he'd said, then I laughed.
We had a good brunch. We didn't just talk about that, although he let me get my thoughts on the table and offered his insight. He never told me I had to do one thing or another.
Before we ended our discussion four hours later, he looked at me. "Any more questions?"
"How do I go home and explain why I did this?"
He shrugged. "You're his Mistress. You don't have to tell him anything if you don't want to."
72
Domma By Default
by Tymber Dalton
"I'm also his wife. Don't I owe him an explanation?"
"Do you? Why?"
"Because I love him."
"Show him you love him. Be honest, have communication, but you can't sit there worried about what hasn't happened yet. Just be honest. Maybe he'll surprise you."
* * * *
Miracle of miracles, I didn't have a seat mate on the return flight home. I stared out the window at the alien landscape as it slipped by below us, thousands of feet away.
How would he greet me?
I still wasn't sure what my next step would be. Should I consider ending this "game" once and for all? I loathed myself. I hated that I could rip into him emotionally, even in as minor a way that I did, and hurt him. I didn't want that power.
I feared it.
The sun was dipping into the Gulf of Mexico as our plane banked over Tampa Bay, landing from the south. An hour later I sat in my car and pondered my next step.
What would await me?
I gave him no instructions when I told him about my flight.
Would he be home? Would he be watching TV or working?
Would he be sitting there, naked, only wearing his collar?
Would he be there at all?
I personally feared and felt I deserved the last.
Yes, he'd asked for this lifestyle. I tried, but no matter what, I couldn't deny that there were needs I had that this 73
Domma By Default
by Tymber Dalton
game ran totally contrary to. I needed him, his strength. I needed his support.
Could I reconcile what I needed and still give him what he craved?
That was. The longest. Fucking. Drive. Of my life.
Period.
I sat in our driveway for a moment, his car was there.
Lights were on inside.
With a deep, nervous breath, I gathered my things, locked my car, and stepped inside.
The smell hit me first, rolling out the door like a luscious cloud. He'd been cooking. Considering my last meal was a bagel off the hotel's continental breakfast bar twelve hours earlier, saying my mouth watered wasn't an exaggeration.
The lamp in the living room was on, but the rest of the kitchen and dining room were bathed in candlelight.
Stunned, I couldn't move. I was vaguely aware of something soft and jazzy on the stereo. I'd envisioned many homecomings, but nothing like this.
He stuck his head out of the kitchen and raced over to me.
Naked.
Well, except for his collar.
He threw his arms around me and I barely had time to put down my stuff before he swept me into his arms, his face buried in my hair.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he kept repeating.
I think that made me feel worse.
74
Domma By Default
by Tymber Dalton
I let him hold me, hugging him back, closing my eyes and trying to live in the moment. Obviously he wasn't upset with me for my sudden departure.
"You didn't do anything wrong," I whispered.
And, of course, he hadn't.
We made it to the couch. When he tried to sit on the floor in front of me I refused to let go of him until he was seated next to me, on the cushions, his arm around me.
I couldn't look him in the eye. "We need to have a talk," I managed.
He kissed the top of my head. "Okay."
I'd planned this talk all day. Somehow, the words failed me. Every line I thought I'd memorized went right out the fucking window.
"What did Tony say to you on the phone?" I asked.
I felt his body tense a little. "He told me you were having a normal reaction and that you needed a little time to think things through."
"What else?"
I felt him shrug.
"I didn't sleep with him. That's not why I went out there.
All we did was talk."
His body relaxed, as if tension drained
We had a good brunch. We didn't just talk about that, although he let me get my thoughts on the table and offered his insight. He never told me I had to do one thing or another.
Before we ended our discussion four hours later, he looked at me. "Any more questions?"
"How do I go home and explain why I did this?"
He shrugged. "You're his Mistress. You don't have to tell him anything if you don't want to."
72
Domma By Default
by Tymber Dalton
"I'm also his wife. Don't I owe him an explanation?"
"Do you? Why?"
"Because I love him."
"Show him you love him. Be honest, have communication, but you can't sit there worried about what hasn't happened yet. Just be honest. Maybe he'll surprise you."
* * * *
Miracle of miracles, I didn't have a seat mate on the return flight home. I stared out the window at the alien landscape as it slipped by below us, thousands of feet away.
How would he greet me?
I still wasn't sure what my next step would be. Should I consider ending this "game" once and for all? I loathed myself. I hated that I could rip into him emotionally, even in as minor a way that I did, and hurt him. I didn't want that power.
I feared it.
The sun was dipping into the Gulf of Mexico as our plane banked over Tampa Bay, landing from the south. An hour later I sat in my car and pondered my next step.
What would await me?
I gave him no instructions when I told him about my flight.
Would he be home? Would he be watching TV or working?
Would he be sitting there, naked, only wearing his collar?
Would he be there at all?
I personally feared and felt I deserved the last.
Yes, he'd asked for this lifestyle. I tried, but no matter what, I couldn't deny that there were needs I had that this 73
Domma By Default
by Tymber Dalton
game ran totally contrary to. I needed him, his strength. I needed his support.
Could I reconcile what I needed and still give him what he craved?
That was. The longest. Fucking. Drive. Of my life.
Period.
I sat in our driveway for a moment, his car was there.
Lights were on inside.
With a deep, nervous breath, I gathered my things, locked my car, and stepped inside.
The smell hit me first, rolling out the door like a luscious cloud. He'd been cooking. Considering my last meal was a bagel off the hotel's continental breakfast bar twelve hours earlier, saying my mouth watered wasn't an exaggeration.
The lamp in the living room was on, but the rest of the kitchen and dining room were bathed in candlelight.
Stunned, I couldn't move. I was vaguely aware of something soft and jazzy on the stereo. I'd envisioned many homecomings, but nothing like this.
He stuck his head out of the kitchen and raced over to me.
Naked.
Well, except for his collar.
He threw his arms around me and I barely had time to put down my stuff before he swept me into his arms, his face buried in my hair.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he kept repeating.
I think that made me feel worse.
74
Domma By Default
by Tymber Dalton
I let him hold me, hugging him back, closing my eyes and trying to live in the moment. Obviously he wasn't upset with me for my sudden departure.
"You didn't do anything wrong," I whispered.
And, of course, he hadn't.
We made it to the couch. When he tried to sit on the floor in front of me I refused to let go of him until he was seated next to me, on the cushions, his arm around me.
I couldn't look him in the eye. "We need to have a talk," I managed.
He kissed the top of my head. "Okay."
I'd planned this talk all day. Somehow, the words failed me. Every line I thought I'd memorized went right out the fucking window.
"What did Tony say to you on the phone?" I asked.
I felt his body tense a little. "He told me you were having a normal reaction and that you needed a little time to think things through."
"What else?"
I felt him shrug.
"I didn't sleep with him. That's not why I went out there.
All we did was talk."
His body relaxed, as if tension drained
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