by Peyton Banks
One of her neighbors, Patricia Bronson—the nosy widow who lived across the street and never let anything out of her eagle sight—approached Renee, her dark face pale with sadness.
“You all right, sweetie?” the older woman asked after the ambulance rushed off in a cacophony of sirens and horns.
Renee swallowed. “Yeah… but… Rahim… he’s…”
Patricia shook her head slowly, her face contorting as though she were about to cry. She removed her glasses and rubbed one of the lenses with the bottom of her shirt. “Oh, that handsome, heroic young man, risking his life like that. I went out to water my flowers, and I saw the whole thing.”
Renee chewed her bottom lip, wondering if Patricia had seen everything, including her and Rahim’s heated argument that had led up to the accident. She watched two police officers get statements from some of the neighbors. She’d probably have to give one too. It’s my fault. I did this...
“People zoom up and down this street like it’s the autobahn,” Patricia continued, frowning. “I keep telling the neighbors around here to keep a better eye on their kids outside because something like this might happen. Thank goodness Erin’s kids are okay. But…” Patricia averted her gaze.
This had to be some sort of nightmare. After briefly speaking with the police officers, Renee rushed back to her house. Then she jumped into her car and sped off toward the hospital.
5
Rahim wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming. Or having a nightmare. The two children playing in the street continuously replayed in his mind, and Renee’s image flashed. Rahim couldn’t wake up. There was a scream. A crash. Blackness surrounded him. His ears rang from the deathly silence. Then the ringing began to dissipate, replaced by a steady machinelike beeping. He struggled to open his eyes and stared up at a plain white ceiling. Where am I?
His nose immediately picked up the scent of peaches, cinnamon, and nutmeg. The scent made his mouth water. Peach cobbler. He smiled slightly but stopped when he began to remember things. Peaches. Renee. Groaning, he tried to sit up. A stinging pain shot through his body, and he collapsed back onto the bed.
Someone hovered over him. It was the source of the peach smell. He looked up, the person’s outline blurring as Rahim’s body adjusted to another sharp pain. The image soon came into focus. It was a beautiful woman. Renee. Her face taut with concern, Renee reached out and placed her hand over his. Her soft touch eased some tension in his body, but the machine continued its steady, annoying beep. He finally recognized the sound. I’m in a hospital?
Renee’s face was full of guilt and sadness, and tears streamed from her bloodshot eyes and down her cheeks. She sniffled and watched him intently. Is she crying for me? Why is she even here?
He opened his mouth and tried to speak. Then he realized his right arm and both legs were bound in casts. He struggled to move. “R… Renee?” he whispered.
She stopped crying and looked at him wide-eyed. “Oh my gosh! You’re finally awake!”
He furrowed his brow. “‘Finally’? How long have I been out?”
“Three days.”
He gasped.
She wiped away her tears. “I can’t believe what happened to you. I just… can’t… I was so worried.”
He smiled weakly. “Now you know why I prefer to stay inside.”
She rubbed the top of his hand. “If you hadn’t had gone outside, I might not be here right now…”
He looked at their hands as the tragic movie played in his mind again. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, thanks to you. I mean, after that fight we had, I didn’t think you would do that.”
Fight… Bits and pieces of that day began to come together. Frowning, he withdrew his hand from hers. “Oh… yeah…”
Her eyes dulled. “Look, I’m sorry for overreacting when you told me you advertised my business to all your fans. I didn’t realize you were such a celebrity. I was overwhelmed with more inquiries that I could handle. But I know you were just trying to help, and I’m grateful that you did it. I now have enough new clients to pay next month’s bills.” She chuckled.
He tried to smile as that day became clearer—what they fought about and why. It all felt moot now. “Next time, I’ll ask before I advertise. And I’m not a celebrity.”
“You’re a best-selling author. I’d say that’s celebrity status.” She cocked her head. “By the way, what was all that about you putting me in your book?”
I did intend to put her in my book, didn’t I? Right alongside my despicable ex. But I can’t do that to Renee. As angry as she makes me sometimes, I can’t stop thinking about her. “Did I say that?” he asked.
She looked at him dubiously. “I’m pretty sure you intended to put me in your book in a not-so-good way, and I don’t appreciate that.”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. You won’t be in my book. And I apologize if I said such things. I don’t put the people I care about in my books.”
Her face brightened, and a hint of red graced her cheeks. “Okay.” She took his hand again and gave it a reassuring pat. “I’ll go get the doctor.”
He couldn’t protest, so he reluctantly gave in. The doctor soon came and examined him. Now that Rahim was conscious, the doctor was able to explain the various broken bones he sustained. It was a miracle that surgery wasn’t needed, for which Rahim was grateful. But he was not looking forward to having to stay put in his hospital bed for another week. At least the hospital stay would not be at his expense, according to what Renee had said about the police reports.
Finally, the doctor left, and Renee returned to Rahim’s bedside. He slowly moved up to a sitting position and grimaced as another sharp pain overtook him.
“Don’t try to move too much,” Renee said, concern filling her beautiful brown eyes.
