The Anniversary

  A SUBMISSIVE SERIES NOVELLA

  TARA SUE ME

  AFTER SIX PUBLISHING

  Copyright © 2022 by Tara Sue Me

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN Ebook: 978-1-950017-36-2

  ISBN Print: 978-1-950017-37-9

  Contents

  Note

  One: Sasha

  Two: Sasha

  Three: Sasha

  Four: Cole

  Five: Sasha

  Six: Sasha

  Seven: Cole

  Eight: Sasha

  Nine: Sasha

  Ten: Sasha

  Eleven: Sasha

  Twelve: Sasha

  Thirteen: Sasha

  Fourteen: Cole

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Tara Sue Me

  About the Author

  Note

  Cole and Sasha surprised me with this novella, and since its timeframe is so specific, readers may recognize it doesn’t fit chronologically after THE PRETENDER.

  It takes place after TOP TROUBLE and before NATHANIEL’S GIFT.

  One: Sasha

  Two weeks after proposal

  Light tapping and clicking filled the room as Sasha leaned close to her computer, absentmindedly chewing the inside of her cheek. Her eyes scanned the screen. She wanted to make the perfect purchase, to bring to life the picture she had in her mind. Things never really went according to plan or how she imagined them, but she could act like they did.

  “Sasha?” The familiar voice made her smile.

  Cole came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. She moaned at the strength evident in his hands. They felt good on her shoulders. Or anywhere else on her body.

  “Still looking over the order for what you want to plant?” He peered over her shoulder at the computer screen.

  “I want to make sure I don’t forget anything.” She clicked on the shopping cart icon to look over her selections. He knew she could be a perfectionist, but she was satisfied with what she’d decided on for now. If not, she could always order more later. “I still wish I could come up with a way to transport the maze from the house in England here.”

  “If there was a way, I would have found it,” he murmured.

  She didn’t doubt that in the slightest. It was almost scary how willing he seemed to give her anything she wanted. Though it wasn’t the material things that made her feel safe and loved. It was him. “You spoil me, you know. I might end up turning into a brat one day as a result.”

  He chuckled as his fingertips pressed into her shoulders slightly more. His grip was possessive, claiming, and she reveled in it. “One, it’s my right to spoil you as I see fit. And two, you don’t have it in you to be a brat. Besides, if you did, and you became one, I’d just beat it out of you.”

  She laughed and submitted the plant order. “There. All done.”

  “Excellent.” He pulled her chair out. Once she stood and turned toward him, he framed her face in his hands, holding her still as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her forehead. In every movement and word, he reminded her that she was his. “Come with me.”

  He took her hand and she trailed behind him through the house, becoming more and more curious with every step. With anyone else, unpredictability would be stressful, but not with Cole. With him, it only made things more interesting.

  It didn’t take long for her to realize where they were going. Her grip on his hand tightened, and she pulled back a bit. Cole continued on as if she never faltered. But when he stopped in front of the door she’d guessed correctly, she shook her head. It was the one room in their house she never went in. The only one she’d never stepped foot inside.

  Of all the Doms she’d ever known, Cole had the most extensive toy collection of anyone. Sure, he had a few favorites he had scattered throughout the house, but this room was where the bulk of his collection was kept. From what she gathered by listening to those who had been inside, it was impressive and contained several rare and even antique pieces.

  “Sir,” she protested when he opened the door and indicated that she step inside. Her mind and heart battled. One, unsure she was ready to be immersed in the intensity ahead, and the other willing to follow Cole’s beckoning.

  “Trust me on this, little one,” he said in the gentle and patient tone he had that never belittled her fears and anxieties, but rather, encouraged her to face them. “I could tell you what you’ll discover inside, but it’ll be so much more powerful for you to see with your own eyes.”

  She had a fairly good idea of what she’d see inside, but she bit her tongue, and instead asked, “Are you coming with me?”

  “Do you honestly think I’d give you free rein to look over my collection?” He teased. “What if I’ve somehow managed to piss you off and you decide to take it out on my vintage floggers?”

  “You have vintage floggers?” She’d half thought that part was a joke.

  He smiled and nodded toward the room. “You won’t know until you look.”

  Satisfied he would be with her and feeling a bit foolish for hesitating in the first place, she took a step into the room. The soothing scent of cedar and polished leather surrounded her, calming her at once. It reminded her of Cole.

  It was a small space, but it looked larger than it was due to the meticulous way it’d been organized. Hand-carved wooden racks and shelves filled two walls, and one was lined with a matching countertop, complete with drawers under and cabinets above. The fourth was almost completely covered by a tall cabinet. She darted her eyes away as soon as she realized what was more than likely inside.

  She didn’t try to hide her reaction from Cole. He watched her so closely, there was no way he could have missed it. Instead of bringing it up or asking her about it, he led her to the opposite side of the room.

