Being Me(Inside Out 02)(12)

“That’s a yes.” My voice is barely audible. And is that what he wants me to be? Am I confused about where we are going? Do I really have any idea at all where we are headed?
“It’s a no, Sara. I’m not Mark. Master and sub was too much commitment for me. I do not want to be responsible for someone’s well-being. Not beyond one session. I got my fix and then quickly moved on.”
His fix. I hate this choice of words. I barely know the man who uses them, who lived them. But it is Chris and it confuses me. “What does that even mean?”
His jaw clenches.
“I need to understand, Chris.”
His lashes lower, the lines of his face hardening. “There are rooms you go to,” he surprises me by explaining. “You can choose to be masked and I do. I don’t want faces and names.”
My mind goes crazy with what might happen in those rooms. “Never?”
“That was my style, Sara. No commitments.”
He didn’t say “never” and I press for more, for how his past affects us now. “And yet I’m here.”
“I told you. I’ve broken all my rules with you.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re you, Sara. There is no other answer.”
The part of me that is never confident, that is never completely convinced this talented and famous man can really want me, struggles with this answer, but yet, I feel this way about him.
He has become my escape and my sanctuary. I think he is telling me he sees me the same way, but I know we are lying to ourselves and each other if we think nothing else matters. “You can’t just shut this all out, Chris. You can’t just meet me and be who you were before. I need to understand it and be a part of it.”
“No. You don’t.”
“But you took me to that club last night. You wanted me to understand.”
“I wanted you to understand where Mark would lead you and why I wasn’t going to let that happen. Rebecca didn’t belong in this world and you’ve read how it tormented her to be here.”
“You told me I don’t belong in this world, either,” I manage, choking on the words.
“You don’t.” His jaw clenches. “Which is why I tried to warn you away and why I tried to walk away.”
My stomach knots. “You still can.” I start to get up, suddenly needing an escape, and this time Chris can’t give it to me.
He shackles my wrists in his hands and pulls me to him, between his legs, on my knees. “That’s just it. I can’t and I don’t want to even try. And I don’t want you to, either.” His expression softens and he brushes his knuckles over my jaw. “You’re inside me now, baby. All the rest was how I stayed outside myself and I’ll be damned if I let it tear us apart.”
I soften instantly at his confession and my hand slides to his face. “It’s the unknown that scares me, Chris. It’s what you need, the pleasure inside the pain, that I can’t possibly understand, and that terrifies me. I need you to make me understand.”
“You do understand, Sara. More than you know. More than I wish you did.” His mouth closes down over mine, hot with demand, and I know he believes this conversation is over, that he means to end it with the wicked caress of his tongue against mine, the possessive splay of his hands on my body. But I refuse to be this powerless, to be silenced with the very passion that drives me to need to understand this man.
“No,” I gasp, and shove against him, breathless as I meet his gaze and demand, “Make me understand, Chris.” And on some level I know this is that unknown place I’ve craved to go with him, that place he hides from me, that place he wants to take me.
This is where we have to go, where we’ve always been headed.

Chapter Five

“You want to understand?” he asks, his voice low, his eyes ripe with challenge.
“It’s not about want. It’s about need, Chris. I need to understand.”
He considers me, his expression impassive, but his pale green eyes shimmer and then burn. “Stand up and take off your clothes, Sara.”
After a moment of hesitation, I decide his command is as close to an agreement as I’m going to get. It’s enough. I stand up and walk to the bottom of the pedestal and Chris shifts to sit against the bed. In spite of this power play he is using on me, or perhaps because of it, there is something wickedly erotic about standing before this man and undressing. This brings my vulnerability back to the forefront. It is an act of trust, and my chest tightens at the implications of giving myself to him, of why he might need me to do this. I think … I think he needs to know that I’m not holding back, that he’s shown me his dark side, and I am still willingly his.