“I’m fine.” Rahim grunted.
A small smile crept over her lips. “You know, all of your fans have been wishing you a speedy recovery too. It was kind of sweet.”
“My fans?”
“Your book fans on FotoGram.”
“Word sure does get out quickly, huh?”
She chewed her bottom lip. “Well, I might’ve said something…”
He blinked. As if he wasn’t slammed with fan messages already. “Why would you do that?”
“Because… I care about you and was worried sick.”
His heart thrummed, causing the EKG machine to let out erratic beeps. He took a deep breath. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words said to him. “Huh. Well, I guess I deserved that.”
“What?”
“Getting bombarded on social media. I now understand how overwhelmed and anxious you must’ve felt when I did the same thing to you.”
She laughed. “Yeah, but that’s okay. I’m grateful for the referrals.”
“All right, then. I hope they’ll stick with you. I wish you didn’t have to worry about me. You have a business to run, after all.”
She shook her head. “My business can wait. Your health and safety are my biggest concern. Everyone in the neighborhood has been talking about you too. And the accident has been all over the local news and social media. What you did was incredible and brave.” She retrieved a colorful cloth bag from the side table next to his bed. “I wanted to show my thanks properly.” She pulled out a covered dish and two bowls.
He watched her with interest and wondered what she’d cooked up this time. The cinnamon, nutmeg, and peach smell became stronger. He widened his eyes.
“Yesterday, I discovered a peach that I’d missed—and apparently the squirrels missed it too. So…” Renee uncovered the dish, revealing freshly made peach cobbler. Grinning, she cut him a thick slice. “I figured you might enjoy some of this.”
The aroma of the delectable dessert surged through his bones, blanketing his pain with bliss. “‘Enjoy’? Woman, you just healed me! And after I get out of here, how about we enjoy these peach desserts a bit more properly, like, say, on a picnic?”
<
br /> She raised her eyebrows. “A picnic? As in outside? As in a date?”
He nodded. “If it means spending more time with you, I’m ready for the adventure.”
About the Author
Follow Marie Long on social media:
Hers To Cherish
MEKA JAMES
Being loved is the sweetest gift
Blurb
My birthday had always passed without much fanfare. As an afterthought is how I’d lived most of my life. Until Her. Mistress reminds me I’m important. She reminds me that I matter. But tonight, She’ll do more. Tonight, She’ll show me that I’m hers to cherish.
Hers to Cherish
I checked my appearance one last time in the ornate full-length mirror. The ruby red wrap dress hugged every curve, and the deep plunge of the neckline showed off my ample bust. The jewel color was my Mistress’s favorite so it was no surprise the outfit she’d gifted to me would be in this tone. Not to mention, Mistress gave the most compliments when I wore red. The perfect accompaniment to my rich, deep-brown skin she’d say.
Butterflies spun like a whirlwind in my stomach when I heard the familiar tap, tap, tap of Mistress’s heels on the hardwood floors. A quick, final glance to make sure every curl was in place and my makeup was perfection before I made my way to the black velvet bench at the foot of the bed. I sat, back straight, legs crossed, hands folded atop my knees, eyes down, and waited. The tapping stopped, and from beneath my lashes, I could see the shadow underneath the door.
Excitement and anticipation raced through my veins. Four months we’d been together, and never had I been more content with life. Four months, and tonight Mistress promised me something special. I tried not to squirm as I recalled the paddling I’d received for failing to be upfront about my “special” day. Mistress believed in being open and honest, but it wasn’t like I’d been trying to hide information, I’d simply not thought my birthday important. It hadn’t been for many years or in any of my previous relationships. I’d been punished not because I’d failed to tell Mistress, but because I’d failed to remember I mattered.
The door opened and I smiled while working hard to remain still and not give into the overwhelming giddiness that threatened to consume me.
“Happy birthday, my Precious.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
The clicking of her heels was swallowed as she stepped onto the white fluffy area rug. Her pointy black stilettos stood out in stark contrast and the sight of them alone was enough to make me want to whimper. As much as she loved seeing me in red, black was her color of choice. I wanted nothing more than to drop to my knees and run my hands up the sheer silk that covered her legs. Mistress was never without her stockings, and removing them was always the highlight of my night.
“Eyes, Vanessa.”
As I lifted my gaze, I did so slowly in appreciation of the beauty before me. The black dress she wore was simple, but perfection. A fitted pencil skirt bottom that hugged the soft curves of her hips. The cut accentuated her waistline with a thin polka dot patent leather belt, and the high neck collar scooped just enough to show off her collarbone and nothing more. Never before would I have thought collarbones to be sexy. But on her, it was seductive.
Her makeup, impeccable. A simple smoky eye in tones of black and gray with her signature red lips. Not a single flaw or blemish dared mar her stunning chestnut complexion. Her hair, near midnight in color—with sprinkling of gray around the edge—was pulled back in a tight, high ponytail that always seemed to have that perfect swoop at the end.
How did I get so lucky?
My eyes met hers. Warm, yet intense. A brown so dark they were almost black.
“Did you prepare yourself to my instructions?”
