Page 63 of Dignity

Chapter Eighteen

Early the next morning, two weeks after Christopher walked back into my life, I’m wearing my glasses, my hair is mussed the way Chris prefers it, four days’ of scruff darken my cheeks, and no one appears to recognize me as we sit at the gate in Tallahassee International and await our flight to Dulles. I fight the urge to shift and squirm in my seat. Before wefell asleep last night, Chris striped my ass and the backs of my thighs with a riding crop before we fucked each other nearly to exhaustion.

Every movement reminds me of that play, and the other play from these past two weeks, and makes my cock chub in my jeans.

The bracelet is fastened on my right wrist. Unless he orders me otherwise, I’m only allowed to take it off for flying, or securitychecks. But already, I like the feel of its weight on my wrist. It’s a comfort.

It reminds me of his touch.

“Nervous?” he asks without looking up from his Kindle.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be.” His lips barely move as he speaks and his voice is low. I realize what he’s doing, but I hate that in this way we can’t even be a normal couple.

“Easy for you to say. No one knows who you are.”

He eases hisleft hand onto my thigh, squeezes, and leaves it there. The action is concealed by his jacket and mine, and that we’re sitting in the last two chairs closest to the windows.

“What’s the plan for the rest of the day?” I ask.

It’s annoying that he won’t look up from his Kindle, but on the other hand, if someone does recognize me, it’ll be harder for them to say we were talking to each other ifhe keeps up the act like this. “Uber to my place to get my car. Then we have errands to run before we go to your place.”

“What errands?”

“You’ll see.” From the way the corner of his mouth twitches, I know he’s amused.

And that’s the last I get out of him about our plans.

The flight to Dulles is easy, and at least we can hold hands during the flight, with his jacket covering the armrest. I’mterrified I might be recognized once we touch down in DC. To the point that I put on a baseball hat and keep my head down and keep my gaze focused only on Chris’ ass as I follow him to baggage claim, and then out to get in the Uber.

DC is cold, grey, slushy, and a far cry from the sunny sixty-two degrees we left in Tallahassee.

I’m already missing Florida even more than I usually do when I returnto DC.

I want to be back there, tucked away in my house, with Chris, and forgetting about the world outside.

He lives in a small condo building in a midscale area about twenty minutes outside downtown, but we don’t even go inside the building. Instead, once the Uber drops us off, we head straight for the parking garage, put our bags in the back hatch of his black Toyota 4Runner, and off we goagain.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

Christopher’s green eyes are unreadable behind his mirrored sunglasses. He doesn’t glance away from the road as he drives. “Shopping.”

“Shopping? For what?”

“You need a new look. Shae’s paying for it.”

That’s all he says.

I shut up and sit back, knowing I’m literally along for the ride at this point. Might as well go with it.

Not like I have a choice.Because I don’t. I won’t give Chris up again.

Besides, I need the damn job. Shae hasn’t announced my role yet, though.

That’s something else on my plate—talking to Lauren today.

It surprises me when we pull into the parking lot of an optometrist’s office. Looks like a private one, not a chain store, and there are only two other cars in the parking lot.