“That’s true.”
With a smirk, I asked, “Driven many Hondas, have you?”
William grinned as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “No. Actually I haven’t.” He cut his eyes over to mine. “I’m guessing you want to hear something like my maid drives one.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“You know not all wealthy people are pretentious, unfeeling assholes.”
“I never said that.”
“You alluded to it.”
“I guess I’m being unfair by stereotyping.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Then I’m sorry.”
William flashed me a smile. “Wow, admitting you’re wrong and an apology. This is a momentous occasion.”
“Ass.”
We pulled into the packed parking lot of Café Lumiere. Glancing down at my clothes, I asked, “Are you sure we’re dressed for this place?”
“Saturday mornings are pretty casual.”
Before I could get my door open, William was already around the front of the truck to get me out. “Are you always this way, or is it just because you’re buttering me up in hopes I’ll spank you again?”
William chuckled as he eased me down out of the truck and onto my feet. “I’m always this way, but normally my Dommes don’t have a problem with it.”
Inwardly, I bristled at the mention of his other Dommes. Although I had no right to feel possessive, I didn’t like the thoughts of him with Calla or any other women for that matter. “I’m not your Domme.”
He ignored my comment and offered me the crook of his arm. “You can lean on me.”
Since my foot was hurting and I was tired of arguing with him, I slipped my arm through his. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.’
The wait stand was outside at the front door. “Would you prefer inside or outside?” the hostess inquired.
William raised his brows at me. “Outside.”
She led us to a somewhat secluded table. “Enjoy,” she said as she handed us two menus.
Ever the gentlemanly sub, William pulled the chair out for me. I bit my tongue to keep from arguing that this wasn’t 1950, and I wasn’t his Domme. Instead, I picked up my menu and starting perusing the contents.
Our waiter appeared with two glasses of water. When he got a good look at William, his eyes practically bugged out of his head. “How are we today?”
“Fine,” I answered, even though he didn’t give two shits about what I had to say.
“Actually, could I bother you for a bag of ice for a hurt ankle?” William asked.
The waiter batted his eyelashes at William. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
When he scurried off, I snorted. “I guess you get that all the time.”
“Get what?”
“Fawned over by both women and men.”
He grinned. “Like you don’t have the same problem.” Leaning forward in his chair, William said, “I bet you have a horde of men and women wanting to submit to you at the club.”
“The club is one thing while real life is another.”
William gave me an odd look. “Aren’t they the same?”
“Not for me.”
The waiter returned with an ice pack intricately wrapped in a linen napkin. William graciously thanked him and then handed it to me. The waiter’s expression instantly soured when he realized it wasn’t for William. With a sigh, he took out his leather envelope. “What can I get you guys this morning?”
“I’ll have a mimosa and the strawberry crepes,” I said.
William met my eyes. “I’ll have the same. But I’d also like two eggs scrambled.”
The waiter nodded. “I’ll be back with your drinks.”
“Now that we’re alone, there’s a question I’m dying to ask.”
“Okay.”
“What made a football-playing, trust fund baby like you get into the scene?”
William chuckled after taking a sip of water. “I guess at the basic level, it started with control. After my mom died, I seemed to always have to be in control of myself and my emotions. The older I got, the more responsibility I seemed to have. There was something within me that wanted to be able to let all that go—even if it was for a short time.”
“Mmm, you’re the classic case of the overachieving professional who needs to give up control and be bossed around.”
“You sound disappointed.”
I laughed. “I guess I hoped for a more illicit story like you got off on your nanny spanking you.”
William grimaced. “My nanny was sixty-years-old.”
“Maybe a granny fetish?”
“Hell no.”
“When was your first experience with BDSM?”
“I was nineteen, and I started dating a girl who had Domme tendencies—she liked to tie me up and spank me and tell me what to do to her. I started to really get off on it—like I realized something had been missing before. We went to a club just as a joke, but it ended up opening both of our eyes to the world that was out there. We dated for a few years before breaking up. After that, clubs have always been the way I met my girlfriends.”
“Girlfriends? You sound like quite the player.”
William snorted with amusement. “No, Sophie, I’m not a player. I can still count on one hand the women and Dommes I’ve been with.”
“Just five, huh?”
“You can call me Mr. Monogamy.”
“Oh, I see.” I couldn’t help feeling slightly relieved that he was in monogamy and relationships. “Would I be number six?”
William’s expression became sheepish. “My number is defined by actual sex.”
“Ah, that pesky penetration thing again, huh?”
He grinned. “Exactly. Now it’s your turn. How did you get into the lifestyle?”
“I didn’t.” At his furrowing brow, I said, “I mean, I’m not in the lifestyle. Being a Domme is just my job, not who I am.”
“You don’t ever participate in BDSM outside of 1740?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
Both confusion and disappointment flashed in William’s eyes. “You’re just a professional Domme?”
“For the last five years. But yesterday was my last day at 1740.”
William frowned. “I can’t believe it. I guess I should have known when you said you didn’t receive pleasure from subs. I just assumed you were like…”
“Calla?” When he nodded, I asked, “Don’t tell me you’re feeling slighted that you spent time with someone who wasn’t a lifestyle Domme?”
“No. It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
The waiter returned with our drinks. William took such a hearty gulp of his mimosa that he almost drained it. When I continued to stare expectantly at him, he sighed. “Since I got involved in the lifestyle thirteen years ago, I haven’t had a non D/s relationship. I’m not sure what a regular relationship looks like anymore.”
When I realized what he was alluding to, I stared down at my lap. The way I felt about him was such a jumbled mess that I didn’t know how to respond. “Oh.”
“Hmm, have my unwanted overtures made the usually mouthy Domme speechless?”
I tore my gaze away from my hands to look at him. “I’m sorry, but you did take me a little off guard. This entire day has taken me off guard…more than anything, you take me off guard.”
“I do?”
“Of course you do. I’ve never let myself go with a sub before. Even though what you did to me physically was the greatest sexual experience of my life, I could have easily walked away from you. But emotionally…”
“So you’re feeling it too?”
“Yes and no. Maybe.” I rubbed my forehead. “I don’t know what I feel, except confused as hell. In the last couple of years, I haven’t had any relationships, period, least of all one in the scene.”
William crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I find it hard to believe that a woman as beautiful and sexy as you are hasn’t been serious with anyone in years.”
“Aren’t you the flatterer?” I teased.
In a low voice, William replied, “A good sub always compliments his Mistress.”
“And you’re an extreme rule-follower when it serves your purpose. Tell me, were you a Boy Scout growing up?”
William gave a bark of a laugh. “No, smart-ass, I wasn’t. And I wasn’t giving you false compliments. I meant every word I said.”
Our crepes arrived then, and I happily dug in to avoid any further relationship talk. Unfortunately, William wasn’t letting it go. “Just out of curiosity, how long are we talking time wise when it comes to your last relationship?”
My knife pierced a plump strawberry. I didn’t have to stop to calculate the time in my head. The date was pretty emblazoned on my mind. “Three years, five months, and ten days ago.”
William’s lips crinkled in an amused smile. “Hmm, you must’ve gotten burned pretty badly if you can remember the exact date.”
I traced the rim of my champagne flute with my finger. “Some things you just don’t forget.” Pinching my eyes closed, I tried to shut out the voice echoing through my mind. “Jesus, Sophie, all you do is give and give to your father. One day soon he’s going to die, and then where will you be? All by yourself.”