Chpt. 4 KPOV
"You're late," I say as we pull out of the parking lot. I've been waiting here for nearly an hour; she didn't respond to my texts or calls. I was about to leave, assuming that she must have taken uber home when I see her and that guy Christian walking out. His arm was fucking wrapped around her waist, but what pissed me off more was that she was practically leaning against him. What the fuck?!
"Our….meeting ran late, sorry," she replies.
"What happened to Simpson? I thought you were here with him?"
"I am…we're just not always here together."
"You're still going with him though right?"
"Yes," she insists even though I haven't seen him for the last 4 days. "We're consulting with other people separately though; they're helping us prepare for the mission."
"Helping you how exactly?"
She doesn't answer and I don't expect her to. We've had this conversation numerous times and no matter how many times I ask she doesn't answer me. She's told me far too many times to count, that she's consulting with people at a sex club. For the first few weeks that she was here, it made sense. She was only here for a couple of hours each day. But this week, she's been here for several hours each day.
She won't tell me anything about where she's going undercover or why, but I'm not stupid. She's preparing for it at a fucking sex club for Christ sakes! I've tried to be understanding, to remind myself that she can't tell me about what she's working on but all that goes to hell when I see that fucker walking out with his hands on her. If he's simply consulting with her on this case, why the hell does he need to touch her?
"We were supposed to meet Maria and Steve for drinks tonight, I let them know we were running late-" I reminder her.
"I'm sorry, I don't feel up to going out tonight," she interrupts quickly.
"What's going on Ana? I ask as soon as I pull into the parking lot of her apartment building a few minutes later.
"I'm….we're going to be leaving in a week, I still have so much to do to prepare for this. I…I need to focus on that," she says without looking at me.
"I feel like something else is going on," I finally voice what I've been thinking the last few days.
Something changed this week and I have no fucking idea what it was. We went from nearly spending every night together, to barely seeing each other except for the occasional meal together after her meetings before I would drop her off at her apartment. We're not talking as much as we used to during the day; she rarely texts me anymore. I can't remember the last time we actually went out together; that was the reason I was looking forward to tonight. I thought going out with our friends might help her forget whatever she's worried about even if it was only for a couple of hours.
"I'm just stressed," she admits. "You know this is the first time I'm going undercover."
"I know baby, and I'm so proud of you for doing this," I hold her hand in mind.
What I don't tell her is that I hate like hell that she's going undercover in the first place. That I hate like hell that her first mission has something to do with a sex club. That I hate like hell that she spends hours inside of a club every day doing God knows what. That I hate like hell that she can't tell me anything about the mission. I have no idea what role she has, where she's going or when she'll even be back.
"I just hope I'm ready," she sighs.
"You'll be ready," I hope. "What does Simpson say?"
"I haven't seen him in a few days, I'm not sure," she answers.
"So you're just with this Christian guy then?"
"For the most part."
When I picture her alone in a sex club with this guy I nearly lose it. I can't stop thinking of the way he's touched her all week. Every fucking day, he's touching her somehow when they walk out. At first it was just his hand on her back, but today was the fucking last straw. I thought I was getting over seeing her leaning into him, but now hearing that she's alone with him inside that building for hours on end? What the fuck are they doing in there?!
"Is…Is there something going on between you and Christian?" I ask.
"What!? Of course not!" she yells. "Why the hell would you think that?"
"He touches you," I hiss.
"He's walked me out, that's it," she says.
"Today was different," I point out.
"No it wasn't," she argues but I notice her voice wavering.
"It was. His arm was fucking wrapped around you," I remind her. "And you were leaning into him."
"That's not….I wasn't!"
"Tell me the truth Ana," I look her in the eye. "Has he touched you in there?"
When she looks away, her silence is all the answer I need. I've tried to be understanding from the first time she told me she was going undercover. I tried to respect that she couldn't give me details of her job. I tried to believe her that when she was going to a sex club every day that she was really just meeting with people there to help her prepare for this case. That all she was doing was talking to people…maybe observing other people having sex. I never imagined that she was letting someone fucking touch her!
