Max leaned his forehead against Callie’s and she felt the tremor of emotion flow through his body and into hers.
Slowly he rose and then extended his hand down to her. Wordlessly. Just a look that told her it wasn’t a request. Relief surged, making her shaky as she allowed him to pull her to her feet. He led her to the bed, pulled the covers back, and then motioned for her to crawl in.
He then sat on the edge, his body angled so he faced her. His expression was serious and a little uncertain. This wasn’t the Max she was used to.
“When I saw her,” he said in a low voice. “When I saw the bruises, when she told me what happened and she explained the relationship she had with this asshole, it sickened me. And then I began to think, is this me? Am I like that?”
Callie gasped. Of all the things she thought might be wrong, this certainly hadn’t been a consideration. It horrified her that Max was mentally comparing himself to the man who’d abused his sister.
He shook his head, a silent command for her to remain quiet.
“I’m controlling. You know this. I know this. From the day we met, I took over. I took, you gave. I dominated, you submitted. Some of the things that we do … God, Callie, can you imagine how someone looking in from the outside would view our relationship? Can you imagine if Lauren walked in when you’re across my lap and I’m spanking your ass? Or when I have you tied up and I’m fucking your ass after I’ve reddened it with a crop? How do you think that would look to her? Hell, she’d be calling nineone-one.”
Callie swallowed hard but remained silent as he continued.
“Do you know what would happen if one of your fathers or your brothers ever saw the marks on your body from one of our encounters? You have to know that I’m extremely careful with placement so that you don’t have to answer uncomfortable questions to your family and so they won’t come after me with a shotgun. Because if they ever so much as thought that I was hurting you, they’d kill me, dolcezza. They’d do it without remorse.”
“Oh Max,” she whispered. “Don’t you see the difference?”
Max closed his eyes. “I used to see it. Or rather, I thought I did. I told myself that I loved you and that you loved me and that this was a consensual relationship. I justified it in my head. I made excuses. But then I really looked hard and I asked myself what made me any different than the bastard who put those bruises on Lauren’s body?”
Callie leaned forward, cupping Max’s jaw in her palm. With her other hand, she laced her fingers through his and brought his hand up until it lay against her heart.
“When you aren’t so raw with grief over what’s happened to Lauren, you’ll realize how very different the situations are. You do nothing that I don’t want. You do nothing that we haven’t agreed upon. I can say no at any time. You pamper and spoil me endlessly. You take care of me. You give me everything I could ever possibly need or want. And you love me.
“He didn’t love Lauren. He wanted to control her. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to intimidate her. To him she was a thing. Something to vent his temper on. When have you ever touched me in anger? When have you ever lost control and struck me in anger?”
Max still looked indecisive and tortured.
“Are you trying to say that I don’t know the difference between love and abuse?” she asked softly. “That I don’t have a mind of my own and that you do all my thinking for me? That I’m just a puppet dancing on your strings? That I obey without question or that I’m too afraid to stand up to you?”
He visibly recoiled. “Hell no. You’re one of the strongest willed women I know.”