WINDY CITY: The complete series

by Stone, Measha

  Erin watched them with a silly grin glued to her face. Jonathan turned an expression of envy on Royce. Kelly looked completely jealous, and Alex didn’t even try to hide his snicker.

  Jessica stared into her empty glass. She wanted another but was afraid of what scene that might cause. Stomping her foot in frustration and darting away seemed like a good idea too.

  Royce placed his arm around her and pulled her to him, placing a kiss on top of her head. The wave of emotion calmed to a smooth ripple at his touch.

  “Jonathan, I understand you work for the city,” he said, turning the attention away from them while keeping his arm around her.

  Her irritation melted away as the group became immersed in their conversations.

  After a rather lengthy explanation to what Jonathan’s job at the clerk’s office entailed, Royce excused himself.

  Alex watched him stand and cursed. “That bastard stole my idea,” he said jokingly.

  Jessica turned in her seat to see Royce standing at the hostess station, paying the bill.

  “Let him have this one.” She patted Alex’s arm.

  “You really like him, huh?” His voice dropped, his eyes searching her expression.

  “Enough for now.” She shrugged and watched Royce make his way back to the table. She loved his walk, and how he appeared completely in control of the room, as though he owned every inch of it.

  “Okay, ready?” He pulled Jessica’s jacket free of the chair and offered it to her. She slid her arms in, and he adjusted her collar before grabbing his soda and downing the last sip.

  “Going already?” Kelly asked, her stare glued to Royce.

  “Jessica had a long day, and I’m a bit exhausted as well.” He winked to Jessica and waved to the group. Jessica did the same and allowed him to grasp her hand and lead her away from their friends.

  He had plans for them when they got back to his place, and she couldn’t tell if she was scared or excited.

  Chapter 5

  Royce wouldn’t answer any of Jessica’s questions in the cab on the way home. She only stopped pestering him when he gave her a warning glance.

  He unlocked the door to his apartment, and, as usual, moved aside to let her in first. She took a step in and tripped over a large box in the front hall, stubbing her bare toe. She dropped her shoes on the mat and hopped around holding her foot.

  Royce flipped on the lights to see the offending object. “You okay?” He was obviously trying not to laugh at the sight of her hopping on one foot.

  “Yeah. I kicked the box. I hope it wasn’t fragile.” She held her foot out and wiggled her toes, while he inspected the box.

  “The doorman must have dropped it off. Just some mail.” He picked it up and put it in the closet.

  “Did you order something?” she asked as she straightened her shoes on the mat the way he wanted them. Toes facing the wall, lined up neatly.

  He closed the closet door and watched her. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.

  She blushed.

  “Of course, you don’t. Something tells me you don’t have the slightest idea how amazing you are.”

  “I don’t do well with flattery.” She put her hands on her hips. “But I will take another kiss,” she teased.

  He pushed away from the wall and took her in his arms. His hands slid under her hair, his thumb caressing her jaw as he brought his lips to hers. She expected a passionate kiss, but he simply skimmed her lips with his own and pulled away. He grinned when she let out a low moan of dissatisfaction and frustration.

  “Come to the living room.” He moved a stool from the corner to the open space near the couch. “Take your clothes off,” he instructed and left the room before she could argue.

  Jessica stood staring at the stool for a moment, worried about what was about to happen. Other than a playful swat to her backside here and there, they hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary on their dates. What did he have planned? Maybe she should ask for more details before complying. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already been completely nude with him—his hands roaming her body.

  Dammit. She needed to get out of her own head. She’d made up her mind to go on this journey of exploration, and she would see it through. Blocking out the racing concerns, she stripped out of her clothing.

  When Royce returned, she stood behind the stool, arms crossed over her chest, and legs clenched.

  He shook his head as he brought a small cloth bag to the coffee table. “Let me see you.” He stood over her. Although she was at least a head shorter than him, she didn’t feel petite.

  She straightened up and dropped her arms to her sides, turning her gaze away from him. Standing in the middle of Michigan Avenue naked would have been more comfortable than having his stare fixated on her. The strangers on the Magnificent Mile would most likely ignore her. Royce gave the impression of a starved predator on the hunt.

  “Sit on the stool.” He gave short commands, but his voice held a comforting softness.

  Jessica slid onto the stool, keeping her hands folded in her lap and her feet on the lower bar of the stool. She watched him open the cloth bag and pour colored clothespins onto the table. She chewed the inside of her lip while watching him sort them into colored groups—green, blue, red, and white.

  “Doing laundry?” he attempted to joke.

  He grinned up at her from over his shoulder and continued with his work. Finally finished, he stood up and pulled a thick, black strip of fabric from the back pocket of his jeans.

  “No laundry, but remind me later to tell you about what a friend did with his submissive and some clothespins when she kept forgetting to do the wash.”

  He shifted the fabric from one hand to the other, and she shifted in her seat. “We are going to play a memory game. I’m going to place these clothespins on your breasts. When I do, I’ll tell you which color I’m using. Your job is to remember what color is where. Then I’ll ask you to tell me what color a particular pin is. If you remember right, pleasure will be yours. If you get it wrong, I’ll remove the pin in any manner I choose.” A sadistic grin twisted his lips.

