50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

50SOD II: Chapter Nine

    Aubrey's office was on the thirty-fifth floor, so the elevator ride was short. Destiny stood staring at the closed elevator doors, trying not to remember the steamy moments they'd shared in this very elevator. When the doors slid open, he stepped out and she followed.

    She was still experiencing quite a bit of soreness. That morning she'd felt like hell, quite tempted to take the day off. Being a new hire, she didn't want to gain a reputation for slacking. So she'd gone into work, but spoke to Brian regarding the fact that sitting down could become a problem. I couldn't quite tell him that my boyfriend/Dominant/significant other essentially beat my ass to a pulp last night, so I had to come up with an excuse as to why I can't sit down. An intense workout seemed to be the perfect excuse. Brian, who kept in excellent shape, had related immediately.

    The minute she'd known that Aubrey was in the office, she'd felt tense. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. She couldn't bring herself to speak to him. She was just a little bit afraid of him, at this point. Not that she thought he would ever cause harm to her on purpose, but even the thought that he could harm her on accident was enough to frighten her.

    She followed him through the offices on the thirty-fifth floor, greeting his receptionist, and trailed behind him as he entered his office. He stood aside so she could enter, then closed the door behind them. He stared at her for a moment. She stared down at the floor.

    "It hurts for you to sit?" he asked her finally.

    She didn't respond. She wrapped her arms around herself and avoided his gaze.

    "Destiny."

    "I don't have anything to say to you right now," she said softly. "I would like to go back to my desk."

    "You will not return to your desk until you talk to me," he told her. His tone was soft and gentle. Concerned.

    She shook her head. "This isn't your domain. You can't interfere with my career. The contract says so."

    "But this is my domain," he said, correcting her. "I own this company."

    "And everyone in it?" she asked him, finally looking up at him. And instantly regretting it. His eyes were sad, pleading for her to listen to him and talk to him. He had a face that was hard to stay mad at, no matter what he'd done, which was dangerous. She groaned in frustration and walked away from him.

    He remained standing near the door, trying to give her some space. "I didn't say that."

    "You didn't have to," she muttered, going to stand near the windows behind his desk.

    "When I checked your room this morning, I thought you'd left. I thought you'd left Toronto."

    "I should have," she said, her voice barely audible. She gazed down at the streets thirty-five floors below, the people in the cars in a hurry to get wherever they were trying to go. There were people who didn't even know what BDSM was, what Dominance and submission was about. People who didn't know that their next door neighbor was draped across their Dominant's lap getting spanked or whipped or flogged. People who didn't know their co-workers went home, strapped on a leather collar at night, and crawled around on their hands and knees doing their Dominant's bidding. Just last year, she hadn't known about any of this. Once she found out, she'd found it fascinating. It was fascinating that someone would subject themselves to this kind of interaction. She hated to admit it, but she'd also found it thrilling. There was something undeniably sexy about an Alpha male who knew what he wanted, and who was bold enough to say it without censorship. There was something sexy about a man who barked orders, and a man whose orders you wanted to obey. But last night... Last night was too much, she thought. Last night was not what I signed up for. She glanced at him over her shoulder.

    He still stood beside the door. His downturned eyes were still sad. He was staring down at the floor. He wanted to come to her, she could tell. But he was trying to give her space.

    He knows that he scares me, she realized, her eyes filling with tears as she studied him. He knows that he scares me, and that's why he's keeping his distance. She sighed and rolled her eyes upwards. "I know that you didn't mean to take it as far as you did."

    He looked up at her.

    "And I know what I did was wrong." A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped at it. "There were times when I wanted to tell you that I'd seen it. Times when I wanted to talk to you about it. Times when I would look at you, and I would see that little boy."

    "Times when you looked at me and thought I was weak?" he asked, his face contorting into an expression of disappointment. "Someone to be pitied?"

    She shook her head. "No." She tilted her head to the side. "Is that what you think? That the items in that box show your weaknesses?"

    "They show my vulnerabilities."

    "Shouldn't I know what those are?" she asked him.

    He turned his head. "I'm supposed to be strong. For you. For us. You won't be able to view me as strong if you see all of my weaknesses."

    She stared at him without responding. Then, she turned and walked over to him. "It takes strength to open up to someone," she told him, looking up at him. "It takes strength to show someone your weaknesses. When are you going to learn that I wouldn't hold your weaknesses against you? I am with you. And I'm glad I saw that tape. You could beat me until I was black and blue, within an inch of my life, and I'd still be glad that I saw that tape. I wanted to know who you really were. The man behind this...perfect, gorgeous, well-composed face that you show the world. I wanted to know what makes you tick. I need to know what makes you tick. It's a part of you. And when it comes to you, I want to know everything. I want you to be able to talk to me about everything. And I mean everything."