Between The Lines

by Drew Sera

  I frowned and stared at the back of him as he sauntered around, stopping at a few tables away from us. I don’t know how she remembered him. I don’t even remember the people I’ve seen at all of the events. I try, but there’s only so much room in my head.

  “I have no idea, Sam. How the hell do you remember these things?”

  “First off, a man usually sticks out a bit at these events. Nine out of ten attendees are women. And second of all…he’s a really good-looking guy.”

  I shook my head at her but stared at the man. He was good looking.

  “Just like in San Diego, he didn’t want you to sign the book. Remember?”

  I remembered him.

  “Yeah, he bought Paris,” I recalled.

  “Yes!” Sam exclaimed.

  He just purchased Unexpected Love and carried it in his hands instead of putting it in his tote bag.

  “This is far from San Diego,” Samantha pointed out the obvious.

  “Maybe he just travels around to book events,” I said and shrugged.

  I finished off my Vanilla Coke and tossed a few wintergreen Tic Tacs in my mouth. Samantha grabbed my forearm and turned to me excitedly.

  “What if he works for a publisher?”

  I scowled. The writing world has changed so much that I didn’t need a publisher to do what I was doing. Times have changed.

  “Think about it, Aims. He’s now seen you at two book events and purchased two of your books! Maybe he didn’t want them signed because he’s taking them back to the publishing company.”

  “Relax, Sam. I’m not interested in a publishing contract. You know that.”

  But still…I was curious about the handsome man that has purchased books from me at book events on opposite sides of the country.

  Shortly after midnight Eastern Time, I made it back to my hotel room. Exhausted from talking and standing on my feet for over four hours, I flopped on the bed. My throat was sore, and my mouth was bone dry.

  “Ugh, why didn’t I grab the bottle of water before getting on the bed?” I bitched.

  Forcing myself to an upright position, I gathered my bearings and looked at the clock on the nightstand. I pushed myself off the bed and grabbed the water bottle. As I guzzled it, I quickly planned out tomorrow morning. I needed to be up and checked out by 8:00 a.m. to make it to the airport for the 10:30 flight home.

  Before crawling back on the bed, I sent J.P. a text so he wouldn’t worry.

  Amy: Hey, I just made it back to my room and am beyond exhausted. My throat is so sore from talking all night.

  Before I settled myself into bed, he sent me a reply text. Why did his texts make me feel all mushy? Was it love for sure? I knew that I was getting very attached to his attention.

  J.P.: Hi princess. I have something to coat that sore throat with.

  Oh. My eyes perked up as I pulled the sheet up.

  J.P.: But it’s for another time. Please get some rest and text me when you get checked out in the morning and to the airport. While you’re waiting for your plane, you can tell me all about your trip.

  Amy: I will text you in the morning. I’m going to sleep now.

  J.P.: XO princess.

  He’s so sweet. Yes, I loved him. My heart was fully invested in my romantic sadist…who was still somewhat of a mystery to me.

  “Aims, I don’t think he’d send you a ‘hugs and kisses’ text if he didn’t mean it,” Samantha said as we sat down at the bar on the concourse in the airport.

  I was confident with Samantha’s comment. Not only was it something that I wanted to hear, but I believed her. Samantha wasn’t the type that went around telling people what she thought they wanted to hear. She was brutally honest with me all the time, even if the truth hurt. And she knows how hesitant I’ve been with men since the “Chris experience.” Since him, I’ve been cautious about letting my heart get involved with any man.

  But J.P. has been so different. And maybe it’s because our relationship never started out as anything date-like or anything that either of us thought would lead to something more.

  I continued to seriously mull over the pros and cons to my romantic sadist. I worked from home and could relocate anywhere.