  He guided her over to a rack and reached up to unhook a black, metal bar with leather cuffs attached to each end. He moved to stand in front of her, holding the bar in his hands with an inviting grin on his face. “Put your hands in the cuffs.”

  She slipped her hands through the loose, leather cuffs. He spread the bar wider, forcing her hands apart, and she lifted her eyes up to his.

  “It’s been too long since we’ve played with a spreader bar. Maybe later today?” His eyes trailed along her figure, even as he slid the bar back together and released her.

  “Yes, and please, and thank you, Sir.”

  He laughed and slipped his hand around hers, leading her to a shelf displaying smaller items. They’d played with them in the past. She recognized several blindfold and ropes and shuddered in pleasure at the memories.

  He ran a finger down her arm. “Everything here has been used for your pleasure, correct, little one?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  They spent, perhaps, twenty minutes looking at everything other than the large piece of furniture she tried to pretend wasn’t there. She wasn’t sure why since it was almost certain what the contents were.

  When they stood before the towering cabinet, she had a sudden rush of fear overtake her, thinking that he would ask her to open it. She almost took a step back, but felt frozen to the spot, unable to move and unable to look away from the wooden doors. She closed her eyes.

  “Little one,” Cole whispered from beside her. He didn’t continue with his train of thought. Instead, he pulled open the two doors. “Look.”

  Opening her eyes to find what she knew would be a massive bullwhip collection was the very last thing she wanted to do. But it was Cole who asked. And it was only for him that she would do so. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and opened her eyes.

  It was empty.

  She released the breath that she had been holding, her eyes sweeping over the empty cabinet. Question upon question rushed through her mind. Where were the bullwhips? Why were they missing? She knew he had some.

  He appeared unsurprised at her reaction. Of course, chances were he’d anticipated it. Without missing a beat, he waved to the empty space. “What was once my bullwhip collection.”

  She swallowed hard. “What happened to them?”

  The empty cabinet almost spooked her more than it would have had it been filled with the single tails. Had he moved them somewhere else? What if she stumbled upon them unaware?

  “When you agreed to marry me, I sold them all,” he said as if it was the most logical explanation ever.

  “Because of me?” She would have never asked him to do such a thing. Based on what she’d overheard from other Dominants, it was clear how much he treasured his collection. He went through great lengths and money to select the best pieces, to have the best quality.

  And he’d sold part of it, just like that.

  He nodded, not looking fazed at all, and gently cupped her cheek. “It wasn’t a hard decision to make, little one. No matter what, I choose you every single time without hesitation. I know how you feel about them, and I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable in our home.”

  She gazed up at him, not even attempting to speak, but simply letting his words soak in. Again and again, he showed his care for her. Even when in complete control, he always put her first. N
o matter what happened, he would protect her and care for her. “Thank you, Sir. You didn’t have to.”

  He gave her a pointed look, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers. The motion was affectionate, gentle. He could be the opposite during the right time, but now, even surrounded by all things risqué, he caressed her softly. “You’re right. I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”

  As always, she felt safe in his hold, and in that safety was peace. What happened before with Peter wouldn’t happen again. She had to move forward, and she had the best person by her side to move on with. “You’re so good to me, Sir.”

  Her head tilted. “You deserve the world, and yet you don’t seem to believe it. One day, I hope you see things my way. You should be good to the ones you love. Anything else isn’t love.”

  “I love you.” She meant those words through and through without a doubt in her mind. It was easy to love him, to give herself over to him. He could tie her up, press her into a mattress, or twist her body any which way, but every move and order came from a place of care.

  “I love you, little one.” He leaned down to capture her lips in a soft kiss. One of the million different ways he showed his love.

  She melted into him, not wanting to leave his hold or feel his lips part from hers. Right now, this moment was perfect. It was all that it needed to be as they held each other close.

  He deepened the kiss, his teeth caressing her bottom lip in a subtle bite. His hand drifted to her waist, brushing her skin with appreciation and desire. He had expressed over and over again his love for her body.

  Eventually, he loosened his grip and broke the kiss. He reached up to stroke her cheek as he peered at her, his expression softening. “Let me start dinner. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

  Even if she told him that she didn’t have an appetite right now, he would still encourage her to eat something. She was no longer skin and bones, and she loved her new curves. “Sounds wonderful, Sir.”

  They walked to the door, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking over her shoulder at the empty cabinet. She was still learning not to tiptoe through life, and needed to let go of the past. She couldn’t move on while still holding it. A life full of wonder awaited her, with a fiancé who loved her. There were endless possibilities ahead, if she moved forward. How long would it take for the past not to haunt her every move?

  Two: Sasha

  Two Years Later

  Sasha couldn’t believe how quickly time passed. She blinked and suddenly they were preparing to celebrate their first wedding anniversary.

