard I prayed for them to be removed.
Secretly enjoying getting chased by boys at my school, my Daphne obsession, my early explorations on the dark corners of the internet and social media.
All those years spent denying what could never be smothered.
All those years spent associating my desires with the disgusting, abusive men who’d hurt me, who had hurt Lorelei even more.
And then, I experienced the last few months, watching people live out their wildest, kinkiest fantasies like it was as easy as breathing. I saw myself opening up, changing, dreaming of a future for myself I never thought possible, one in which I could be free.
Free enough to fall for someone like Wes, kicking and screaming the whole way down.
Wes faltered as I stayed silent, his grip finally loosening.
I forced the words from my lips. “I want to be yours, Wes.” My shoulders relaxed. My breathing slowed. I placed a hand on his chest. “I trust you.”
The briefest flash of something I couldn’t read passed through Wes’s eyes. Maybe he was thinking of his ex and his own years of self-punishment and denial.
He released my hair and pulled me into his arms, his hand smoothing the back of my head where my scalp was still raw. “We’re only going to do what you marked as bright green for now, understood?”
I nodded, melting into his chest. His scent had become soothing to me. I couldn’t get enough of it into my lungs.
“I’m going to take care of you, Nova,” he whispered. “I promise.”