  J.P. worked…somewhere in the medical field. What on earth did he do exactly? He never seemed to have a solid schedule, so I don’t think he’s a doctor with his own practice. But, maybe he was a doctor in an emergency room and had different schedules. Or some sort of technician, or even a nurse. He’s always very strict about only being able to check his phone for calls, messages, and texts during his lunch or breaks. Any and all jobs in the medical field were possibilities. The only way I’d know for sure was to ask him.

  But I have asked him and it’s been a vague “medical field” answer.

  Doubt clouded my head as I thought back to the recent question I posed to him about the women with his “not mine yet” label. When I asked him about the women in those pictures, he said they didn’t matter.

  Would I matter?

  Did I matter?

  Did I really matter, or was I just his latest bit of entertainment?

  No, I’m different. Our relationship was based on friendship first.

  “Stop, Aims,” Samantha nudged my arm that rested on the bar top. She pulled a glass of ice water closer to me. “You need some water. Coffee is great, but I don’t think you’ve had enough water.” I smiled weakly and sipped the water. “A lack of water will make you start thinking crazy shit,” she smiled and looked me in the eye.

  Samantha knew that at times my own self-doubt sneaks up on me and sends me into a quiet downward spiral. Which is kind of where I was right now.

  “He’s not Chris. You have to stop being afraid to get involved with guys because of Chris. Yeah, you ended up with a broken heart, but that was many years ago. J.P. is making you happy. Why are you running from your chance at happiness?”

  I shrugged. On the surface, I didn’t know. Deep down, I knew it was because I didn’t want to get hurt again…like I did with Chris.

  But I knew the point that Samantha was trying to make. I needed to take a chance and see if it could work out. And I wanted to.

  “And like I said, any man who gets you to take it up the ass can’t be a bad guy.”

  I whipped my head up and glanced around to see if anyone heard. The bartender smiled but made no eye contact.

  “You girls talking about ass fucking again?” Ryan said as he leaned forward on the bar.

  “Yes, Ry. I was reminding Aims that J.P. can’t be that bad if he’s making her excited about taking toys up her ass. If I’m not mistaken, you should have some toys waiting for you when we get home. Try that glass one first.”

  I think my jaw was open as I sat there in shock.

  “Sam loves the glass ones, don’t you darling? She also loves my cock up there,” Ryan teased and earned a sharp look from Samantha.

  “Okay, I’m going to walk for a bit. I’ll meet you guys at the gate,” I said and gathered my purse and began walking slowly toward the gate.

  Amy: Just got to the gate. I still have an hour before boarding.

  Amy: Want to talk?

  J.P.: Always.

  He called me and I spent the next forty-five minutes talking to him about the book event yesterday and the party in the evening.

  Chapter 22

  April

  J.P.

  Dark Kiss has pulled me in like no other book of hers. Was it because I helped her with parts of it or was it because I saw pieces of us all over it? To stroke my ego, I’d say it was because I helped her. But my mind and heart said it’s the latter.

  Amy’s female character, Rebecca, is a woman who has been hiding a desire to experience bondage. Her marriage falls apart because after she finally tells her husband of her desire, he kicks her out and tells her that she has sick and impure urges. So now she’s alone and getting her feet wet by going to clubs and dungeons for the experience she desired so badly that it destroyed her marria
ge.

  I’ve read over half of the book, and aside from loving it, I’ve discovered something: Rebecca is Amy.

  I have thought that here and there as I’ve been reading it. After reading the part where the male character, Nick, is working to break down her walls, I’m pretty certain. I could hear Amy’s pain through Rebecca’s declarations. And honestly, it made my heart and stomach hurt.

  Hiding desires and curiosity sucked.

  She probably had the interest in bondage for a long time before she felt safe and secure enough to even mention it. I’m sure she doubted herself even as she told him. Then he took everything away from her. Fucking asshole.

  I set my tablet down for a moment; I couldn’t read anymore right now. I found myself thinking back to when my parents found out that I was into kinky shit. I had just graduated high school and was on my last summer vacation before college when they found out. It went over like a lead balloon and my relationship with my parents never recovered.