"Have you fucked him?" I ask.
"No," she says firmly.
"But you've let him touch you," it's a statement rather than a question.
"Look Kevin," she turns to face me again. "Even if I could tell you the details of this mission, I wouldn't. I wouldn't do that to you. You need to trust me. You need to trust that this is my job and that you and I are separate from that."
"You expect me to sit here while you go into that…place every day and let some guy touch you? And then what? You come home and crawl into bed with me? Ever since you started going there our relationship has suffered-"
"What?! Our relationship suffered from my work? This is fucking news to me," she's angry but it doesn't go unnoticed that she has no idea what I'm talking about.
"We haven't had sex in weeks Ana….weeks!" I point out. "This week alone you've spent every night at your apartment, instead of at mine. The lack of sex is one thing, but you're pulling away from me."
"I'm not," she argues.
"Every night this week I've dropped you off at home. Every fucking night Ana," I remind her. "You've barely said two words to me before getting out of my car each night. I can't remember the last time we had an actual conversation that lasted more than the five minute drive here."
"Look, things are getting really intense right now," she sighs. "Once this mission is over, things will go back to the way they were."
"I don't see how we can ever go back the way we were," I admit even though it kills me. How the fuck does she expect me to forget everything that she did in there? Am I just supposed to forget that she let some guy (guys?) touch her? How am I supposed to trust her? How can I trust that it really was just about her work?
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Ana…you just told me you're letting some guy touch you every single time you go to the stupid fucking club. God knows what's going to happen when you actually go undercover! How many guys are you going to let touch you then? How many guys are you to let fuck you-"
SLAP
"Fuck you," she gets out of the car and slams the door shut before storming off into her apartment building.
APOV:
Walking into Time Out the following evening, I head to the room even though this is the last place I want to be. I barley slept last night, tossing and turning until I finally gave up on asleep. I was angry, frustrated and confused. Hell I still am all those things.
What did he expect me to do? Quit my job? Forget the real reason I pushed to go undercover on this mission? Forget everything that's at stake. Give up all of that…for what? It's not like we were fucking married! Hell we weren't even closer to talking about that, yet he wanted me to give it all up for him? He never even bothered to find out the real reason I need to do this, yet he was quick to insist I give it up? It's one fucking mission…one mission I need to do and then I'll go back to my desk job and never entertain the thought of going undercover again.
It's funny….I realized this morning that I was more angry that he thought I would give it all up for him rather than at the thought of our relationship ending. Sure he was a nice guy and treated me right, but there wasn't that spark between us. What I will miss though was just someone to have dinner with or go out with from time to time. How sad is that?
The moment I walk into the room, I'm reminded of everything that happened in here yesterday. I knew eventually Christian would end up touching me during a scene, so that didn't surprise me yesterday. What did surprise me though was my reaction to his touch. All night I tried to convince myself that my reaction was just my body's natural response to the constant stimulation. I tried to convince myself that my response had nothing to do with the person who was actually touching me. The person who tore out my heart and crushed it 10 years ago; the person who broke the promises that meant the most to me. That's what had me tossing and turning all night; that's what's replayed over and over again in my mind all day. How could I possibly react so strongly to someone who hurt me so badly?
Yesterday's scene didn't come close to anything that Simpson and I did during our training together. He used toys on me occasionally, but never did he have my body so aroused like Christian did yesterday. Never did he have me so out of control with need. Never did he have me begging him to fuck me…even if it was all in my head.
"You're not ready?" Christian startles me.
"Uh…no….sorry," I stutter.
"Very well," he shakes his head with obvious disappointment which for whatever reason actually bothers me. I should be angry that he's acting disappointed me in. I'm the one who was disappointed in him 10 years ago. "Is there anything you want to discuss before our session begins?"
