Free No Strings Attached by Erin Lark

and I thought I had it under control until—”
    “The other night.” He nodded his understanding. “It's one thing for a vanilla couple to experiment with kink, but something else entirely when it comes to our lifestyle and trying to be something we aren't.”
    “You sound like you're talking from experience.”
    “Maybe I am, but you obviously are. Listen, I'm not going to pry, but at least now I understand why you were hesitant the other night. We have a good thing here, our friendship. You're probably thinking there's no way we can build a new relationship, professional or otherwise, without screwing up what we already have. Am I right?”
    “Pretty much.”
    He reached across the middle cushion and squeezed my hands. “And you think you're the only one with those fears?” He drew in a deep breath, and when his gaze met mine again, his expression softened. “If there's one thing fear has taught me, it's that the cause is usually worth it. I was scared to death when I started conducting, but I did it anyway because it gave me that rush. These days, I couldn't be a violinist, even if my life depended on it. I've come too far. Lived this life too long. Same thing goes for being a Dom, or you being a sub. Try and hide it all you like, but even if you keep the truth from everyone else, it will always be there.”
    “I'm beginning to see that.”
    “Then why sound so disappointed? Are you ashamed of who you are?”
    While I might not have been happy with Bret or my job, the disgust I felt had never been with myself, but the circumstances I constantly faced. “No, I don't think I am. But he—” He wasn't a real Dom. More like he wasn't the Dom I expected him to be.
    He'd always been open to the idea of kink, and when I told him I was a sub, he decided to give the role of a Dom a try. Problem is, you can't learn to be a Dom or a sub. It's a part of oneself—a trait I thought I saw in Bret a very long time ago.
    I was dead wrong. The control I freely gave to him out of trust was abused. He took it as my giving him permission to disrespect me as a person. I tried to tell him there was a certain balance between a sub and her Dom. I told him there were different levels of control. I was only looking for it in the bedroom whereas he saw my obedience as an opportunity to make him his personal slave.
    And that wasn't what I signed on for.
    “If you aren't ashamed of yourself or your submission, why hide from it? Submission is a thing of beauty, especially when you can give up that control over yourself to someone you trust.”
    “You do realize how wrong this is—us talking about our sex lives, don't you?”
    “Not really, no. We aren't talking about our lives, we're talking about the dynamic we shared the other night. Those are two entirely different things. Now, would it be wrong to badmouth exes and go over all that crap until we figured out what was going on between us? Yes. But this? We're talking about the same things you'd probably discuss if you went to one of the private parties in Philly.”
    “Even if I'm not sure I want to live the lifestyle anymore?”
    He shrugged. “Like I said, you can hide it all you want, but it's always going to be somewhere in the back of your mind.” He folded one leg under the other. “Tell me something, when did you realize I was a Dom?”
    “I didn't—or well, I couldn't know for sure.”
    “But you had suspicions.”
    “Yes.”
    “When?”
    “Our having sex aside, isn't this too personal?”
    “Perhaps.” He reached for the takeout bag on the table, and while the burger was likely cold by now, he unwrapped it anyway. “I can tell you when I knew you were a submissive.” He took a bite of his sandwich, then offered me the fries that were sitting in the bottom of the bag.
    I waved my hand. “I'll pass, but thank you.” It amazed me to see him acting so casually about this, especially considering we'd shared his bed last week. “So, when did you know?”
    He set