Safeword: Davenport(61)

"Max, I... crap. We do need to talk, but... give me a minute. Here's Brent's SUV, if you can help me up and into the back seat, please?"

She found an almost comfortable position, on her side so she didn't hurt her breasts, back, or ass. Much. Max turned sideways in the front passenger seat.

"I'm sure Brent warned you I'm just beginning to—” She cut herself off, trying to figure out how to begin. “I've dated a little in the past eight or ten months, but it was vanilla."

She briefly told him about Zach, starting with him as her client, and ending with their long weekend, hitting the high spots.

"... so, I guess I panicked. He knows I'm here, was aware I planned to play if I felt good about someone. We haven't promised to be faithful to each other. I'm not cheating. But..."

She paused and he interjected. “It's okay. I do like you, but long distance relationships don't work, and, well, my divorce has only been final six weeks. I'm not ready for a relationship, but you and I shared an intense experience, and I'd like to follow through with aftercare."

Dana smiled. “How did I get lucky enough to find such a nice guy?"

Max laughed. “I just flogged and whipped you until your entire strike zone is beginning to bruise. I'm not sure that qualifies me as nice."

"Of course it does. I wanted it—needed it. If you'd done this to someone who didn't ask for it then you'd deserve to be shown how it feels. But that's not what happened."

She heard Brent's voice, and cool air hit her skin as the interior light came on when the front passenger door opened. Max got out, Jacob was put in.

Max walked around and opened the door near her face, leaning over so she wouldn't have to change positions to see him. “So, is it okay for me to follow? Brent says we can figure sleeping arrangements out later, and if all else fails he has another guest room I can use. I'm not asking for more—"

Dana interrupted. “Yeah, it's fine. I'm staying put; you should get your car so you can follow."

He kissed the top of her head and closed the door before walking around to talk to Brent. She kept her eyes shut, heard doors closing, voices. She wanted to ask Jacob how he was doing, but didn't know if he was ready to talk.

Brent slid into the driver's seat, the car dipping with his weight. She opened her eyes to fight the wave of dizziness it created—her senses still in the state between fuzzy and hyper-alert, and her back and breasts were starting to ache.

"You told Max you're okay with him following us back?"

"Yeah. He's a good guy. I let him know about Zach, because I don't want to lead him on. Oh!” She exclaimed, her brain changing tracks in mid-thought. “Zach. I should text him. Is my purse still on the floorboard?"

"Yep. I'm coming to a stop sign. You want your cellphone?"

"Please. It's in the outside pocket."

She managed a short message. Leaving club. Will call later tmrw

"He didn't tell me to keep him updated, but when I found out he was worried about me—it feels like I should. I don't want to wake him, but if he's got a text when he wakes—"

She was interrupted by her phone ringing, smiled when she saw it was Zach.

"I hope my text didn't wake you."

"No, I'm up late, working. Would it be out of line for me to ask how it went tonight?"

"Mmm. No, but I'm not ready to talk about it yet. I promise I will, but I need time to process it all, first. I can't tell you how I feel about anything until I figure it out.” She sighed. “I may not be driving home tomorrow, though. It might be Monday or Tuesday before I should try."

"Why? Are you hurt?"

Brent spoke from the front seat. “Let me speak to him, Dana."

"No, I can handle this."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind talking to Brent. Please."

She said, “I don't think so,” as she realized it wasn't a bad idea, but stubbornly didn't want to be excluded from the conversation. She sighed and added, “But I'll put you on speakerphone. Hang on."

She held the phone down and touched the icon to switch modes. “You there?"

"Yes."

"Hello, Zach.” Brent said. “How are you at this ungodly hour of the morning?"

"I'm fine. I owe you a big thanks for taking care of Dana."

"You may want to recant that when you see her back, which is why I asked to talk to you. I'd like you to hear it from me."

"What happened?” Dana could hear the cautious restraint in his voice.

"Nothing bad, and I can assure you she enjoyed every minute of it—she was asking for more when he stopped. She took thirty-six strikes of a bullwhip, and I'd guess at least that many of the single-tail, so her back and ass are—"