Listen, Obey

24. Twenty-Fourth Lesson

Matthews continued to hold me, I don't even know for how long. We simply stood there, and I calmed down to the sound of his beating heart. My swirling thoughts rested in a calm oasis, hiding from the outside world.

"Ethan, tell me what's troubling you."

The comment was half-way between a question and a command. He knew that I knew that I didn't have to answer, but it was somehow easier to talk when he asked it like that. He truly wanted to know, or at least allow me to get it off my chest-whatever it was.

"My past caught up with me."

"In what way?"

"I don't want you to be involved." Perhaps my words came out a bit too harsh, but it was the truth. I wasn't lying. He couldn't be unhappy with me for doing what he told me the second time we met.

"Ethan, if I'm to keep you safe, I do need to be involved in your life."

That wasn't the reply I anticipated.

"I'm not your responsibility. I'm not your sub, not your employee. I'm no one."

His hand drifted across my back in a soothing pattern. "Don't be stupid. I may not be your Dom, and I may not be anything to you, but you certainly mean something to me."

I stiffened. What did he mean? He shouldn't say those things. Not when I was already struggling with my feelings for him. He made it all too dangerous. I didn't deserve to fall in love with him. He was beyond my reach, beyond my everything. I was soiling him just by spending time with him. So why would he say that?

"Ethan. Stop thinking so hard."

"If I learned how to think hard, I wouldn't be such an idiot."

Matthews chuckled. "You're far from an idiot. A little troubled perhaps, but not an idiot. But let me rephrase then: Don't be so hard on yourself."

At that moment, I wished I didn't like him as much as I did because I wanted to punch him for saying things that only confused me, but I couldn't. I didn't want to hurt him.

"I still don't want you involved in this."

"What are you afraid of? That I'll get hurt?"

No. Yes. No, not only.

When I didn't reply, Matthews leaned back a little and let one if his fingers lift my chin. Our eyes met.

"Are you worried I'll think less of you?"

"Yes." I replied before I had the chance to think.

"Ethan, listen. Your past isn't something either you or I can change. There's no use dwelling on it when you've already taken so many steps in the right direction. So, if this is your past catching up, there's no reason to be worried about what I think."

He couldn't possibly mean that. Right?

His eyes radiated sincerity, and I found myself locked in his gaze. Was there truly hope for me?

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you need money."

I stiffened again, which made me realize that I must have relaxed somewhat while he tried to reassure me.

"And I'll take that as a yes," he continued.

I let my eyes fall from his. It was disconcerting that he read me so well, but also comforting. He left me with no place to hide, but he still held me in his arms, steady and sure.

"Ethan, I won't let you sell yourself tonight. I'm sure it seems like a quick fix, but trust me, it's not. You'll just dig your hole deeper."

"I don't have a choice."

"Perhaps not, but I'll give you one."

I snapped. "This is exactly why I didn't want you involved. I don't want charity. I don't want to rely on people that I'll end up letting down."

I think he shook me gently, but I was too out of it to notice.

"Stop it!" he said, hugging me tight into his body again.

"Why?"

"You're pushing when you don't have to, Ethan."

His words left me confused, and for some reason, that confusion stopped my train of thought, and it seemed I couldn't recall what exactly we were talking about.

Matthews took up the thread. "You're pushing because you want me to snap and get angry. It won't happen, so just stop."

He was right. I did want him to snap. I wanted him to make it easier for me to let him down.

"You should be mad," I said. The line made me sound like a petulant child, but I didn't care.

"Who says I'm not mad?"

That caught me off guard. He certainly didn't sound mad. And was there a difference between mad and angry? I didn't get it.

"You just said you wouldn't get angry."

"True, but I think we're all slightly insane."

I couldn't help but chuckle at that. It was a bad joke, but in one way, it was true. Most people I had met in my life was insane in one way or the other. Sometimes they didn't notice, and sometimes they did. Those who didn't know were almost scarier because they had no control in those situations the insanity surfaced.

"You have a weird sense of humor," I said, mostly to say something instead of standing there in silence while resting in his embrace.

"I think you bring it out of me."

"See, I'm a bad influence."

"Well, you certainly make my life more interesting."

I grinned at that. This light bantering settled the unease floating around inside of me. Most likely, he did it on purpose, but I didn't mind. As long as he didn't talk about saving me, we were fine.

The grin turned into a scowl. I was such an hypocrite. I wanted to be saved, desperately so, but I knew that I had to save myself. I couldn't rely on others to help me because one day they would leave, like everyone else in my life had at some point or another.

"You're thinking too hard again."

I inhaled a deep breath. "You have to stop this," I said, trying to squirm out of his hold.

"Stop what?"

"Pretending to care."

This time, it was his turn to stiffen. His entire body became rigid, and I knew that I had pushed him too far. I got what I wanted, but then why did it feel like I wanted to rewind and erase those words?

When Matthews spoke again, after half a minute of silence, his voice was measured and almost too calm. "Ethan, we met because you wanted to become a submissive, and right now you're begging me to punish you. But, you're not ready, so please stop pushing me."

Please. He said 'please'. I wasn't sure how many times someone had said that to me. At least not while meaning it. I thought that word had lost its meaning, but here he was, using it in a way that made me want to choke on my own stupidity. In my state of uncontrolled frustration, I kept annoying the person that I least of all wanted to annoy.

"I'm sorry." The words rolled off my tongue, raw and sincere. I meant it. For the first time in a long while, I apologized without lying either to the recipient or myself.

He, once more, tipped my head back with a finger beneath my chin."Apology accepted," he breathed out, and then his lips found mine. Soft but sure.

The kiss was over in a heartbeat, so brief that I wondered if it happened at all. I stared into his eyes, searching for something, anything.

"I'm going to kiss you again," he said. It was almost a question, and I felt myself nod. Yes. Please.

He kissed me again. Slower. Pressing our bodies together with the arm resting around my waist, then one hand tangling in my hair. He kissed me. Lips asking to touch, asking for more. It was a kiss to drown within, and I did.