Dominant And Submissive

Sarah's P.O.V

My hormones are racing. My skin tingles where his thumb traced over my face and lower lip. I feel like squirming with a needy, achy... discomfort. I don't understand this reaction. Hmm... Desire. This is desire. This is what it feels like.

I lie back on the soft feather filled pillows. 'If you were mine.' Oh my - what would I do to be his? He's the only man who has ever set my blood racing around my body. Yet,

he's so antagonizing too; he's difficult, complicated, and confusing. One minute he rebuffs me, the next he back to the Jonathan Christopher that I once knew, then he tracks me like a stalker. And for all that, I have spent the night in his hotel suite, and I feel safe. Protected. He cares enough to come and rescue me from some mistakenly perceived danger.

He's not a dark knight at all, but a white knight in shining, dazzling armor - a classic romantic hero - Sir Hercules, Thor or Lancelot.

I scramble out of his bed frantically searching for my jeans. He emerges from the bathroom wet and glistening from the shower, still unshaven, with just a towel around his waist, and there am I - all bare legs and awkward gawkiness. He's surprised to see me out of bed.

"If you're looking for your jeans, I've sent them to the laundry." His gaze is a dark obsidian. "They were spattered with your vomit."

"Oh." I flush scarlet. Why oh why does he always catch me on the back foot?

"I sent James out for another pair and some shoes. They're in the bag on the chair."

Clean clothes. What an unexpected bonus.

"Um... I'll have a shower," I mutter. "Thanks." What else can I say? I grab the bag and dart into the bathroom away from the unnerving proximity of naked Jace Alicanté . Michelangelo's David has nothing on him.

In the bathroom, it's all hot and steamy from where he's been showering. I strip off my clothes and quickly clamber into the shower anxious to be under the cleansing stream of water. It cascades over me, and I hold up my face into the welcoming torrent. I want Jace Alicanté . I want him badly. Simple fact. For the first time in my life, I want to go to bed with a man, not that he's my first, but he's my second. I want to feel his hands and his mouth on me.

He said he likes his women sentient. He's probably not celibate then. But he's not made a pass at me, unlike Ben or Kelvin. I don't understand. Does he want me?. Am I repellent to him? And yet, I'm here and he brought me here. I just don't know what his game is? What he's thinking? You've slept in his bed all night, and he's not touched you Sarah . You do the math. My subconscious has reared her ugly, snide head. I ignore her.

The water is warm and soothing. Hmm... I could stay under this shower, in his bathroom, forever. I reach for the body-wash and it smells of him. It's a delicious smell. I rub it all over myself, fantasizing that it's him - him rubbing this heavenly scented soap into my body, across my breasts, over my stomach, between my thighs with his long fingered hands. Oh my. My heartbeat picks up again, this feels so... so good.

.

"Breakfast is here." He knocks on the door, startling me.

"Okay," I stutter as I'm yanked cruelly out of my erotic daydream.

I climb out of the shower and grab two towels. I put my hair in one and wrap it Carmen Miranda style on my head. Hastily, I dry myself, ignoring the pleasurable feel of the towel rubbing against my over-sensitized skin.

I inspect the bag of jeans. Not only has James brought me jeans and new Converse, but a pale grey shirt, socks, and underwear. Oh my. A clean bra and panties - actually to describe them in such a mundane, utilitarian way does not do them justice. They are an exquisite design of some fancy European lingerie. All pale grey lace and finery. Wow. I am in awe and slightly daunted by this underwear. . What's more, they fit perfectly. But of

course they do. I flush to think of the Buzz-Cut man in some lingerie store buying this for me. I wonder what else is in his job description.

I dress quickly. The rest of the clothing is a perfect fit. I brusquely towel-dry my hair and try desperately to bring it under control. But, as usual, it refuses to cooperate, and my only option is to restrain it with a hair tie. I shall search in my purse, when I find it. I take a deep breath. Time to face Mr. Confusing controller.

I'm relieved to find the bedroom empty. I hunt quickly for my purse - but it's not in here. Taking another deep breath, I enter the living area of the suite. It's huge. There's an opulent, plush seating area, all overstuffed couches and soft cushions, an elaborate coffee table with a stack of large glossy books, a study area with a top-of-the-range Mac, an enormous plasma screen TV on the wall, and Jace is sitting at a dining table on the other side of the room reading a newspaper. It's the size of a tennis court or something, not that I play tennis, though I have watched Izzy a few times. Izzy!

"Crap, Izzy," I croak. Jace peers up at me.

"She knows you're here and still alive. I texted Damon ," he says with just a trace of humor.

Oh no. I remember her fervent dancing of the night before. All her patented moves used with maximum effect to seduce Jace's friend no less! What's she going to think about me being here? I've never stayed out before. She's still with Damon. She's only done this twice before, and both times I've had to endure the hideous pink PJs for a week from the fallout. She's going to think I've had a one-night stand too.

Jace stares at me imperiously. He's wearing a blue linen shirt, collar and cuffs undone.

"Sit," he commands, pointing to a place at the table. I make my way across the room and sit down opposite him as I've been directed. The table is laden with food.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I ordered a selection from the breakfast menu." He gives me a crooked, apologetic smile.

"That's very profligate of you," I murmur, bewildered by the choice, though I am hungry.

"Yes, it is." He sounds guilty.