"No."
He raises an eyebrow at me; where my responses were instantaneous over the last few days I'm just not in the right mindset for it to be natural today.
"No sir," I correct.
"If something is bothering you-"
"There isn't," I interrupt.
"We should talk about what happened yesterday-"
"There's nothing to talk about; let's just do this."
"Fine," he goes to a closet and pulls out a dress if you can even call it that. It's completely see through, with a black diamond design all over it but I can tell without even putting it on that it's going to cover nothing. "Take off everything and put this on."
He sits down in the chair in front of me, with obvious intent to watch. I glare at him, silently willing him to leave.
"You showed up late to our session," he reminds me. "Undress and put this on."
I can't stop the blush that spreads over my body as I slowly take off my clothes, which doesn't make sense given how much time I've spent with him naked in the last few days. Undressing in front of him seems different though. Or maybe it's because of what happened yesterday that this seems different. I don't know what it is and I really don't want to know.
The dress is more comfortable than I expected it to be. It's made of stretchy material so it hugs my curves rather than squashing them into the outfit. When I look down though I realize that I was right; the dress covers absolutely nothing.
"Wow," Christian gasps and I have to force myself not to glare at him, instead I keep my eyes on the floor.
"Today we're going to observe a few couples in the main room," he announces and I immediately tense. I haven't been in the main room; up until now our training has been limited to a couple private rooms that Christian or Mark met us in. Whether Christian senses my hesitation or there's another reason, his hand is on my back in seconds. "We're just observing today; you won't be participating in a scene while we're there."
I nod, on one hand relieved that he's not expecting me to scene in front of an audience but on the other I know that day is coming. I know that when Simpson and I get to the resort that's going to be expected. Christian then attaches a snug piece of leather around my neck, it's tight but doesn't restrict my breathing. I look at him questioningly.
"A collar in our lifestyle signifies that you belong to someone," he explains. "Another dom will not approach a sub that is collared. To some, a collar is more significant than a wedding ring; but for us right now it's showing that you belong to someone. When you go…when you and Simpson are undercover, it's imperative that you never leave your room without the collar. It doesn't matter if you're going out to grab a bite to eat or going to observe a scene; the collar must be in place. Understand?"
"Yes…Yes, sir," I reply.
"While we're in the main room today, I want you at my side at all times," he instructs. "If you have a question about a scene, I want you to ask it, but do so only when you can speak privately to me. When we're in there, remember when we first began that I said BDSM is like a spectrum. You're going to see different levels of play, but I want you to keep in mind that just like when you walk in here every day, each person participating in a scene has a safeword to stop the scene at any time. A sub is never punished because he or she used her safeword."
"I understand sir."
"And as far as anyone in that room is concerned, you're my sub," he adds with a hand on the doorknob. "No one other than a select handful of doms who were asked to consider assisting in your training are aware that you are an FBI agent. I encourage you to consider this your first test."
I gulp and try like hell to get into the right mindset. I force myself to push everything aside: Kevin's selfish, arrogance attitude last night and the scene with Christian that left me…confused. Keeping my head down, I follow Christian out of the room staying a couple steps behind him at all times as Mark taught me. We go nearly to the front of the building, but instead of exiting through the door to the main area we turn right and go down a long hallway before Christian pauses outside a large door. I hear a beep and then the door opens; Christian places his hand on my lower back urging me to enter the room. It takes everything in me not to look up; I find myself desperate to know what the room looks like. Desperate to know how it differs from the videos I've been watching online or the from the books that Mark had me read.
Christian doesn't say a word, instead he leads me through the room to a white loveseat where he stops. He leans into me so our bodies are nearly touching, my breath hitches and for some reason I think he's going to kiss me. Which is unexpected considering he's hasn't kissed me once since our training began.
"When I sit, you kneel at my feet," he explains. "I want you to observe the scene in front of us."
"Yes sir," not thrilled about kneeling on the floor but when I do I'm thankful that the rug is much softer than I expect.
