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Taking It All(6)

By:Maya Banks


And then, after a wonderful weekend, with no cell phones, business shit   or anything else, she'd wanted to very carefully broach the subject of   her growing unhappiness.

Damn him for forcing her hand after the debacle that was their anniversary.

"I don't want out of our marriage, Tate. I want our marriage to change,"   she said firmly, proud that she was able to lay it out without   faltering or breaking down into tears.

Tate gave her another look filled with utter confusion and then swore   when he nearly veered into the other lane. He yanked the wheel, righting   them and avoiding a collision-barely.

"Just drive," she said wearily. "This isn't something we should be   discussing in a damn car. We'll talk about it when we get home."

She wanted to weep over the fact that she was giving all the commands.   She was issuing the orders. This wasn't the way their relationship was   supposed to work and yet he was forcing her to take control. She could   positively feel the power shift in their relationship and it wasn't   something that gave her any satisfaction.                       
       
           



       





Three


TATE pulled into the driveway of their house that was in an exclusive   gated community in a suburb of Houston. He glanced sideways at Chessy,   something he'd been doing all the way home despite her short directive   to just drive and they'd talk later.

The evidence of tears-more tears than just from the restaurant, which   meant she'd been crying on the way home-ravaged her delicate features.   It was like being sucker punched and having no idea how to respond to   the attack.

He was absolutely useless when Chessy cried. He hated to see her unhappy   and he'd move heaven and earth to fix whatever was making her unhappy.

But hell, apparently it was him who was making her unhappy. What the   hell did he do about that? He was utterly baffled by Chessy's outburst.   For one horrible moment he'd thought she was telling him she wanted a   divorce.

He hadn't been able to breathe for the terror gripping him. The thought of being without Chessy? It didn't bear thinking about.

"Come inside so we can talk, baby," he said in a low voice that was   almost pleading. Hell, it was pleading. He was damn near begging.

She stared ahead, her gaze fixed on the windshield, never wavering. It was like looking at an ice sculpture.

"Chessy," he prompted. "Please come inside with me. There's a lot I   don't understand right now. I need my girl to talk to me so I can fix   this."

Slowly she turned, her eyes swamped with so much hurt that an invisible   hand clutched Tate by the throat and squeezed until he could barely   breathe. Where had things gone wrong? How could he not have seen this   coming?

Yes, he'd noticed that she'd been different in the past year, but she'd   never given him any hint that she was unhappy or that he wasn't   satisfying her. She always had a bright smile, warm with love for him.   She was always understanding when he was called away for business when   they were together. Her difference had been a moment's puzzlement   quickly swept aside by her sunny smile and sweet disposition.

Had it all been a lie? Or was he just completely blind to his wife's dissatisfaction?

"Do you want to fix it?" she asked in a challenging tone. "Seriously,   Tate. Do you even care? Do you want to fix what's wrong or do you just   want things to continue on like normal? You leaving get-togethers with   our friends. You receiving phone calls at all hours of the evening-after   work, mind you. We can't even make love for that damn phone going off,   and you're so tied to it that one would think if you actually let it  go  for an hour that the world would end."

Tate sucked in his breath at the bitterness in her voice. The hurt   crowding into her face and bleeding over into her impassioned statement.   Or rather her question. Did he want to fix it? Of course he did. But   first he had to know what the hell he was supposed to fix.

He reached across the seat to take her hand, half afraid-okay a lot   afraid-that she'd recoil, that she would refuse to let him touch her.   She went rigid but didn't yank her hand away. He gently pried her   fingers apart with his thumb and then laced their hands before lifting   hers to his mouth as he leaned over.

"Listen to me, baby. I love you. You mean the world to me. Always have.   Do I want to fix things? Damn right, I do. But first I have to know  what  I'm up against. And that means that we have to go inside and you  have  to talk to me. Will you do that, please?"

His words felt all wrong. His entire demeanor since the night had ended   in shambles had not been him. Nor was it indicative of his relationship   with Chessy. She was his. In every way that counted. She'd gifted him   with her absolute submission, and as her Dominant-and the man who loved   her with all his heart-his responsibility was to cherish her, protect   her gift, ensure her happiness.

He felt like a complete failure. He hadn't been dominant tonight. Chessy   had been in control, dishing out commands to him when he was usually   the one giving her instructions. It was the way their relationship   worked. Always had.

And yet tonight? Hell, thinking back, it went way beyond just tonight.   When was the last time he'd truly exerted his dominance? He used to   control every aspect of Chessy's life. It may seem extreme to someone on   the outside looking in, but it was what worked for them. He wanted her   submission and she wanted his dominance. She'd never shied away from  his  control. Never protested. Never gave any sign she was anything but   happy with their agreement.

But when had he last demonstrated that dominance?

It was a sad testament that he couldn't even remember. Couldn't point to   a time or moment over the last year when he'd acted as her Dominant.                       
       
           



       

The pieces were coming together in his mind, and he didn't like what he   was seeing. He hated the idea that he'd failed Chessy. Miserably. She   was unhappy, and his girl was always happy. She lit up a room like a   million rays of sunshine. She had such a tender, loving heart and she   spread that love to everyone she encountered.

People were always at ease with Chessy. It was why he'd made certain to   bring her to dinners with prospective and current clients because she   made others relax, be more open. She was like a magnet, drawing people   to her effervescent personality. Later he'd worried that keeping up with   his pace was too much for her, and he never wanted her to feel the   pressures of his job. That was his to bear. Never hers. So he'd told her   he wanted her to back off. Spend time with her friends instead of   always planning a social gathering.

And now the light had gone out in her beautiful eyes. All because of him and his dismal failure to provide for her needs.

He tightened his grip on Chessy's hand, waiting for her response. She   was taking way too long to respond, her brow wrinkled as if she was   waging some kind of internal war. God, whatever it was, let him come out   the victor and let her acquiesce to his plea to talk this out.

"I'll talk," Chessy finally said.

But her tone was fatalistic. Like she'd already decided the outcome   after they discussed their relationship and why she was so unhappy. Had   she lost that much faith in him? The idea devastated him.

"But it has to be in neutral territory," she added. "We have no business   having sex with this wall between us. I don't want our physical   attraction to hinder our discussion." Her gaze swept downward, sorrow   creasing her face and tugging her lips into a sad frown. "That's   assuming you even still want me," she said in a tone tinged with grief.   "It's been so long since you've instigated any sort of sex that the   reasonable conclusion is you no longer desire me or find me attractive."

Tate damn near swallowed his tongue as protests immediately formed on   his lips. Goddamn it but there was so much wrong with her statements   that he didn't even know where to begin.

They never used the word sex when it came to their lovemaking. Never.   Sex was for people not emotionally involved to the degree Chessy and   Tate were. At least that was his thinking on the matter.

And not want her? He was flabbergasted. What could he have possibly done   to plant such a ridiculous notion in her head? She was the most   beautiful woman in the world to him. Other women? Simply didn't exist.   How could he want for more when he had a gorgeous, loving, generous,   tenderhearted submissive wife he came home to every day?