I opt for pancakes, maple syrup, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Jace tries to hide a smile as he returns to his egg white omelet. The food is delicious.

"Tea?" he asks.

"Yes, please."

He passes me a small teapot of hot water and on the saucer is a Twining's English Breakfast teabag. Jeez, he remembers how I like my tea. Jonathan Christopher remembers much about what I like and hate.

"Your hair's very damp," he scolds.

"I couldn't find the hairdryer," I mutter, embarrassed. Not that I looked.

Jace's mouth presses into a hard line, but he doesn't say anything.

"Thank you for organizing the clothes."

"It's a pleasure, Sarah. That color suits you."

I blush and stare down at my fingers.

"You know, you really should learn to take a compliment." His tone is castigating.

"I should give you some money for these clothes."

He glares at me as if I have offended him on some level. I hurry on.

But these clothes, please let me pay you back." I smile tentatively at him.

"Sarah, trust me, I can afford it."

"That's not the point. Why should you buy these for me?"

"Because I can," his eyes flash with a wicked gleam.

"Just because you can doesn't mean that you should," I reply quietly as he arches an eyebrow at me, his eyes twinkling, and suddenly I feel that we're talking about something else, but I don't know what it is. Which reminds me...

How come you knew where I was? And why bring me here, when you said you knew my apartment?

he pauses and shrugs slightly, "I felt I owed you an apology and a warning." He runs his hand through his hair.

"Sarah, I'm not a hearts and flowers kind of man, I don't do romance. My tastes are very singular. You should steer clear from me." He closes his eyes as if in defeat. "There's something about you, though, and I'm finding it impossible to stay away. But I think you've figured that out already."

My appetite vanishes. He can't stay away!

"Then don't," I whisper.

He gasps, his eyes wide.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Enlighten me, then."

We sit gazing at each other, neither of us touching our food.

"You're not celibate then?" I breathe.

Amusement lights up his neon eyes.

"No, Sarah, I'm not celibate." He pauses for this information to sink in, and I flush red. The mouth-to-brain filter is broken again. I can't believe I've just said that out loud.

"What are your plans for the next few days?" he asks, his voice low.

"I'm working today, from midday. What is the time?" I panic suddenly.

"It's just after ten, you've plenty of time. What about tomorrow?" He has his elbows on the table, and his chin is resting on his long steepled fingers.

"Izzy and I are going to start packing. We're moving to Califonia next weekend, and I'm working at Mrs Lindsey Coffee shop all this week."

"You have a place in California already?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"I can't remember the address. It's in San Francisco,Webster street , but I can't seem to remember the address."

"Not far from me," his lips twitch up in a half smile. "So what are you going to do for work in San Francisco ?"

Where is he going with all these questions? The Jace Alicanté Inquisition is almost as irritating as the Elizabeth Inn Inquisition.

"I've applied for some working in the beach before my result comes out. I'm waiting to hear."

"Have you applied to Our company as Alexander suggested?"

I flush... of course not. Talking of Alexander, where has he been?

"Um... no."

"And what's wrong with Our company?"

"Your company or your Company?" I smirk.

He smiles slightly.

"Are you smirking at me, Miss Elaine ?" He cocks his head to one side, and I think he looks amused, but it's hard to tell. I flush and glance down at my unfinished breakfast. I can't look him in the eye when he uses that tone of voice.

"I'd like to bite that nails," he whispers darkly.

Oh my. I am completely unaware that I am biting my nails . My mouth pops open as I gasp and swallow at the same time. That has to be the sexiest thing anybody has ever said to me. My heart beat spikes, and I think I'm panting. Jeez, I'm a quivering, moist mess, and he hasn't even touched me. I squirm in my seat and meet his dark glare.

"Why don't you?" I challenge quietly.

"Because I'm not going to touch you Sarah - not until I have your written consent to do so." His lips hint at a smile.

What?

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I say." He sighs and shakes his head at me, amused, but exasperated too. "I need to show you, Sarah. What time do you finish work this evening?"

"About eight-thirty."

"Well, we could fly to California this evening or next Saturday for dinner at my place, and I'll acquaint you with the facts then. The choice is yours."

"Why can't you tell me now?" I sound petulant.

"Because I'm enjoying my breakfast and your company. Once you're enlightened, you probably won't want to see me again."

Holy shit. What does that mean? Does he white-slave small children to some God-forsaken part of the planet? Is he part of some underworld crime syndicate? It would explain why he's so rich. Is he deeply religious? Is he impotent? Surely not, he could prove that to me right now. Oh my. I flush scarlet thinking about the possibilities. This is getting me nowhere. I'd like to solve the riddle that is of the Jace I once knew sooner rather than later. If it means that whatever secret he has is so gross that I don't want to know him any more then, quite frankly, it will be a relief. Don't lie to yourself - my subconscious yells at me- it'll have to be pretty bloody bad to have you running for the hills.

"Tonight."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Like Eve, you're so quick to eat from the tree of knowledge," he smirks.

"Are you smirking at me, Mr. Alicanté ?" I ask sweetly. Pompous ass.

He narrows his eyes at me and picks up his Samsung Galaxy S8+. He presses one number.

"Sorry, Jace, I'm not going without my friend. "

"Izzy? " he questioned.

"Yes! "

He sighed. "You never go anywhere without her. " he rolled his eyes childishly. You girls haven't change, a bit, fuck.

I grin sheepishly.

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