"Watch," Christian's hand runs through my hair before he raises my chin so I can now see the scene in front of us.
A young woman is strapped to a cross…nearly nude. I wouldn't say she's wearing clothes, because it really just looks like a couple of strings wrapped around her chest and thighs. Her breasts and sex are on full display, but she doesn't seem shy. Her…dom, I guess, is using a whip across her entire body; he alternates where he hits her with each one. I expect her to be screaming in pain, but she seems to enjoy it. She's moaning and writhing on the cross. It reminds me of how I must have looked yesterday during our scene. There's no way in hell prior to yesterday I would have thought that I would enjoy getting spanked or hit to the point of coming. Yet that's exactly what happened yesterday. Christian slapping my ass this those torturing balls inside of me brought me the first orgasm I had in months. After that it was as if he flipped some switch that I didn't know exist inside of me. Everything he did, every time he touched me had me begging for a release.
"Come," Christian suddenly says and I immediately stand to follow him remembering what he said about this being my first test.
He leads me around the room to another section, where he sits down but stops me from kneeling on the floor again. This time he urges me to sit next to him on the couch, his arm is around my back, pulling me closer to him until there's no space between us.
"You look beautiful in this dress," his finger slides over my hardened nipple. My body's response is immediate, as if it remembers what his touch did to me yesterday.
Or maybe it's that I'm focused on convincing the others in the room that I am his sub.
A scream pulls me away from Christian as I take in the scene in front of me. A woman is completely nude, tied with ropes on what looks like a wooden sawhorse like you would find in a workshop. The man next to her has hit her with a belt, leaving behind a red welt on her ass. I cringe at the pain she must have felt. Simpson hit me with a belt once, but it didn't leave a welt. That one stung like hell so I can only imagine how much pain she's in right now.
"Why is he doing that?" I whisper after checking to make sure no one was near us that could overhear my question.
"She's probably punished," he answers.
"For what?" I ask even though I know Christian wouldn't have the answer.
"I'm not sure," he pauses. "She could have been late to their scene, she could have rolled her eyes at him, given him a poor attitude or broken a different rule that they had established."
"He would hit her like that for being late?" I guess I just assumed it would be something more significant.
"Don't mistake Ana, rules are established for a reason," he warns. "If rules are broken, punishments will occur. However, even during punishments hard limits are honored. If she listed a belt as a hard limit, he wouldn't be using it right now."
A sudden moan surprises me and I glance up to find the man with his fingers inside of the woman. I look at Christian questioningly not understanding what just happened.
"Some people enjoy pain," he shrugs. "Pain, even a great deal of it, can arouse some women. This may not have even been a punishment, but a reward for her. Some people, both men and women, enjoy a bite of pain with their pleasure."
"Not me," I whisper.
"No not you," he agrees.
A louder moan draws my attention back to the scene where the guy is now fucking her, hard while she's still tied to the sawhorse. His hands roamed over her entire body, touching her everywhere he could all the while plowing into her. She screamed, moaned and begged him to let her come as he holds tightly onto the ropes that hold her to the sawhorse. He slapped her ass, right where one of the welts were, telling her to come and she did almost as if she was holding back just until he said those words. He followed her only seconds later with his own release. The part I really don't understand though is my own body's reaction to the scene. I find myself wondering what it would be like to be her; not while he was hitting her with the belt but when he was fucking her hard like that. To have someone that turned on, that aroused while with me…
"One more scene," Christian pulls my attention from the scene as he stands up.
Once again he leads me around the room which I've realized is much larger than I expected it to be; without looking up I have no idea how many scenes are going on at once, but I can tell it's quite a few by the various sounds in the room. This time he leads me to an area with a few armchairs in it; unsure where he wants me, I stand while he sits down and await his instruction. He surprises me by turning me around and having me sit on his lap. It takes everything in me not to stand back up, to insist I kneel on the floor or somewhere else. Anywhere but on his lap where I can feel his erection against my ass.