  I grabbed my phone and sent Amy a text.

  J.P.: Are you busy? I want to talk to you and want to know if I’d be interrupting you if I called.

  Amy: Uh-oh, this doesn’t sound good. I’m home and can talk.

  “Hi,” I said into the phone.

  “J.P., what’s wrong?” I could hear the worry and strain in her voice, and I didn’t want to stress her out or let her worry.

  “Relax princess, nothing is wrong.” I paused to pick up the tablet and stared at the cover of Dark Kiss. “So, I’ve been reading Dark Kiss…you’re Rebecca.”

  She was quiet for a moment, but then the tone of her voice picked up and was chipper.

  “I’m kind of in a lot of my characters—”

  I cut her off though. I saw through it.

  “No bullshit, Amy. You’re more than a little bit Rebecca. The interest in bondage is you. And that catastrophic loss of your marriage over voicing it. You hid it for years because it was ‘wrong.’ And when you trusted someone with it who you thought loved you, it blew up.”

  I stopped because I could hear her crying. And now I felt terrible for making her cry.

  “Oh, princess. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I wanted to punch a wall for making her cry. It was obviously a very touchy subject and one that she’s probably struggled with and fought against herself over it. “Amy,” I pleaded. She wasn’t saying anything, but she was still on the line with me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I was reading…and I knew it was you. I never want you to feel ashamed of what you like or something you want to try.” I swallowed the acid that was rising in my throat as I thought of her pussy ex. “I’m sorry for how your marriage ended. I’m not sorry that it ended, but I’m sorry for the cause of it. You’re better off, princess. You deserve to be able to breathe and be who you are, not what some closed-minded asshole thinks.”

  She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. I could tell she was calming down, which was making me feel better.

  “You’re right, J.P. I’m better off.”

  “You are. I know it doesn’t take that sting away. Not yet at least. But give me time, I will take that sting away…and replace it with a different sting,” I lightly teased.

  Her congested laughter filled my ears, and I smiled knowing that she was smiling.

  “Am I Nick?” I asked her.

  “Yes, I want you to be Nick.”

  Her character Nick was the answer to her fairytale. I cocked a smile. “Princess, I’m more than up to the challenge of being Nick. I can be more than Nick, in fact.”

  She sounded like she was crying again, but I had a feeling these were happy tears.

  “Do we ever find out what kind of car that Dom Nick drives?”

  Again, her laughter made me smile.

  “No, I didn’t put that in there. Should I have?”

  “Cars are always important, princess. I’ve got to know what Nick is rolling around in.”

  “He has a Challenger,” she teased.

  “Perfect,” I said softly.

  We ended our call with that, and I told her that I’d talk to her this evening and to keep her chin up. I’d check on her through the day and see how she was feeling. Not that I’d be able to completely tell in a text, but sometimes just knowing that someone is there is enough.

  Did I ever think in a million years that I’d be a fucking prince? Never. Maybe fucking a strapping, twenty-something prince, but never a prince myself.

  But I could take care of a princess for sure.

  Chapter 23

  April

  Amy

  J.P. told me that he was sending me a little something to try, which left me staring at a purple, glass anal bead stick. I had a silicone anal bead stick, and the “beads” on it were all smooth. The beads on the glass one from J.P. had raised nodules that were similar to the glass butt plug that I had. This looked…impossible. The beads on it were all one size and were the size of the largest one on my silicone set of beads.

  I sent J.P. a picture of the bead stick, confirming that I had received it.

  Amy: This looks ominous.

  J.P.: You’re going to love it like the naughty ass slut you are.

  My clit throbbed when I read that. I most definitely feel like I’ve turned into the “naughty ass slut” that J.P. referenced.

  J.P.: Put it in your dishwasher so it’ll be nice and clean for play time tonight.

