“I do understand, Dash,” she said quietly. “I understand far more than you think.”
His brow furrowed. “Have you been going to The House before tonight?”
She shook her head. “No. This was my first night.”
“Jesus Christ, Joss. What the hell? Do you have any idea what might have happened to you if I hadn’t been there? There is no way in hell I’m allowing you to go back to that place. You don’t belong there.”
Her lips quivered and then she seemed to mentally shake herself. She steeled her features and leveled a firm stare at him.
“I know exactly what I was doing. You don’t understand, Dash. You’d never understand.”
“Try me,” he challenged.
She stared at him a long moment, her eyes uncertain, almost as if she were trying to decide whether to trust him. He was on edge, because damn it, he wanted her to be able to come to him for anything. Anything at all. And he wanted her trust.
Then she closed her eyes and sank onto the couch, sitting forward, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook and it was all he could do not to go to her. Not to comfort and hold her and tell her everything would be all right. But he waited. Because whatever she had to tell him he sensed was huge. And that it would forever change the way he looked at her. At any possibility of them being together.
She lifted her head, her eyes swimming in tears. “I loved Carson with all my heart and soul. He was my soul mate. I know that. And I know I’ll never find that kind of love again.”
Dash’s breath caught and held because that wasn’t something he wanted to hear. That she’d resigned herself to a loveless existence because she didn’t think another man would ever love her as Carson had. When in fact, Dash was that man. He already loved her—had loved her forever—and given the opportunity, he’d show her that she damn well could find another man who’d give her his everything.
“Carson gave me everything I could ever possibly want or ask for. Except . . .”
She broke off and looked down again, her shoulders sagging in defeat.
“Except what, Joss?” Dash asked softly, puzzled by her statement. He knew damn well Carson would have given her the moon. Anything that was in his power to provide Joss, he would have done absolutely.
“Dominance,” Joss whispered.
Dash’s nape prickled and a curl of . . . hope? quivered through his veins. His pulse raced and he had to calm himself and clarify that he’d heard her correctly. Because there was a whole lot he didn’t understand.
“Dominance?”
She nodded. Then she looked up at him, misery clouding her beautiful eyes. “You know how he grew up. What he endured. How he and Kylie were horribly abused. In the beginning, when we first met, we talked about my . . . need. What I thought I needed and wanted. And he wouldn’t—couldn’t—bring himself to do anything that could possibly be construed as abuse. He worried constantly that somehow he would inherit his father’s abusive nature, that it was somehow genetic, and he’d die before ever doing anything to hurt me. As if he would! It was why he was reluctant to have children. He wanted them. God, he wanted them and so did I. It’s my biggest regret that I didn’t have his child, a part of him to live on now that I’ve lost him. But he was so terrified that he’d abuse his own children.”
The last part came out in a sob and Dash could no longer keep his distance. He crossed the room, sat on the couch next to her and pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest as he ran his hands through her hair.
“Carson would never hurt you or his children,” Dash said with absolute confidence.
Joss pulled away, her tear-filled eyes gutting Dash. “I know that. You know that. But he didn’t. And I couldn’t convince him of that. His father messed him up, Dash. Him and Kylie both. They never recovered from all he had done to them and it affected them well into their adult life. It still affects Kylie. When I told her what I planned to do, she freaked.”
“I’d like to hear what it was you planned as well, Joss,” Dash prompted gently. “What was tonight all about?”
Joss turned away, clenching her fingers into tight fists. “I know you think I don’t have a clue what I was getting into, Dash, but I’m not stupid. I didn’t just up and decide to go to The House. It’s something I’ve thought about and researched for months. I talked with Damon Roche a lot. He wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into and that I wasn’t making a hasty, emotional decision.”
Well, thank God for that. Damon was a solid guy. He may run an establishment that catered to every conceivable kink or fetish, but he took it very seriously and he vetted his members very carefully.