Page 74 of Deliah
“I just… I can’t keep sitting around like this. Being spoiled. Getting dragged around boutiques and bent over beds. I mean, I can, obviously.” I smiled. “But it feels a bit…”
“Unbalanced?” he finished.
“Exactly.”
He nodded slowly, as if he’d expected this conversation at some point. Still, he didn’t speak.
“I think I need a job,” I said.
That made him snort. “You don’t need a job, Deliah. I’ve got you.”
“I know you’ve got me,” I said, a little sharper than I meant to. “But it’s not about the money. It’s not even about the independence. It’s… I don’t know, Damion, what am I going to do all day? Sit by the pool, waiting for you to come home and tell me to spread my legs?”
He looked entirely too smug at that. “Not the worst deal.”
I gave him a look. “I’m serious.”
“I am too,” he said, placing his mug on the nightstand. “You’re beautiful. Smart. A pain in the ass. But mostly? You make my world a little quieter. You being here, just being—that’s enough.”
“It’s not enough for me,” I whispered.
That silenced him for a moment.
“I can’t lose myself again, Damion,” I said quietly. “I’ve done that before. For men. For the comfort of someone else having control. And you? You’re the first man I’ve ever trusted with that power. But if I lose who I am while I’m with you, I’ll start to resent it. And I don’t want that.”
His jaw clenched. “Okay,” he said after a long pause. “But no stripping.”
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously.”
“I mean it,” he said firmly. “That part of your life is over.”
I smiled. “Relax. I’m not about to dust off the pole and start twerking for tips.”
His eyes darkened, but his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“Cherry’s coming over today,” I added, more carefully. “I thought maybe we could look for something together. Something small. Part-time, maybe. Even just a few nights a week. Nothing that takes me away from you too much.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Cherry?”
“Yes, Cherry. My best friend. You’ve met her,” I said sarcastically.
He gave a sceptical grunt. “Still not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.”
“She’s a chaos enabler,” I said, sipping my coffee. “But she’s my chaos enabler.”
“I know.”
We sat in silence for a beat.
“You’re not mad?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. I get it. I don’t like it. But I get it.”
I nudged him with my leg. “That was… surprisingly reasonable of you.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
