Page 38 of Surrender

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That night in bed, it's a bad night. Like I said, a lot of the worst symptoms of my ADHD and anxiety have eased, but they've flared up again today.

It isn't necessarily the conversation with Adrian that has me wide awake, staring at the ceiling. After I'd had time to calm down and go over what he said, his words had less effect on me. He was trying to convince me to give him my virginity and let him take care of me, but all I heard in his promises was a golden cage, and him as my master. Even his accusations against Declan fell apart under scrutiny. Sure, he could take my virginity and kick me out. Most relationships have a beginning, middle, and end. Any number of things could happen between now and then.

But he hasn't pressured me or tried to coax me into anything physical, other than to watch others and explore what I like. He'd mentioned to the boys about asking for my virginity, that much I'd overheard, but I know he said it in a sarcastic way. Surely, if he wanted my first time so badly, he'd be pressuring me, or manipulating me in some way. But he hasn't made any advances whatsoever.

And maybe that's why I can't sleep. Because I do want more with him. Adrian doesn't make me feel safe. He doesn't put my feelings ahead of his own. He wanted to intimidate me and hurt me about Declan, and proposition me to be his. Declan does make me feel safe, though. Declan's letting me set the pace to anything physical that we do. And I want to do more with him. Even if this all blows up in my face, I'd rather be physical with someone who doesn't pressure me or think only about his wants and needs.

After all this ends, I don't know how to be normal around someone. I'm not sure I could ever trust someone the way I trust Declan. I'm not sure I'd ever give someone the chance to see everything about me and risk them walking away after I've developed feelings. And yeah, maybe the idea of being with a man other than Declan makes me nauseous.

But I know Adrian won't hurt me now. He wants me, and any logical man knows that if he were to hurt me, he would ruin anychances he had at having me. He's a smart businessman, even if he has a proclivity for terrifying young women. If he covets me, he won't want to hurt me. So, the fear I'd carried around of him being violent is actually gone. He had the perfect opportunity to, alone, in the kitchen, but he didn't. Instead, he propositioned me to take care of me and then scolded me about hurting myself.

None of that screams rapist or murderer.

I shift again on his bed, trying to concentrate on his breathing, or the sounds of the city outside, or the ping of the radiant heating.

I count sheep in my head. I try yoga breathing. None of it works.

"I can hear you thinking, Ser. What is it?"

Ser.

He sounds annoyed with me. He has every right to be. We'd gone for our run, worked at his home office, and spent eight hours working the club. I should be exhausted. I'm sure he is. And here I am, keeping him awake with my fidgeting.

"I'm sorry. I should go back to my bed so you can get some rest. I don't think sleep is in the cards for me tonight. I'm sorry." I say again, sitting up and pulling the blanket off of me to leave.

"Stay. Talk it out with me. I won't be able to sleep if I think you're still up, fretting about something."

He sits up and flicks on the lamp on his nightstand. The light cocoons us intimately, and I can't help but notice the way his tight, white undershirt hugs his biceps. He's got gorgeous scruff, and his tiredness has taken away the usual hardness of his eyes.

This is a side of Declan only I get to see. He hasn't brought home any other girls. He hasn't even seemed interested in anyone at The Envelope, even when I watch woman after woman approach him or try to get his attention.

I appreciate how delicately he's handling me. I appreciate a lot about this man. And while he can be gruff and rude, I trust him implicitly.

I'm tempted to tell him about the encounter with Adrian, dump the entire conversation at his feet and let him worry about it. But he does that. He worries. About me, specifically. And I'm fine. I really am. No, I don't want to needlessly cause him to worry.

But there is something we could do to quiet both of our minds.

"What if..."

He scowls and quirks an eyebrow at me. Where before his frown would have kicked my insecurities into overdrive, I feel like I understand him more after spending almost every waking minute with him for a month, and that his face doesn't always show how he's feeling or what he's thinking.

I swallow nervously.

"What if I wanted to explore...more..."

"More?"

Christ, he's going to make me spell it out. "What if I wanted to explore my sexuality more... how would I do that?"

His eyes get a faraway look as he considers my question, and I know he's giving it deep thought. But his silence makes me nervous, so I ramble on. "I don't think I could do it at The Envelope. I wouldn't even know where to begin. And everyone there is so... experienced. And doing something with someone I don't know does nothing good for my anxiety. I guess I could watch more scenes and see what I'm into... but then what? I don't know the first thing about any of this," I huff in frustration.

He narrows his eyes at me and his glare shuts me up.

He swallows, clears his throat and swallows again. I can't tell if he's nervous or holding back words, but finally he speaks. "You could experiment with me... if you like. If you feel comfortable enough with me."

I let my eyes roam over his body again. He's certainly attractive. Lord knows I spend too much time checking him out in all his forms - running, working, suits, and PJs. I bite my lip. I do feel safer with him. I know he knows my situation and wouldn't take things too far or too fast.

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