The only thing stopping me is the other two couples sitting in the chairs on either side of us. I reluctantly force my body to relax against his and focus on the scene in front of us. A small bed, probably no bigger than twin, is set in front of us and a man has just finished restraining a blindfolded woman to it. Her arms are bound above her head while her ankles are attached to a spreader bar at the end of the bed. Just like I was during our first scene…
The man lights a candle next to the bed before grabbing an ice cube from the bowl on the same table. He takes his time, sliding the ice cube all over her; my body shivers in response to watching the scene. Whereas the other scenes seemed more staged, this one seems intimate. Neither of them seem to even be aware that we're here. It's as if they're in their own world.
I suddenly become aware of Christian's hand on my thigh; when it got there and how long it's been there I have no idea. My thighs tighten on instinct when he slides his hand between them.
"Open for me," he whispers but his voice is full of command.
My legs fall to the side almost immediately at his words; I close my eyes just as his hand slides up further. A moan catches my attention and forces my eyes open; I watch as the man on the stage pours hot candle wax over the woman's stomach. She arches into it, almost as if she wants more rather than moving away which I expected. The man than takes another ice cube from the bowl and rubs it against her sex; her hips buck in response to the coldness. Just like mine do when Christian's finger teases my sex, sliding his finger through my damp folds. When the guy on the bed moves the ice cube to the woman's sex, Christian's touch becomes more insistent.
The moment he easily slides his finger into me, all thoughts of the room full of people, the couples next to us or even the scene in front of us are gone. The angle isn't ideal, but he manages to bring me right to the edge, stopping just short of pushing me over. I'm panting, arching against him, begging for more.
"Please sir," I whisper needing just a little more.
He doesn't respond with his words, instead this thumb easily finds my clit rubbing circles over it torturing me even more. His arm moves over my chest, his fingers finding my erect nipples through the dress and when he pinches them it takes everything in me not to come.
"May I come sir," I pant when the need becomes too much to fight. I know I'm right on the edge; I know if he doesn't let me come or stop touching me I'm going to disappoint him by coming without permission. I don't want to, but I'm so close-
"Come for me Ana," his thumb increases the pressure on my clit and I explode at his words. His lips are on mine, swallowing my cries while his fingers move quicker within me. As I come down from my orgasm, I realize I'm practically grinding myself against him; not just his fingers but against his dick which is hard against my ass. My face heats up at the realization.
"You taste even better than I remember," he whispers slipping his fingers from me, sucking them clean.
My body freezes, it yet again defied me and responded to his touch. His words instantly chill me, bringing back the pain and anger from 10 years ago. He must sense the tension as he urges me to stand and quickly leads us away from the scene.
"Christian, a minute?" a voice I instantly recognize as Mark's stops us before we leave the room.
Christian turns to talk to Mark leaving me to wait next to him. I'm angry and confused at what just happened. How could I be so caught up in what was going on around me and to me, that I forgot who was doing those things to me? Knowing I need to do something, I look up quickly and locate a woman's room only a few feet from us. I quietly slip away from Christian and Mark; I sigh when I see the women' room is empty. I take a moment to splash cold water on my face in an effort to control my anger.
"First time?" a woman asks startling me because I swore I was here alone.
"That obvious?" I laugh trying to play it off.
"It's a lot to take in your first time, just trust your dom…or domme," she says. I take in the woman in front of me; she looks like she is my age maybe even a little younger than me. The outfit she's wearing makes mine tame; she's essentially wearing a bra and panties but the key parts that would cover her sex and nipples are gone. I quickly avert my eyes back to the mirror, not wanting it to seem like I was staring at her.
"The first time you observe scenes is tough," she continues. "You're used to how your dom has been with you so seeing other couples differently makes you question if your dom would act like that with you."
While I could definitely see what she's saying, that's not what drove me in here. Not that I can say that to her.