  “It’s going to hurt,” she stated the obvious.

  “Yes, but only a little. My intention isn’t to injure you. It’s to play.” He ran his knuckles down the length of her nose.

  The intimacy of the touch soothed her anxiety.

  “You’ll see. The good and bad mix together, until you aren’t really sure where one stops and the other begins, and then it all just feels good.” His smile was reassuring.

  “Okay.” She nodded and closed her eyes. He tied the fabric tightly behind her head, careful of her hair. Her breathing became deep and controlled. Every sound in the apartment amplified. The ticking of the clock on the wall echoed in the room.

  “This one is blue.” He placed a soft kiss on the inside of her right breast and pinched the skin before placing the clothespin.

  She sucked in a breath at its sudden grip.

  “Good girl,” he whispered in her ear and reached for another pin. “This one is white.” He kissed the outside of her left breast, and again squeezed the skin and placed the pin.

  She took a deep, calming breath.

  “Not so bad, right?” He ran his hand over her hair.

  “No, I guess not,” she answered. In truth, she’d expected her breasts to be in a fit of pain. It was surprising how gentle he was being and how, although the pressure of the pins was uncomfortable, she wasn’t in any serious pain. His words acted as a safety blanket, every encouraging word giving her the will to go on.

  He continued to apply several more pins to her breasts. Each time kissing the spot before applying it. By the time he finished, an array of colors spread over both breasts.

  “I should take a picture of you like this. You have no idea how hot this looks.” He spoke into her ear, a slow, deep voice that made her squirm in her seat. The game, his voice, and th
e sensations all mingled together, making her cunt slick with desire. “Spread your legs.” He dipped his fingers between her thighs.

  She complied and was rewarded with his fingers stroking her. She couldn’t stop the moan from escaping as he continued to slowly pet her.

  “You’re so wet already.” He kissed her ear. “But we still have to take these off.” She could almost hear the evil grin in his voice.

  “There are so many.” She groaned.

  “No more than you can handle,” he assured her. The squeezing of the pins intensified as he handled her breasts, lifting them up.

  She felt him watching her as he let go, and the bounce of her breasts made the pins jiggle and create more pressure on each one. She grimaced at the new sensation rushing through her. His hands played with one of the pegs, and she tried to remember the color.

  “What color is this one, Jessica?” he asked as he flicked it.

  “Blue!” she called out as the memory struck her.

  “Are you sure?” he teased, rolling the end of the pin around in a circular motion.

  “Yes.” She grinned confidently. “It was the first one you put on.”

  “Good girl,” he cooed and pushed the ends of the pin together, releasing it from her skin, then quickly placed his lips over the pinched area.

  She noticed only a moment of discomfort before his warm kiss took it away.

  “How about his one?” He played with another on the inside of her right breast.

  She tapped her right foot while thinking. It was difficult to do with him playing with the clothespin, and he was now also stroking her thigh with his fingertips.

  “You’re trying to distract me,” she accused. A sharp slap to her thigh was his response.

  “Maybe so. Or maybe I enjoy touching you. Now, what color?” He flicked the peg harder.

  “White,” she answered with much less confidence.

  “Such a lucky guess.” His words were disappointment mingled with amusement as he removed the clip. He kissed her breast, this time running his hand up her thigh and through her legs, touching her wetness. “Three more.” He kissed her neck.

  Goosebumps covered her arms, and a tingle shot up her neck after his kiss. She tapped her fingers on her thighs as he played with a clip close to her left nipple. She was confident this one was blue…or was it green? No, it had to be blue she thought to herself.

  “Two seconds…”

  “Blue!” she yelled out. The competitor in her came out to play. Losing didn’t suit her, and she wanted to win.

  He yanked on the pin, and it pulled free of her skin. She cried out from the sting and waited for a kiss to follow.

  “Nope. It was green.” He tossed the clip onto the table.

  “That really stung.” With no kiss coming, she reached for her breasts to soothe the sting, but a sharp swat to her thighs stopped her.

  “Hands down.” A cool command slipped from his lips.

  She readjusted herself on the stool. The sharp sensation rushed to her brain. The pain of the clip being removed combined with his pleasure at her ability to play the game brought her arousal to new heights. Losing suddenly held almost as much benefit as winning.

  He tweaked her nipple lightly. “This one?”

  “White,” she announced, arching her back to give him better access. She wanted her kisses.

  “No, blue!” He didn’t even try to hide his amusement.

  She readied herself for the burn, but it wasn’t enough preparation.

  He flicked his finger at the clothespin, it let go of her skin, and it clamored to the floor. The searing, sharp sting from the abandoned pin left her momentarily breathless. She fisted her hands on her thighs, fighting the desire to rub the sting away.

  “You are quite alluring when you scrunch your face up like that,” he commented as she took small breaths to calm herself. “One more…” He kissed her cheek and stood behind her then pulled her back against him and ran his hands over her naked chest. “What color do you think it is?”

