But when he yanked open the door, his heart stopped because it was Joss standing there, looking pale and fragile, the bruises from her accident still vivid against her skin. Her broken arm was in a sling, hugged protectively against her chest. And there was resolve in her eyes that gutted him.
Her lips were pressed into a thin line and he wanted to yell no! His heart told him that she was here to tell him to go to hell. To stop calling, texting, e-mailing and coming by Chessy and Tate’s house every day. It was no more than he deserved, but he couldn’t bear to hear those words from her lips.
But she was here! Not locked behind the walls of Tate’s house with Tate and Chessy acting as her personal guard dogs. She was in front of him, and here was his chance to humble himself before her and beg her forgiveness.
“Can I come in?” she asked softly when he continued to stand there, stunned, his mind an utter mess of all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t summon.
She looked suddenly vulnerable and doubt crept into those beautiful eyes. Fear. That he’d reject her? That he wouldn’t allow her to come inside her home?
He threw open the door and very nearly swept her into his arms. Only the memory of how fragile she was, how injured she still was and how much pain she still had to be in stopped him. And yet she was here. When she should be in bed. Resting. Getting better.
“Joss,” he croaked out. “God yes, honey. Please. Come in. Let me help you. You shouldn’t be up. You should be in bed. Are you hurting?”
Her lips twisted into a wry smile as she walked into his house. He slammed the door quickly behind her, afraid she’d change her mind, or that she was a manifestation of all his dreams and that she’d disappear as soon as he awakened.
“I took pain medicine half an hour ago,” she said quietly. “It’s why Tate drove me. I didn’t want to risk another accident, and I’m not supposed to drive for a few weeks anyway.”
Guilt slammed into him all over again. He touched her uninjured arm, savoring that brief moment of contact. He wanted to do so much more. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, just be with her, close enough to smell, to touch.
“Come into the living room,” he said quietly. “The couch should be comfortable. I can get the ottoman or you can sit and lean back against the side so you can put your feet up. Are your ribs okay? Is the pain medicine working?”
He was a babbling idiot, but the flood of questions simply wouldn’t stop. He’d never felt so unsure of himself in his life and he hated that she was so quiet.
He took her hand, rejoicing when she didn’t yank it away. He led her to the couch and eased her down, hovering, looking for any sign she was in pain.
She let out a sigh, briefly closing her eyes as she leaned back against the sofa.
“Damn it, you are hurting,” he swore. “Did you bring your pain medicine with you? Should you take another dose?”
“Some hurts can’t be eased with medicine,” she said softly. “I needed to talk to you, Dash. I need this to be . . . resolved. I can’t go on like this. It’s killing me.”
He sank to his knees, gutted by the sadness in her eyes. Gathering her free hand in his, remaining in a position of vulnerability, he stared intently at her.
“Please don’t tell me we’re over, honey. Anything but that. Curse at me. Yell at me. Call me names. You have every right. But please, I’m begging you. Don’t give up on me—us. I love you, Joss. I love you so damn much I can’t sleep at night. I can’t eat. I can’t function. I can’t work. There’s a gaping hole in my heart only you can fill.”
The corner of her mouth quirked up in a half smile. “Kylie says you’re useless at work. She doesn’t even know why you go in because nothing gets done.”
“She’s right,” he said hoarsely. “I need you, Joss. You’re my other half. I’m only whole when I’m with you.”
“I love you too, Dash.”
Relief made him weak. He was so wobbly he could barely maintain his position on his knees. And he’d stay on his knees, begging her forgiveness for as long as it took. He was the Dominant and she was the submissive but right now she held all the power and he held none. Because without her, his strength meant nothing. Without her precious gift of submission, his dominance didn’t mean a damn thing. His life had no meaning.
But something in her gaze stopped him from saying anything in response.
“But that isn’t enough,” she added softly. “You say you love me, but you don’t trust me. And without trust, love isn’t enough. Without trust, we have nothing but lust and sex between us.”