I clenched my ass around the plug. It’d been left along with the dress and other items. “Yes, Mistress.”
A small smile spread across her full lips and my heart spiked. She stepped forward and reached for my throat. No pressure, just a hold as she stroked my flesh with her thumb.
“You look beautiful as always, Precious.”
I lowered my eyes at her compliment and she made a tsking sound.
“Apologies, Mistress.”
She lifted my chin, then ever so slowly leaned down to press her lips against mine. “Special treat for you. Tonight, while at dinner, you may call me Candace.”
From the look on her face, I knew the shock and excitement of that privilege showed on mine. Our time together had been one of training, and when I was here we remained in strict roles. Her, my Domme, and me, her willing and wanting submissive. I appreciated the control, the firmness, the order of it all—craved it in a way I hadn’t fully understood before her.
“Thank you, Mistress.”
She stepped back and extended a hand toward me. Her slender fingers, tipped with bright garnet nails, uncurled in the most deliberate way. I slid my palm into hers and stood. I balanced, uncertain on the five-and-a-half-inch Louboutins. Heels weren’t my normal choice, but I wore them without complaint. She’d been thoughtful enough to gift them to me and I would cherish them always. Even if they pinched a little and I worried I’d twist an ankle with each step.
Mistress tipped her head back and smiled. “You are a sight to behold, Precious. Shall we go?”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned and led me from the room. The silky fabric of my dress caressed the bare flesh of my ass. No panties. None were included with the rest of the items and I knew it was not an oversight on her part. Being without them gave me a secret thrill. A scandalous anticipation that at any moment Mistress could touch me throughout our fancy dinner.
Just the thought of it, coupled with the subtle movement of the plug as I walked, added to my arousal. I wanted to beg her to stay in. To have her take me into her playroom and tease me until I had tears in my eyes while she denied my orgasm. I couldn’t stop the whimper that caused Mistress to glance over at me.
“Everything alright, Precious?”
I swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Mistress. Simply excited about tonight.”
She smirked and arched a brow. “It would seem.”
Bex, our driver, stood as we approached. She was dressed in her signature black suit, crisp white shirt, and black tie. Even her dime-sized gauges were a deep onyx to keep in uniform. Her short black hair was cut close on the sides with more length on top, which showed off her soft curls. The woman was even shorter than Mistress, but I would never want to be on her bad side. I’d never forget the sight of her putting down a man who had to be at least three times her size because he dared disrespect Mistress. To accompany his broken nose, I was sure he had a dislocated shoulder and fractured, if not broken, wrist.
No one touched Mistress without explicit permission.
“Good evening, Lady C. And happy birthday, Vanessa.” She bent to retrieve the small white box that remained on the bench. “I hope you like it.”
I smiled full and bright at the woman who’d become my friend over the last few months. “Thank you, Bex.” I made a mental note to ask Mistress when Bex’s birthday was and hoped I’d not missed it.
I turned to Mistress, who gave a slight nod of permission, and I lifted the lid. “Oh my god, Bex!” I threw my arms around the woman. “How did you manage these?”
When I stepped back and realized what I’d done, my excitement washed away in a flood of worry. “Sorry, Mistress. My apologies, Bex.” My actions could have gotten us both in trouble. But me more so.
Our strict roles during my training meant I was not to touch or be touched by anyone else. Not even my friend.
“For tonight, Precious, I can be a little more forgiving of the rules. Besides, your excitement is warranted. Bex moved heaven and earth to get you those tickets. She said the concert was all you have talked about on your drives over.”
My body heated from embarrassment. Initially, my random chatter was due to nerves and Bex was kind enough to humor me without once complaining. But, eventually, we g
enuinely began to share conversations about our interests and had gotten to know each other.
“You two will have a great time. I’m sure of it.”
“You’re not attending with me?”
She shook her head. “No. I think it’ll be fun for you two to enjoy the show. Not exactly my type of music.”
Bex gave me another slight smile as she opened the front door for us, then she jogged forward after locking up to open the car door of the sleek silver Mercedes. Soft jazz was the only sound that filled the car as we rode. With my fingers clasped together in my lap, I worked not to fidget as my nerves crept up. I thought back to Mistress’s instructions: “Be calm, be sure.”
She placed a hand on my exposed knee, softly at first, but ever so slowly she pressed her nails into my skin. Scraping them up my thigh, pushing the hem of my dress up as she went. My breath hitched and, of their own accord, my legs parted.
She raked her nails back toward my knee and up again. I swallowed. I loved when she teased, and it seemed my night would be full of such pleasures. My hardened nipples scratched against the fabric of my dress as I took slow, deep breaths. The bra she’d left was an exquisite mix of leather and lace with triangle cut-outs that left my nipples exposed. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip.
“Eager are we, Precious?”
My body temperature rose, and with no barrier, my arousal slickened my thighs. “Yes, Mistress.”
She made another lazy path up my thigh. “I do hope you enjoy your night.”
I dipped my head and pressed my lips together. “I already am. Just the fact you cared enough to want to treat me has made this an amazing birthday.”
