Page 97 of Over the Line
“Do I?” he countered, arms folded. “You stopped by for a quick lay.”
No. It’s not like that. “Sir… We have a misunderstanding.”
“Do we?”
Sydney rubbed at the goose bumps that prickled her skin, telling herself his reaction shouldn’t have surprised her. As they spent more time together, of course he’d make more demands of her. Like Lewis had.
“You show up here whenever the hell it’s convenient for your schedule. Get spanked and fucked, scratch your itch, then go on about your life without looking back.”
“Michael, please…”
“Clearly my mistake for thinking I was anything more than a goddamn convenience to you.” Icy venom dripped from his voice.
Damn it all. “Please…”
He remained unresponsive.
Too late, she recognized they had fallen into a routine, and she loved the hot scenes enough to keep coming back when she shouldn’t have. “Sir…” As her worst nightmare played out, Sydney squeezed her eyes shut. “Michael…” Suddenly unsure what to say, how to behave, she tried once more. “We never talked about anything more than sceneing together.”
“So that’s all you’re offering? Or should I say taking?”
Taking? His accusation stung. “That’s unfair.” She met his gaze then wished she hadn’t when she read the combination of anger and frustration starkly reflected in the stormy depths. But worse was the layer of hurt beneath the other emotions.
In that instant, he crushed her soul.
Softly, trying again, she said, “I never agreed to be your submissive, or anything else. I’ve told you about my past.” Frantically, she tried to make him understand. But his eyes had turned flat. “I…I thought you understood where I was coming from.”
“Then we have nothing more to say to one another.”
“Are you…?” She shook her head, trying to understand what was happening here. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“No?”
She’d waded into an emotional nightmare.
“It’s your way or no way, Sydney. Too damn bad if it doesn’t work for me. If I want something more than a casual fuck before you wave and jump back in your car.”
But she couldn’t give him anything more. Unless she risked everything. “Don’t do this.”
“It’s not enough for me any longer, Sydney.”
Her insides chilled. Almost always, he’d called her by an affectionate nickname. But now, he’d built some distance between them.
“Go on with your life like you want.” Coldly, he hooked a thumb toward the door. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Her thoughts swam, as if caught in a class six rapid. This couldn’t possibly be happening. Couldn’t. “I…” Raw emotion lodged itself in her throat, and she tried desperately to gulp it back. “I apologize…” Tears burning her eyes at his stinging rebuke—rejection—of her, she dashed up the stairs.
He didn’t follow.
At one time, he would have watched her, maybe even given her a spanking to encourage her along, but not now.
Never again.
When she slowly descended the staircase, bag in hand, he was nowhere around.
Her heart heavy, wishing they could talk but also recognizing the futility, she exited his house for the final time.
Hoping against hope that he’d come after her, she took her time crossing to her SUV.