"Your dom will know when to push your limits and when not to," she says when I don't respond. "Overtime, I promise you won't even bat an eye at some of these scenes."
"I don't know about that," I admit laughing.
"I know it seems that way now, but observe a few more nights and you'll see," she advices. "If then you find a certain type of scene bothers you to observe, tell your dom. Although chances are he will recognize it before you do."
"You think?"
"He'll be so in tuned to your response while you're watching the scene, he'll be able to tell just from that. I don't get it how they do it, but when my last dom picked up on it with me I was completely surprised because I wasn't bothered by the scene it just wasn't my thing."
"I should get going," I say after a few moments of silence. "I'm sure he's waiting for me."
"Take care…maybe I'll see you again," she says stepping up to the sink next to me.
I dry my hands before opening the door where I nearly run into Christian; the look in his eyes immediately tells me he's not happy with me. I drop my eyes to the floor, focusing on his feet as he turns and walks away. I immediately follow him all the while trying to figure out what I did that was so wrong.
I want you at my side at all times
Fuck…I messed up. I try to make excuses, I mean really I was only in the restroom and he obviously knew I was in there or he wouldn't have been waiting for me, but the reality is he told me to stay with him. I hate the fucking rules in this lifestyle, but in less than a week I won't have choice but to follow them.
"Was I not clear?" Christian says as soon as the door closes.
"You were clear sir," I admit. "I'm-"
"I told you to stay at my side at all times," he cuts me off. "What the hell would have happened if you did that without telling Simpson where you were going when you were at the resort? And then he went looking for you because he couldn't find you? What if you two were separated while looking for each other? What if one of you took a wrong turn and ended up somewhere you weren't supposed to be? What if-"
"I get it," it's my turn to interrupt. "I should have told you where I was going. I was wrong."
"Yes you were," he hisses. "Want to tell me what made you leave so quickly?"
"No," I'm not going there.
"You've been off all day," he reminds me what I already know. "If something is bothering you about our sessions, it's would help if we talked about it."
"No."
"Ana….please," he tries to take my hands in his but I quickly pull them away. We're not in a scene right now, he doesn't need to touch me.
"Are we done?" I ask.
"You've earned yourself two punishments," he sighs heavily.
"Two? For what?" I gulp. I've managed to avoid punishments up until now, the thought absolutely terrifying me.
"You weren't prepared for today's session when I arrived even though you were here on time and you failed to follow one of the rules when we were in the main room," he reminds me.
"Yes sir," even though I want to argue like hell I know he's right.
"Stand next to the bed, with your chest flat on it," he instructs and I reluctantly do as he says not wanting to add to my punishments. I hear him opening and closing drawers behind me but I have no idea what he's doing. My mind is going through all the possibilities; the image of the welts that were left by the belt on the woman's ass is all I can see. Is the belt on my list of hard limits? How is it I can't remember what I checked when we first met with Mark and Sawyer?
"You were doing really well," Christian rubs his hand over my back before lifting my dress up to my waist. "Yesterday, you pleased me with how you embraced the scene. Today I knew something was bothering you, but when you didn't want to talk about it I thought it was best not to push it. Then, you pushed whatever was going on aside and focused on the scenes in the main room. Again you pleased me at how well you did. Although I knew the belt scene bothered you, you were didn't make that obvious to everyone in the room. You were so into the last scene that you didn't notice the other couple watching me pleasure you."
They were watching me?!
"You've done so well the last few days Ana," his hand rubs gently over my ass. "If you want to talk about whatever was bothering you this morning and what caused you to practically run to the ladies room, we can stop the punishments right now and talk about it."
"No….sir," even though I'm dreading the punishments I'm not ready to talk about what's bothering me. Because I know if I start talking, I'm going to ask him what happened 10 years ago. The thought of hearing how he fell in love with another woman, married her and had a child together sickens me. We weren't supposed to fall in love with anyone else. We were supposed to be the ones getting married and at some point I was the one who was supposed to have his child. It wasn't supposed to be some woman he met while we were apart.
