Taking It All(17)

Tate smiled, though he could feel the tightness in his features. Yes,   Joss and Kylie were Chessy's best friends, and as such, he supposed they   shared everything. Too much for Tate's liking. It was obvious that not   only his wife's closest friends had been scrutinizing his marriage but   also Dash and Jensen. A fact that didn't sit well with Tate. He was a   very private person and the idea of his personal life being the topic  of  conversation, not to mention judgment, of others dug under his skin.

But in this case the truth hurt and if he wasn't so guilty of neglecting   his wife then the scrutiny of others wouldn't hit so close to home  with  him. It was a cross he had to bear. But he'd be damned if he hung  his  head when in the company of Chessy's friends. His friends. They  weren't  just his wife's friends. Hell, he'd inserted himself into  Dash's  relationship with Joss when Dash had nearly blown everything all  to  hell. Tate had been furious with Dash, rightfully so, but the  hypocrisy  that was so evident was appalling.

He and Dash went way back. As had their relationship with Carson, Joss's   first husband. Only Jensen was new to the mix, but all evidence  pointed  to him being a solid addition to the close-knit group of  friends. He  made Kylie happy, and of all people, Kylie deserved  happiness.

"I'm sure they aren't worried," Tate said in a reassuring tone. "The   fact that they haven't heard from you is good, wouldn't you think? If   things had gone badly, you would have called them. I'm sure they take   silence as a good thing. They likely think we're still in bed, and were   it not for the fact that I promised you a do-over of dinner, that's   exactly where we would be right now."

Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink and her eyes blazed with   quick desire. It made him want to haul her right out of the restaurant   and not stop until they were back home in their bed, her naked and   underneath him.

"You're right," she admitted. "They were just so worried about me." Her   features twisted and she grimaced with her admission. "Lord knows I  gave  them cause to worry. I seriously thought my marriage was over."

Tate's gut clenched and it took everything he had to sit there in a   semblance of a relaxed posture as she stated so matter-of-factly that   she'd thought their marriage was over. Unable to keep from touching her,   he reached for her hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a tender   kiss to the inside of her palm.

"Never that, baby. I can only say, again, how sorry I am for not putting you first. But I won't make that mistake again."

"Let's not rehash it all over again," she said, her lips in a determined   line. "Let's put it behind us where it belongs and start over from   right here and now."

"Now that sounds like an excellent plan," he said in satisfaction.   "Would you like dessert? I know what I want, and it's not on the menu."

She flushed again as she let her hand drop from his hold. Then she shook her head. "I'd rather go home," she whispered.

Tate held up a hand for the distant waiter before the words were fully   out of her mouth. He handed the server his credit card and watched as he   hurried away to total the bill. He drummed his fingers impatiently on   the table as he waited for the check to return. The minute the waiter   reappeared, Tate scrawled the tip, added it to the amount and then   hastily signed the slip, shoving it aside as he stood.

He hovered over Chessy, helping her to her feet as she collected her   purse, and then he guided her toward the exit to the parking lot where   he ushered her into the passenger seat of his car.                       
       
           



       

He immediately reached for her hand, anchoring it to his in the console   between the two seats. Something so small and seemingly insignificant  as  her touch was something he'd missed. Not until now had he realized  just  how much he'd missed seeing her, talking to her, touching her. No   amount of money or financial security was worth the loss of her love.

"I love you," he said, glancing briefly in her direction.

Her warm smile of complete happiness took his breath away.

Already he was planning their evening at home. Reasserting his dominance   was something he knew she wanted but was difficult for him. Because  for  all practical purposes it should be him on his knees in  supplication  before her, begging her forgiveness all over again, not  her kneeling in  submission before him.

But his dominance was not something she just wanted. It was a need. For   both of them. And getting back to the roots of their relationship was   essential for peace of mind for both of them. It was important that   Chessy felt safe and secure in their marriage once more. Tate would do   whatever necessary to ensure her happiness.

When they pulled into the concrete drive, Tate came to a stop outside   the garage where Chessy's Mercedes SUV was parked and he cut the engine.

When she would have opened her door to get out, he squeezed her hand to hold her in place.

"Go inside to the bedroom. Undress and kneel on the carpet in front of   the fireplace and wait for me," he said, injecting a note of authority   into his tone.

Her eyes widened, hope spreading like wildfire through her expression,   and then her eyes became half-lidded as smoldering desire replaced her   momentary surprise. She expelled a soft sigh, one of relief as though   she'd waited for just this event. The moment when he retook the reins in   their relationship. Shame crawled up his neck and spread over his   chest, tightening until he could barely draw breath. No wife, regardless   of whether she was in a position of submissiveness or not, should ever   be faced with a failure of a husband.

When he loosened his grip on her hand, giving her silent permission to   go, she fumbled with her seatbelt and hurriedly got out of her seat. He   followed her up the short sidewalk to their front door and unlocked it   before pushing it open for her to precede him.

He purposely delayed, giving her time to go into the bedroom and ready   herself. And well, he had to mentally prepare himself for what lay ahead   because it was difficult for him to be commanding and authoritative   when all he wanted was to cherish her, wrap her in his tenderness and   make up for all the pain he'd caused her.

While he could bring himself to command her and to delight in her   submissiveness, there was no way in hell he'd touch her precious skin   with a crop or his hand. Even the beauty of pleasurable pain had lost   its luster and for the time being he couldn't swallow the thought of   indulging in something that had before always brought them immeasurable   satisfaction. There would be no blurring the line between pleasure and   pain tonight. He wanted only to bring her pleasure. To reestablish  their  emotional connection by reforging the physical bonds between  them.

When enough time had passed that he could be assured she would be   prepared for him, he walked slowly to the bedroom, holding his breath in   anticipation of his first glimpse of her. Beautiful. Naked. Kneeling  in  magnificent submission as she waited for him and his command.

His pulse accelerated as he pushed open the already ajar door and then he saw her.

His breath left in one long exhalation and he was suddenly unsteady on   his feet. He gripped the frame of the door until his knuckles were white   as his gaze slowly traversed her beautiful body.

She was the picture-perfect image of complete submission. Kneeling on   the soft rug in front of the fireplace, her body silhouetted by the   light shining from the bathroom, his wife rested, awaiting him. His   command. But speech escaped him. He could barely form a coherent thought   much less put to words a description that did her any justice.

Long flowing hair fell down her back, a section artfully arranged over   one shoulder and playing an erotic game of peekaboo with one dusky pink   nipple. His mouth watered as he imagined tasting the twin peaks.  Running  his tongue over the puckered ridges and sucking them until they  were  hard and aching.

He could almost hear her low moan of pleasure. It only brought home to   him just how long he'd gone without hearing the sounds of her   satisfaction. How remiss he'd been in providing the pleasure she   deserved.

"Forgive me, Chessy," he whispered in a voice he knew she wouldn't hear.   It wasn't as though he didn't feel she deserved the plea for   forgiveness, but he was determined to forge ahead and not bring yet   another reminder of how much he'd failed her. Not tonight when so much   promised to be right. Finally right again.