The Art of Submission by Ella Dominguez Read Free Book Online Page B

is really starting to irk
me. Why is he being like that to me? He doesn’t even know me. I
just need to tell him I want to make a deal or maybe buy them back.
I just need to say it with a little bit of conviction this time to
get my point across. Here it goes…
    What? Is he actually laughing at me? What the
hell is so funny? That’s it. I’ve had it with this uppity, albeit
gorgeous, male.
    “Why do you find that funny, Mr. Young?” I
snap at him.
    Now he really lets me have it and I’m
immediately chastened. But he’s got it all wrong; I never wanted to
sell my paintings . My precious
paintings…. My heart is starting to break again,
because I know he’s absolutely right; I can’t afford to buy them
back. What right do I have to even ask for them back? He bought
them fair and square, and Greer let him. Damn you Greer. I feel sick to my stomach and I
feel like crying. I just need to hold it together and get through
this conversation. He said he really likes them and I can only hope
that he’s telling the truth. I just need to let this be. My
paintings are gone and that’s the end of it. I end the conversation
with one last plea, “Just please promise to take care of them,” and
I hang up.
    The moment I hit the ‘end’ button, I
completely break down. Only a moment later, my phone rings again.
It’s him. No. I can’t talk to him. I send it to voicemail. I just
want to sleep the rest of my afternoon away and wallow in my own
self-pity. My voicemail alerts me to a message a few minutes later.
He left a message? Why? To chastise me again? To remind me just how
inadequate I am? I can’t listen to it - not now, not ever, and I
delete it without a second thought.

Chapter 5
    Dylan
    I spend most of Saturday morning
kicking myself for the way my conversation with Isabel went. It’s
11:30 and I thought she would’ve called by now . I hoped she would’ve called by now . I need to
go into the office for a few hours and get some overdue work done
and get my mind off the girl.
    On the drive over to the office, I can’t help
replaying our conversation over in my head. What the hell was I
thinking? I know better than to let my alter ego out in public.
He’s gotten me into trouble on more than one occasion by rearing
his ugly head.
    I start to rethink my plan. I’m not
sure this girl is cut out to be a submissive. She definitely acts
like one, but she has a feisty side as well and I don’t want to
scare her away with my lewd suggestion. I’ll just take it slow.
Anyway, she hasn’t even called me back, so I’m getting way ahead of
myself here. For now, I just want to see more of her paintings
and her .
    At the office, I look over at the
paintings and feel a twinge of sadness at the idea of giving them
back. Do I really want to do that? Not really, but if it’s the only
way I can win Isabel’s trust, I guess I’ll have to. Again, I’m
getting way ahead of myself. I just can’t stop thinking about her.
Those eyes. That voice. Those
paintings… .
    Why the hell hasn’t she called me back?
It’s 1:45. I don’t wait for women. Ever. This girl is starting to irritate me. She
could at least have the common courtesy of returning my call to let
me know if she’s amenable to discussing her paintings, one way or
the other. I just need to finish up my work here and get my mind
off of the whole situation.
    It’s now 2:30 in the afternoon and I’ve
finished with my work. Still… no call from Isabel. Maybe I’ll just
drive by her place on my way home. Just then my phone rings and I’m
struck with a feeling of anticipation.
    “Young here.” Shit, it’s not Isabel. It’s my
right hand man Sawyer. There’s a situation with one of our clients
in Dallas.
    “Young, Sawyer here. Security has been
breached and we need you here ASAP. Sorry, but there’s no way
around it. “
    Sawyer always has the shittiest timing. It’s
not his fault. It’s the nature of this business, I suppose. At
least the trip will take my mind