"Very well," he sighs. "You've earned five swats with the cat for leaving my side in the main room after you were told not to. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," I whisper. Sawyer used the cat o nines on me once, the sting of the beads hurt, especially since they all hit in different spots at the same time.
He doesn't make me count and when it meets my skin for the first time I'm glad for that because I don't know that I could even remember how to count. I cry out as it hits me a second time; the pain isn't unbearable although I wouldn't say it's tolerable either. I'm embarrassed and ashamed at myself for not following the rules. I know I brought this on myself. I know that in a week when Simpson and I are undercover that this is what's going to be expected of me. I force myself to remember that this is preparing me for the mission and what's at stake in this mission.
"Are you okay Ana?" Christian's voice pulls me back to reality. I wipe the tears from my face, having no idea when I started crying or why.
"Yeah," I whisper. "Are we done?"
"We're not going to finish," he says. "I need to apply some ointment, don't move just yet."
He returns only seconds later and lightly spreads the ointment on my ass and upper thighs. I have no idea what he's putting on, but the effects are almost immediate. Without saying a word, he takes my hand and leads me over to the loveseat where I slowly sit down on a soft blanket he placed there. He wraps another blanket over me before handing me a bottle of water and a couple of pills. When I look at him, he informs me it's an over the counter pain reliever to help with the discomfort.
"That was your first punishment," he says rather than asks.
"Yes sir," I reply anyway.
"What did you think?"
"It hurt…but I think I was more embarrassed," I say quietly.
"That's how you were mean to feel," he points out. "Punishments and discipline exist for a reason; we want to curb whatever behavior led to it in the first place. In this instance it was not following a rule that if you were undercover could have had serious consequences."
"I know."
"Tomorrow before our session, I want you to write what was bothering you when you arrived today and what caused you to leave my side so quickly when Mark stopped us. I want you to bring it with you to our session-"
"But-"
"I'm not going to read it or ask you to tell me what you've written," he interrupts. "Even though I want you to tell me what's going on and I think by doing so we could move forward with your training, I understand you don't want to. But keeping it bottled up inside isn't going to help either. So write it out, put it in a sealed envelope and bring it to session tomorrow. You have my word I won't read it."
I glare at him, telling him without words that his word means nothing to me.
"Ana," he sighs. "I really wish you would ask me what happened-"
"No."
"At some point we're going to need to-"
"No we won't. In a matter of days I'll leave to go with Simpson undercover and then we'll never have to see each other again."
"You'd walk away? Just like that?"
"Why wouldn't I? It's exactly what you did to me," I point out.
"Ana-"
"If we're done here I would like to get changed," I end the conversation that has gone on far longer than I wanted.
"Fine," he nods.
With Christian still in the room, I changed out of the dress having long ago forgotten how revealing it was and toss on the jeans and shirt I wore here. As he has every day this week, Christian waits for me to get ready and then walks me out to the parking lot.
"If you're still in discomfort, take two more pills in four hours," he says before we reach the exit. "It shouldn't cause you any problems sleeping tonight, but if it does try sleeping on your stomach. A warm bath should also help."
"It's fine," there's barely any discomfort.
"Where's…Kevin?" Christian asks scanning the parking lot.
"Fuck…I forgot to arrange for an Uber pick up," I sigh digging in my purse for my phone.
"I'll drive you," he says.
"That's not necessary. I'm sure I can get a car here in a few minutes-"
"Ana, it's late and I know you're exhausted. Let me drive you home," he argues.
"Fine."
He leads me to a shiny black audi that looks nearly brand new; the interior is just as impressive as the outside is with no so much as a piece of trash anywhere inside.
"Kevin working late?" he asks although I'm sure he knows that's not likely considering it's after 10 at night.
"He won't be picking me up any longer," I stare out the window as we pull out.