Page 131 of Not Safe For Work

“Hey.”

My heart dropped into my stomach, and my stomach dropped into my feet.

Rick. The last person on earth I could face right then. But what choice did I have?

Shame and guilt burning in my throat, I turned around. “Hey.”

“How are you?” He lifted his eyebrows—it wasn’t just benign small talk. After last night, I supposed he had every right to be concerned.

If you only knew…

“I’m still dragging, I guess. I’ll be all right.” I forced a laugh. “Maybe I’m getting too old to handle clubs.”

Rick didn’t laugh. For a long moment, he studied me. Then he folded his arms, but quickly lowered them, as if he’d realized a second too late that it made him look defensive. “Something’s obviously wrong. What is it?”

I don’t even know where to start. If I told you—

I cleared my throat. “I’m all right. Honestly.”

“Does top drop usually last this long?”

“I haven’t had it in a while. It…” One by one, the potential rationalizations died when they reached my tongue. Rick wasn’t stupid, and every attempt I made to pull the wool over his eyes was an insult, not to mention a violation of the trust this kind of relationship depended on.

I sighed. “Look, it’ll pass. Just…just be patient with me.”

“Of course I will. It’s not impatience.” He lifted his hand slightly, then lowered it and glanced around, as if he’d nearly reached for me before remembering himself. “I’m just worried. I don’t want you struggling because of me.”

Well, it’s not because of you, per se…

I looked him in the eye and lifted my chin slightly. “How’s your schedule this weekend?”

“This—” He paused, and fidgeted. “Clear.”

“Good. Keep it that way. Because starting Friday night, you’re all mine.”

“Do you think you’ll be all—”

“Are you questioning me?”

He blinked. “No. Of course not.”

“Good. Friday night, then?”

He gulped, and a grin spread across his lips. “I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I.”

We went our separate ways, and as soon as I was out of his sight, I stopped and leaned against the wall. Closing my eyes, I released a heavy breath.

I was only going to be able to play the top-drop card for so long, which meant I had two options—get my head out of my ass and figure out how to be a Dom again, or come clean to Rick.

I had two days to remember how to be a Dom again. Two days to conjure up the side of me that had always been so natural and that had drawn Rick to me in the first place. Two days to figure out how to give him everything he wanted and needed me to give him.

Exactly the way my employer expected me to.

My stomach lurched up into my throat, and I swore into the silence.

I was fucked. Epically, undeniably, irreversibly fucked.

What the hell do I do now?