Letting Go (Surrender Trilogy #1)(39)

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight, burying her face in his neck.

“What I think you are is perfect. So perfect that I wonder if you aren’t too good to be true. Not just this situation but you.”

“I think we’re on the same page here,” Dash said with a smile. “We seem to be saying the same things but perhaps in a slightly different way. But we both want the same things. You want to be happy and you want me to be happy in our relationship. And conversely, I want you to be happy, first and foremost, because trust me, honey. You being happy will make me extremely happy.”

She let out the air from her lungs in a long exhale.

“I want this, Dash. I’m ready to dive in and take the plunge. I’ll be honest. I don’t know if I can stand a few days with you walking on eggshells and me never knowing when it all begins. I’m ready now.”

“Then what I want you to do while I’m getting your suitcases from the car is to undress. Take your time and use the bathroom. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable and at ease. I want you naked the entire evening. I want to cook you a special meal and feed you by my own hand. And I want to enjoy the sight of your gorgeous body while I’m doing this for you. And then, when we’re done eating and ready to think about bed? Then we’ll go to bed together and see if you’re every bit as sweet and f**king sexy as you are in my dreams. It’s time to make my dreams come true. Mine and yours.”

TWELVE

JOSS surveyed her reflection in the mirror and winced at the stark fear in her eyes. They were wide and it was obvious that she was jittery as hell.

Naked. He wanted her naked, and God, but that made her utterly self-conscious. He expected her to parade around with no clothing. To eat a meal with him. Naked. No barriers, no shield, no protective measures.

It was the height of vulnerability and yet it was also a signal of her trust and her willingness to do as he’d asked, or rather demanded, no matter how gently the demand had been voiced.

She sucked in a deep breath and then ran a brush through her hair, debating whether to leave it down or clip it up. Deciding that leaving it down offered at least a small measure of protection, she set aside the brush and arranged her hair so it fell over her shoulders in the front and covered at least part of her br**sts.

Her ni**les peeked through the strands of her hair though and she wondered if it was in fact a more erotic sight than if she’d pulled her hair up and left her br**sts completely bare.

There was only one way to find out. Leave the refuge of the bathroom, quit hiding like a coward and gauge Dash’s reaction to her nudity.

He’d certainly been blunt about his desire for her. She’d seen the evidence of his arousal in his eyes, in the way he spoke. But then he hadn’t seen her naked. Hadn’t touched her any more intimately than a few caresses to her face and her arms.

Now he would have unfettered access to any part of her body. Her br**sts. Her pu**y. She flinched at the crude term, but there were certainly more vulgar terms for the female anatomy than pu**y. Words she hated. Cunt. That was the worst and she hoped it was a word Dash would never use.

It was silly to be such a prude about her body or how it was referred to. But she couldn’t control her reaction to the harsher words. They brought to mind unpleasant images. Reduced sex to mindless f**king. No intimacy or tenderness. She wanted those things. Needed them.

No matter that she was turning over her body, her soul, to another man. That she wanted to submit and craved a man’s dominance. She still wanted to be treated respectfully, and it was important to her that she wasn’t just a sexual conquest. A woman to be used and then discarded as though she meant nothing.

She wanted to matter. She wanted to feel again as she’d felt when she was married to Carson. Wanted that connection to another man. Maybe she was a fool for even starting down this path. But she’d never know unless she tried, and Dash was a man she did trust. As determined as she’d been to move forward with her decision, the moment the man from The House had approached her, dread had filled her. She’d been uncertain and afraid even as she sought to go through with it.

She now knew that regardless of whether or not Dash had been there and called a halt to the whole mess, she wouldn’t have gone through with it. She would have chickened out and ran, and she would have never gone back.

In a way she was grateful that Dash had been there and that he’d intervened, even as humiliating as she’d found the entire experience. Because it forced his hand. It made him act on long-held desires. And now she could see if this was truly what she wanted, and she could do it with a man she knew would never hurt her.

But there were different kinds of hurt. Not just physical ones. It was the emotional pain she feared the worst. Of somehow messing up a friendship she valued, a friendship she’d desperately clung to after Carson had died.

If she lost Dash too, what would she do?

She shook her head, refusing to go there. She’d procrastinated long enough. If she didn’t get moving, Dash would know she was standing in there wavering. He deserved better than a woman who was having second and third thoughts. She’d agreed to this. She’d been firm in her commitment. She wasn’t backing out now. Or ever.

Gathering her courage, she opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom. Her suitcases were empty and stacked against the far wall. Her eyes widened when she realized he’d unpacked all her belongings and put them away already.