Protege(62)

“It’s going to hurt,” she said softly, fear twisting her belly.

“Yes.”

How could he do this? How could he hurt her when he’d said he never would? “I’ll fight back.”

His eyes narrowed with all the surety in the world. “No, you won’t.” He placed the paddle on the counter. “When you’ve dealt with your fear and come to terms with my decision, come find me. I want to forgive you, Collette, but you’re not allowing us to put the issue to rest. This is what you signed up for. I refuse to sit here and debate my conditions.”

“But . . . what should I do?”

“You want to argue about my edicts? You decide.” With that, he exited the kitchen, leaving her there, stark naked beside the chair and the paddle.

Should she dress? Start prepping dinner? Her eyes drifted to the paddle and back to the door. Slowly, she lifted the wood and tapped it against her hand. Looking over her shoulder, she gently smacked her butt with it. That wasn’t too bad. Glancing back at the door, she walked to the oven and stashed the paddle inside.

She prepped everything for dinner, seasoning the fish and chopping potatoes, slicing tomatoes and garnishing them with fresh basil. The fish would only take a few minutes to bake. They usually ate around five thirty, so she decided to shower. Popping the potatoes into a pot of water, she went to freshen up.

On her way back to the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in a simple blue tunic dress, she slowly passed the library. Jude was at his desk going over papers. He seemed totally unconcerned with her whereabouts.

She mashed the potatoes and preheated the oven for the fish, remembering at the last moment to grab the paddle out of the oven. She stashed it in the pantry between the cereal boxes. After setting the table and filling the glasses, she waited. The fish was about ready, and Jude had yet to make an appearance.

Deciding to go find him, she walked to the library and quietly knocked. “Come in.”

She waited at the door, but he didn’t look up from what he was reading. “Dinner will be ready in five minutes.”

“I’ll eat later. Thank you.”

His words hit her like a punch, cold dread tightening her shoulders. Thinking of anything she could possibly say to persuade him, she frantically tried to understand what his refusal to eat with her meant.

“You may return to the kitchen.”

Dismissed and wounded, she slowly stepped out of the room. When she returned to the kitchen, the fish was ready. She pulled it from the oven and stared at the two fillets. Unsure what to do, she made up their plates and covered his with foil. When she sat at the table, she simply stared at her dinner, no longer having an appetite.

Wrapping her plate as well, she placed it in the fridge beside his and did the dishes. Guilt and confusion gnawed at her as she thought over the day’s events. All of this because of her temper tantrum. This was what they meant when they called subs brats. She’d acted like a petulant child, taking her sour mood out on Jude when he’d done nothing out of the ordinary or unexpected.

She resented him for her own expectations, beliefs that events would naturally occur when he’d never promised such things. Jude had been very understanding and caring with her, and she’d gotten greedy with his generous patience. They were not true lovers. This was all training, a process to better identify her true partner. When would she get that through her thick head?

Once the kitchen was clean, she went to the pantry and removed the paddle. She sat for a long time in the silent kitchen, holding the weighted board in her hands. No one had ever spanked her before that she could recall. It wasn’t easy to voluntarily surrender to a punishment that would inflict pain. She didn’t like pain, not the kind that came with intent to punish. There could be good pain, but this was different.

“Collette.”

Her head jerked up as he startled her. “I . . .” She didn’t know what to say. “Would you like your dinner now?”

He nodded and stepped into the kitchen. She worked quickly to reheat his supper and eagerly watched as he ate.

“This is quite delicious. Thank you.”

“Can I get you more tea?” She stepped toward the pitcher.

“No, thank you.”

“I have more potatoes if you—”

“This will be enough. Thank you.”

Her mouth opened and closed as she scrambled for any words that might bridge the distance. “Did you miss dinner to punish me?”

He carefully wiped his mouth on the linen napkin and folded it on his plate. “On the contrary, there’s no punishment if the system fails. You’ve removed my authority by rejecting my decision. If my role is blurred, unfortunately, so is yours. It’s a give-and-take dynamic, Collette.” He stood. “Thank you for dinner.”

She stared as he left, despising the silence in his absence. He’d eaten, complimented her cooking, but something was missing. Her guilt didn’t make room for pride, and all his praise slipped away.

Shutting off the kitchen light, she wandered through the hall. It was late, nearly nine o’clock. When she found the library dark, she frowned. A sense of being forgotten stole over her so swiftly it knocked the breath out of her. He’d gone to bed without her, without saying good night or telling her it was time to go to her room?

It struck her then just how necessary this ritual of consequence and forgiveness was to a man like Jude. It would be the same for many other Doms as well. She’d been very pampered and adored over the past few weeks. Perhaps this was one of the drawbacks.