Chapter 6 Revised

Anita: I am. Give me an address and I'll be there.

Andrew: Do you like Indian food?

Anita grinned.

Anita: I absolutely love Indian food.

That wasn't even an exaggeration.

Andrew: There's a restaurant in Atlanta I like. It's about a block from my house.

Anita paused.

House.

Interesting.

Not that she was investigating him.

She was absolutely investigating him.

There was a difference.

Anita: The one on Heath Avenue?

Andrew: Yes. That one.

Anita knew the restaurant.

More importantly, she knew the area.

Public enough.

Busy enough.

Good.

Andrew: Sunday at six? Dinner?

Anita looked at the message for a moment.

Her stomach fluttered.

A date.

An actual date.

The first one she had agreed to in longer than she cared to calculate.

She typed before she could overthink herself into canceling.

Anita: Perfect. I'll meet you there.

And just like that, Anita had plans.

Sunday.

Six o'clock.

Atlanta.

With Andrew.

The handsome stranger from the BDSM website.

Her life had apparently decided subtle changes were overrated.

Their conversation didn't end after making plans.

If anything, agreeing to meet seemed to make them both more comfortable.

They talked about work.

Family.

Relationships.

Eventually, inevitably, the conversation returned to the reason they had encountered each other in the first place.

BDSM.

Anita stared at the message box for several seconds before typing.

Anita: Can I ask you something?

Andrew: You can ask me anything.

She raised an eyebrow.

Dangerous statement.

Anita: What kind of Dom are you?

She added quickly:

I mean, what does that actually mean to you?

This mattered.

The novels Anita had been reading showed wildly different versions of dominance.

Some appealed to her.

Others absolutely did not.

If Andrew informed her that his idea of a relationship revolved around humiliation and cruelty, she would politely thank him for his time and block him before he finished the sentence.

Probably without the polite part.

His reply took longer this time.

When it finally appeared, Anita read carefully.

Andrew: I think of myself more as a teacher and a guide.

Interesting.

She continued.

I like challenging the person I'm with to understand herself better. That can include intimacy, but it also means encouraging her to make better choices for herself outside of it.

Another message followed.

I suppose authoritarian would be one description, but nurturing is equally important to me. Control without responsibility isn't dominance.

Anita reread the last sentence.

Then read it again.

“Okay, Andrew.”

That answer she liked.

A lot.

It was completely different from the caricature she had half expected.

She began typing.

Anita: I don't really know what type of submissive I am yet.

Honesty first.

But I think I know what I'm looking for.

Andrew responded almost immediately.

Andrew: What are you looking for, Anita?

She stopped.

That question shouldn't have felt difficult.

But it did.

Because for the first time, someone was asking her to define something she had only allowed herself to imagine.

Anita stared at the blinking cursor.

Then she wrote.

Anita: Someone who pays attention to my emotional well-being.

She paused before continuing.

Someone I can trust enough to guide me. In the bedroom, yes, but also sometimes in regular life.

Another pause.

I'm not saying I want somebody controlling every decision I make. That would drive me insane.

She smiled.

But I've spent most of my adult life being responsible for everything. I think...with the right person, it might be nice not to have to do that all the time.

Her finger hovered.

Then she added:

I could accept guidance from someone who earned enough trust for me to believe he actually had my best interests in mind.

Anita read the message twice.

There.

That was probably the most truthful explanation she had ever given herself.

She pressed Send.

For a few moments, Andrew didn't answer.

Then the notification chimed.

Andrew: Anita, I think there is a great deal I could teach you.

Her heartbeat picked up slightly.

A second message appeared.

Especially about what submission actually means.

Then another.

And what a Dominant owes the person who chooses to trust him.

Anita became very still.

That last sentence caught her attention more than anything else he had written.

Not what a submissive owed her Dominant.

What the Dominant owed her.

Anita leaned back against the headboard.

Maybe she had been thinking about the entire dynamic too simply.

Maybe Andrew wasn't exactly what she imagined finding when she created her account.

That might be a good thing.

Her laptop remained warm against her thighs while their conversation continued late into the evening.

Thirty minutes earlier, Anita had returned to her room wondering whether anyone had answered her message.

Now she had a date.

With a stranger.

A ridiculously handsome stranger.

A stranger who lived in Atlanta, apparently owned a house, possessed steady employment, and spoke about trust as though it carried actual weight.

Anita smiled at the screen.

Sunday suddenly felt very far away.