  As she dried off after her shower, she couldn’t help but smile thinking back over the last eleven months.

  It had been a year of continued growth and healing. She believed she was better off now than she was even a year ago. And nowhere close to how she was in what felt like a lifetime ago.

  Healing had been a process, and she hadn’t done it alone. Of course, she had Cole and her group of friends, but there was another person. Dr. Grant was in the lifestyle and was also a therapist. At one point, Sasha had spoken to her nearly everyday. Now they only touched base about once a month. Sasha wasn’t sure what Dr. Grant would think when she heard what she wanted to talk about.

  She wanted Cole to use a bullwhip on her.

  For complete closure. To not only put an end to that chapter, but to shut it tight and never pick it back up for a reread. Maybe it was crazy and a little too far, but if she could handle Cole using one on her, she believed she’d finally be able to put everything about the incident with Peter behind her.

  Before slipping on her shirt, she paused in front of the bathroom mirror, peering at her own reflection. She turned slightly, looking at the faint, white scars that stretched across her back. She never liked how they looked. Her skin used to be smooth, flawless. Now, she just felt ugly every time she saw those scars. She didn’t want to look at them anymore.

  Cole had mentioned getting a tattoo to go over the scars, and that had been her intention. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make up her mind about what she wanted. And it wasn’t like she could just erase it later if she decided she wanted something else.

  You can’t erase the bullwhip marks, either, she told herself. That was fine, she didn’t want to erase them so much as to replace them with something happier. Or that was her plan, anyway.

  Before she proposed her plan to Cole, she wanted to run it by Dr. Grant.

  After grabbing her things, she left the house and headed to Dr. Grant’s office, checking in at the front desk and taking a seat in the small waiting room. Her foot tapped against the gray, carpeted floor as her mind tuned out the faint jazz music playing from a speaker mounted somewhere.

  “Sasha?”

  Sasha’s head snapped up as Dr. Grant stood in the doorway of her office. She rose to her feet, greeting the middle-aged woman with a polite nod as she strode into her office. Over the years she’d been coming to this office, Sasha had spent a good deal of time trying to decide if Dr. Grant was a Dominant or submissive. The woman didn’t seem to fit either category, and Sasha had finally decided she was a switch.

  “How are you feeling today?” Dr. Grant asked with a smile as she sat in one of two cushioned seats separated by a coffee table and reached over to pick up her notepad and pen.

  Sasha nearly sat on the edge of the other chair. No matter how comfortable she was around Dr. Grant, she couldn’t bring herself to lounge back in the chair. Especially not today. Not when she was ready to finally discuss her plan. Cole would turn her down immediately. Hopefully, it’d help her case if she could get Dr. Grant on her side. “I’m doing well.”

  “You seem a bit tense today.” Dr. Grant tilted her head. “Is something on your mind?”

  Sasha wiped her palms against her jeans. She was so certain about her plan, surely it wouldn’t be shot down before she could put it into motion. “I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately, about my progress.”

  Dr. Grant nodded. “You’ve come a long way, Sasha. You should be proud.”

  “I am, and I think it’s time for the next step.” Sasha took a deep breath. She was actually ready to say it out loud, there was no turning back now. “I want Cole to use a bullwhip on me.”

  “Interesting.” Dr. Grant tried to keep her face straight, but a look of surprise still appeared. She cleared her throat and wrote something down on her notepad before giving Sasha a curious look. “What do you believe that will help you accomplish?”

  “Ever since Peter, bullwhips have been like darkness to me. I don’t want to shy away from the dark anymore. I want to run into it and come out on the other side, in the light. This is how I plan to do it. With Cole.” She closed her eyes for a second and imagined being in his embrace. “I’m so safe with him.”

  Dr. Grant breathed in slowly before scooting closer to the edge of her seat, leaning closer. “I see your reasoning. However, I’m concerned it might be a step too much. You’ve come so far. I wouldn’t want you to unravel all of that progress.”

  Maybe it was a big step, but Sasha felt ready. She loved Cole. Trusted him. He could make a positive association with the bullwhip for her, and it would be a shared experience together. “I’m ready. Cole won’t hurt me.”

  “I’m not doubting Cole. I know he’ll be very careful. If he agrees, that is. But you’ll probably still feel frightened. It’s good to face your fears, yes, but it’s important to go at a slow enough pace so you don’t overwhelm yourself. Maybe you start by spending time alone with a bullwhip. Take baby steps,” Dr. Grant explained.

  That was too slow. She was tired of taking baby steps. “I know I’m ready. I trust Cole. If I feel like I’m in over my head, I’ll safeword.”

  Dr. Grant held her gaze for a moment before nodding. “This is your recovery, Sasha. If you believe you’re ready, I’ll support you in this.”