  “Green…no, blue…no, no wait, let me think.” Her chest was rising and falling faster as she overthought. Did he use any red ones? She tried to remember as he skated his hand up her thigh again and stopped right where she wanted his touch the most.

  “If you get it wrong, I’m going to use my crop to get it off.” He rested his chin on her shoulder, continuing to play with her legs and breasts.

  She squirmed in her seat and made a noise sounding very much like a cat’s growl.

  “Okay. Time’s up…what color?”

  “Red?” she said, hopefully.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. No. It’s white. Remember, I held off on the red because they gripped too tightly.”

  She cursed. That was exactly what he’d told her.

  “That’s okay. I was hoping to use my crop anyway. It’s a win-win.”

  “For who?” she pouted.

  “Both of us. You’re doing a great job.” He kissed her neck again before leaving her to get the riding crop. She liked this side of him, the playful Royce. Although, she hadn’t yet found a side of him she didn’t like.

  “I’m not sure I can handle a crop.” She pumped her fisted hands. Emotions ran through her in bundles, all tangled together.

  “You’ll do fine. You remember the word I gave you to say if you need me to stop?”

  “Yes.” She nodded and relaxed her fists.

  “Good. Now grip the stool with your hands and arch your back so your chest is pushed out… That’s it. Good girl.” He brushed her breasts with the crop, allowing the leather to caress her.

  He applied small slaps, spreading them evenly. She made a small noise as he intensified the impact. Her breasts bounced, and the lone clothespin jostled, twisting her sensitive skin.

  The leather flicked at her nipples, and she arched her back more. The pinching from the pin, the sharp slaps of the leather, and the caresses between all melded together. Her breath quickened; not from fear, but excitement. A particularly hard slap landed on her nipple, and she cried out, but didn’t try to avoid his lashes. She tilted her head back and let him continue his game, enjoying the warmth covering her skin from the spanking.

  The clothespin became his primary target, and he flicked it with the crop. “Ready?” Before she could form an answer, he slapped the pin from her skin.

  She let out a yelp but focused on her breathing. A smile tugged at her lips. She’d made it through.

  The clunk of the crop landing on the table echoed in the other otherwise silent room.

  Royce wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck and cheeks. He stroked her body, the softness of his fingers easing some of the tension from her muscles.

  Hungry for him, she kissed back as though in a fever. He dragged his lips away from her mid kiss.

  “I want to describe your breasts to you.” He released her and stepped back.

  Her hands remained gripping the stool. Her cheeks flushed. Although the blindfold kept her in the dark, his stare poured heat over her skin.

  “The clothespins left small red marks behind. The riding crop left your breasts a rosy pink. They’re blushing for me, almost as much as your face.” His voice was light.

  Wanting to see him, she moved her hands toward her eyes.

  “Don’t remove the blindfold. I’ll remove it when I’m ready.”

  She dropped her hands into her lap, weaving her fingers together to keep herself still.

  “Why are you blushing? Are you embarrassed about what we did?” He touched her again, caressing her thighs.

  “No,” she answered honestly.

  “Did you hate it?” His voice held a hesitation she hadn’t noticed before. Normally, everything he said was with confidence.

  “No.” She shook her head. Hate it? If her thighs became any wetter from her arousal, she’d slip off the stool.

  “Did you enjoy it?” he continued.

  Her blush deepened. She would never understand his need to analyze everyt
hing. “Yes,” she breathed.

  He spread her legs and dipped his finger into her. She was hot and ready for the invasion. She leaned forward and gripped his shoulders to steady herself as he moved his finger into her.

  “Mmm, yes, I think you did enjoy yourself.” He kissed her cheek again. With his free hand, he pulled the fabric from her eyes. She blinked a few times to adjust to the light, and then locked her gaze with his and licked her lips. His own excitement was evident and rubbing against her leg.

  “Is there something you’d like?” He grinned, his dimpled appearing. She resisted the urge to kiss it.

  “Yes.” She nodded and took a deep breath as he moved his assault to her clit. She spread her legs wider and arched her back, moving closer to his touch.

  “What is it?” he prodded, removing his finger from her. She groaned and looked down at his groin. “Just ask,” he taunted.

  “I don’t want to say it. Can’t I just do it?” She avoided his eyes, not sharing his obsession with verbalizing every thought.

  “That’s not how this works.” He brought his lips to her ear and nibbled her earlobe. He’d learned quickly her earlobe was a hot button for her. “How can I give permission if I don’t know what it is that’s being requested?”

  She exhaled her frustration. “Never mind then.”

  Royce snaked his hand up her neck, grabbed her hair at the base, and wrapped it around his fist, pulling her gaze to his. She winced at the shock of the movement and the pain in her scalp.

  “Tell me what you want. You don’t change the subject because you don’t like the topic.” Even when they played, the controlled dominant wasn’t far away. The warning glared at her from his firm, dark eyes. “Do you understand? We’ve had enough conversations about this, you should know how to answer.”

  She couldn’t explain her turn of emotions. Her mind told her to be angry at his caveman actions, but her heart warmed. The latter wanted things to go back a few paces to when he was giving her pleasure—when his eyes shone with approval and desire.