  “Play time” is what we now call our evening phone calls. I look forward to them, though given how big and bad this bead stick looked, I wasn’t sure that I could handle taking it. But I would sure try.

  While my new play time toy was prepped in the dishwasher, I began working on my new book. And right around the time I was ready for a break, Sam called.

  “Hey, want to go to Vegas?” she asked.

  “Uh, yeah. I’m always up for Vegas,” I eagerly replied.

  “Lavish Books is holding a book signing event in two weeks. I’ll finalize it now if you’re sure.”

  “Yes, count me in.”

  Amy: I get to go to Vegas in two weeks for a book event!

  I sent the info to J.P. and excitedly went back to work on the new book. He was at work now, so I didn’t think I’d hear from him until tonight, but I got a text around late afternoon.

  J.P.: Lucky you, princess. Before I call tonight, I want you to take a relaxing bath. I want you to finger yourself in the tub but DO NOT COME. Be ready for my call at 9:00 p.m. with the new bead stick, lube, and two clothespins.

  Clothespins? Wonder what those are for.

  Amy: Yes, Sir.

  I went to a drawer in the laundry room to search out some clothespins. I couldn’t even recall the last time I used clothespins.

  “Ah, two clothespins,” I cheered and carried them to my bedroom.

  I set them on the nightstand with the new bead stick and the lube. I was all ready for tonight.

  “How was your day, Amy?” J.P. asked as I was settling myself on the bed.

  “Good, thanks. I made a lot of progress on my new book and my trip to Vegas is finalized.”

  “That’s great news. So, how did you land the Vegas book signing?”

  “Samantha said that an author had to pull out due to an emergency and a spot opened up. How was your day?”

  “It was great. I thought about you taking that bead stick. I was in the bathroom jacking off during my lunch break.”

  I laughed.

  “Seriously? That’s kind of hot, J.P.”

  “Seriously. It was a little out of my norm for me to jack off into a paper towel, but I couldn’t risk getting any on my clothes. Did you think about the bead stick today?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I laughed. “It’s really big, J.P.”

  “That’s the point, my dear. As each bead gets swallowed by your ass, your clit will swell, and that pussy will be soaked. Now, did you follow my instructions?”

  “Yes; I had a nice bath and fingered myself but didn’t come.”

  “Good
, princess. What about the clothespins?”

  “Yes, I have those here, too,” I said and glanced at the clothespins sitting innocently on the nightstand with the huge bead stick.

  “I’m going to come with you tonight, princess. I’m naked and slowly stroking. I want you naked, too.”

  “Okay, one sec,” I replied. I felt the heat spreading through my body.

  I removed all my clothes and lay naked on my sheets then picked up the phone again.

  “Naked now.”

  “Wonderful, are your nipples hard?”

  “Yes.”

  His gentle laugh was calming.

  “Take a clothespin and put it on one of your nipples,” he instructed.

  I stared wide-eyed at the clothespin. Oh, my God. I hoped it wouldn’t hurt. I picked it up and tested it on my finger. It didn’t seem too bad. I held my lower lip between my teeth as I applied the clothespin to my nipple.

  “Ow,” I said into the phone.

  “Ah, give it a moment, Amy.”

  “Mmm, okay.”

  “Now, add the other one, princess.”

  I took a deep breath and pinched my left nipple between the wood teeth of the clothespin.

  “Both on?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do they feel?” he asked.

  “Well, it’s not a piercing pain. A constant pinching feel is the best way to describe it.”

  “Wonderful. Let’s lube that ass, princess.” I did as he asked and then lubed the large bead stick generously. “You’re going to love this…maybe not right away, but you’re going to love it. Alright, push one of those beads in.”

  I nodded and began to push it in.

  “Oh,” escaped my mouth as I felt the raised nodules move past my muscle ring.

  “Feel it?”

  “Yeah. It’s…smooth, but bumpy.”

  He continued to talk to me and encouraged me to keep pushing in the beads until they were all inserted.