TIT FOR TAT

TRIBUTE/CHAPTER 3

Emily sat in the bar, watching soldiers who were in town for the big Memorial Day parade, and thought about the unexpected call she'd gotten from Jackson last night. It had been one month, twenty-six days without a word from him. They hadn't run into each other nor had she laid eyes on him since her April Fool's Day revenge prank.

Since then, she'd written two BDSM short stories, delving into the sub being shared and sharing her Dom, four chapters of her erotica book, was helping her parents with rentals and renovations and even managed to move into one of their small houses. Greg had called a few times, wanting her to take him back. Imagine it not working out with a bimbo young enough to be his daughter, she mused spitefully, as a couple of military men burst into laughter that made her smile and give a silent toast to them for risking their lives for their country.

As the weeks went by, Emily became less confident and it irked her. Jacks couldn't find time to even check on me...not until last night. I guess he meant it when he said he wasn't in love with me...I had been so sure. Her ego was bruised and the only thing that kept it from being destroyed was her writing and her ex, kissing her ass. And the last thing she'd thought was that she'd end up staying here in Salida, but for some reason, she couldn't make herself leave. Oh, be honest, Em! There's no way you were going to leave with the idea of being Jackson Clayborn's sub...his sex slave, the promises of fulfilling my every fantasy. Like hell you were going anywhere!

She was looking at her cell when a squeal turned her attention to the front door. There, with arms spread wide, stood the most beautiful woman Emily had ever seen. Her curly mocha hair was windblown and tousled like a siren of old. Her golden, almond-shaped eyes crinkled at the corners from the contagious smile across her caramel-colored face, and standing behind her was Jackson Clayborn.

Emily's stomach flipped then did a nosedive. It had never entered her mind that the bastard would already be with another woman. How dare he? she raged inwardly as the woman ran across the room into the outstretched arms of the soldiers and Jackson started walking to her table. She looked up at him accusingly.

He stopped then asked, "What, Emily? Is that your evil eye? If so, stop it. We don't believe in in love, so don't get bent out of shape because I walked in with another woman. Keep your ego in check."

His words felt like a slap and she could feel her face getting hot. "Of course, you're absolutely correct. It was just kind of a shock. Do you plan on sitting?"

"Is it safe?"

She nodded.

"I've seen you angry, Em. I wouldn't want to piss you off with a gun in your hand."

He's baiting me...trying to get a response. She gave him her sly grin. "Jacks, don't you think you're being a little dramatic? We're just friends...with possible benefits. Sex and love are two completely different things. And I promise to never have a gun around you." She hesitated, seeing a flicker in his eyes and knew she'd hit the mark. "So, why did you want to see me?"

He sat and gave a snide grin, his shoulder grazing hers. "Well, we're still talking sex...possible benefits. Are you still interested in being my sub? I've noticed in your writing lately, you use the term sex slave quite often."

She blanched. He's been reading my stories. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Have you been reading them?"

"Your BDSM?"

"Yes."

"Does that surprise you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you've made no attempt to contact me...not even to see how I'm doing."