Total Submission(9)

Cam’s driver is waiting outside. He shifts, looking awkward.

“Eddie?” I ask, confused. “What are you doing here?”

He clears his throat. “Mr. McCullough sent me to collect you. I’ve already taken your belongings to the penthouse.”

“Collect me?” I echo. “Wait, you took my things?” I’m angry. “How the hell did you get in? What gives you the right?”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie looks totally uncomfortable. “I’m just following orders, ma’am. If you come with me, you can talk to Mr. McCullough yourself.”

My heart pounds. See Cam again? I can’t. I remember the last time we met all too well. The way he seduced me in the bathroom at that restaurant, reawakening the desire I thought I’d dampened down for good. His hands on my body, his sexy Scottish accent commanding in my ear. Feeling his fingers inside me took me to the brink in a moment, like only he knows how to do. It was insanely hot, so intense I could have come right there.

But you didn’t. You got out, and saved yourself the heartache.

Now, what he’s proposing is madness. The two of us… alone in his apartment…

I can’t take the risk again. It’s crazy. I have my ticket all booked, I should just slam the door in Eddie’s face and leave for the airport without turning back.

But something makes me pause.

I need to get my things, I bargain with myself. I can keep it together that long, surely?

“The car is waiting downstairs.” Eddie stands aside.

Reluctantly, I lock up and follow him out.

* * *

By the time we pull up outside Cam’s building, my trepidation has turned into blazing anger. What gives Cam the right to summon me like this? To just steal my bags and send his driver to collect me like I’m a piece of property he can demand at will? Our contract is over; I’m not his sub anymore. And I’m sick of being treated like a toy by everybody.

I charge out of the elevator and through the front door.

“Cam!” I call, furious. “Where are you? Cameron McCullough, answer me!”

But he doesn’t. The apartment is silent.

Confused, I head for the guest bedroom where I slept the last time I stayed. But my things aren’t in here. It’s as tidy and impersonal as a hotel room.

Where has he put everything?

I search the apartment, my anger growing. I don’t have time for these games, not with a plane to catch. And even though I hate to admit it, I’m disappointed he’s not here to greet me either. As much as I’m nervous about his effect on me, my heart aches to see him again.

Finally, I reach his bedroom. It’s his personal sanctuary, off-limits without invitation. Even when I was staying here with him, I was hardly ever allowed to set foot inside, and I feel a rebellious surge as I fling open the door.

I stop dead.

My things are here, all of them. Unpacked and arranged with care, like they’ve been here all along. Like they belong in this room.

My photo album and perfume bottles sit on the dresser, my clothes hanging neatly beside his suits in the huge walk-in dressing room.

He’s even folded up my favorite throw blanket and laid it across the foot of the bed.

Suddenly, it’s not Cam’s room anymore. It’s our room.

Sadness hits me like an anvil.

This is what it would look like, sharing my life with him. Waking up every morning in this bed – together. Going to sleep in each other’s arms at night.

My body floods with longing, for the life I’ll never have.

I sink onto the bed and look around at my things so proudly displayed in Cam’s personal space. For the first time, I wonder what it would be like to stop running away.

Stop the lies, and the fear, and the pain. Stop turning my back on my problems, and face them head on.

But how can I? Brent still knows the truth about me, and you can bet he wouldn’t hesitate to use it the minute he finds out I’m with Cam again.

At least if I run, I’ll be a thousand miles away when the truth comes out.

I reluctantly get up. Scanning the room one last time, my gaze falls on the polished dresser table. There’s a note there, and a key.

Come upstairs.

A shiver runs through me. His playroom on the top floor. He’s given me the key. He’s inviting me into his most private retreat.

I should drop the key and go. Take advantage of my head start, skip town before anyone realizes I’m missing. Because this new life I need? It starts now. All I have to do is turn around, collect my things and walk out that door.

But I know what this key represents, what the room represents. This means everything to him. How can I refuse?

In a daze, I go into the hallway and climb the stairs. My hand trembles with excitement as I reach to slide my key into the lock at the top.