“We need to talk.” I take his hand and pull him to the sofa.
He cuts his eyes toward me and watches me from the corners of them. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing, babe! But there’s something I think you need to know.” I spend the next thirty minutes telling him all the things Hayden said. I watch his face go from sadness to alarm to confusion.
“What do we do?”
I shake my head. “Nothing we can do. They have to figure this out for themselves.”
Martin grins at me and presses me down onto the sofa, climbing on top of me and kissing my neck and ear. I giggle. Then I call out, “Wait! Wait! How did it go with Jasmine?”
He sits up and sighs. “Oh my god, the woman is a crazy fuck.”
“As in crazy good?” I’m sitting now, staring at him.
“As in crazy great. I felt like I was with a call girl. I don’t think there’s anything the woman wouldn’t do. First thing she asked was if I wanted to tie her up and spank her. If that wasn’t enough to turn me on, you should see the toy chest they have. My god, they’ve got two or three of everything. Cock pumps, biggest dildos I’ve ever seen, some crazy-looking butt plugs, every kind of nipple clamp known to man. It looked like a hardware store up in there. Nuts, just nuts. And lubes and lotions and creams. I tell ya, baby, it was like Christmas.” He’s getting all excited just talking about it all. “They’ve got a fucking playroom with a sex swing. A sex swing! It was wild, just wild!”
I try to pull my eyebrows down from my hairline. “So you had a good time?”
“Well, hell yeah! It was incredible. And she’s a damn good fuck.” I guess he sees the look of alarm on my face because he adds, “But not as good as you.”
“You don’t have to lie on my behalf. If she’s better, she’s better.” I toy with the hem of my t-shirt.
“No. She wasn’t better, Savannah, I promise.” He kisses me. “I love you, baby.”
I kiss him back. “I love you too. Want some of me before lunch?” I glance down at my crotch.
“You’ve always got what I’m looking for.” He pushes me back down on the sofa and our brunch begins.
6
Gloria
Maybe I hadn’t been paying enough attention. I got up early just to watch and, sure enough, there was a man leaving the McIntosh’s house. Then a little while later, Mr. McIntosh came in. I have no idea what that’s about.
I tell Russell what I’ve seen. “So what do you make of it, dear?”
Russell shakes his head. “I think it’s none of our business, so leave them alone.”
“I’m not bothering them!” He’s obviously not paying attention. “I just think it’s very, very strange. I don’t think the neighbors would like it―at all.”
“Well, we’ll never know because none of them want to talk to you,” he snorts.
“That’s not true! We’re just not close, that’s all. I’m trying to remedy that, get to know some of them, you know.”
“Trying to dig into their business, you mean.”
Now I’m insulted. “What do you mean, Russell Livingston? I’m just trying to look out for the good of the neighborhood!”
“The neighborhood would benefit from a little less of your snooping. Leave all of the neighbors alone,” he tells me as he stirs sugar into his coffee.
I’m not bothering them. But I do want to know what’s going on over at the McIntoshs’. If I could just catch them together sometime―now that would be interesting!
I see her and I dart out the door. She’s always running in and out, but I’m going to catch her. “Mrs. McIntosh! Mrs. McIntosh!” When she turns and sees me, if I didn’t know better, I’d think she didn’t really want to talk to me. When I finally make it to her, she looks kind of scared. I look around to see if there’s a snake or a rapist or something somewhere, but I don’t see anything. She’s staring at me like I’ve got something stuck to my forehead when I say, “Hey, Mrs. McIntosh! How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. Can I help you with something, Mrs. Livingston?”
“That’s Gloria, dear.” I wait, but she doesn’t tell me to call her by her first name. “I just hadn’t ever really gotten a chance to talk to you and I wanted to say hello. Your home is beautiful. I remember when it was built.”
She smiles at me then. “Oh, really? Yes, we love it. It’s very comfortable.” She looks like she’s relaxing a little bit from whatever was bothering her.
“That’s good, dear. Say, thought any more about letting us come to one of those card games?” Card games my … patooty.
“I’m sorry! I forgot to ask everyone else. I’ll try to remember next time.” As she’s talking to me, she’s looking at the house. Does she think someone’s in there? I thought they both were gone to work all day. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was trying to get away from me.
I have to ask―“Is something wrong, dear?”
“Uh, no. I’m just thinking about how I need to start dinner. Could we talk another time?” She’s already edging toward the house. She is trying to get rid of me!
“Oh, sure! I’ll just watch for you and try to catch you again. Good talking to you!” She turns and almost runs. That means she’s hiding something. I try to keep from smiling all over my face until I can get inside, but it’s hard. By the time I get to the door, I know I have a goofy grin on my face.
“Russell! Russell, where are you?” I don’t hear anything. “Russell?” The bathroom door is closed, “Russell, are you in there?”
I hear him grumble. It sounded like he said, “Can’t a guy crap in peace?” Then the toilet flushes. When the door pops open, he growls at me, “Gloria, what the hell do you want?”
That really hurts my feelings. “I just wanted to talk to you. I caught Mrs. McIntosh outside today.”
“Oh, god, Gloria, what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Why would he ask me that? “I just talked to her, asked her about the card game and if we could come. And guess what?”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “She did not say we could come. I can’t believe that.”
“No, no, she didn’t. But she was trying to get away from me as fast as she could. They’re hiding something, I just know it!” I’m sure of it now, dead sure.
“Gloria, I’m warning you. Leave them alone, hear me?”
Now I’m just getting plain old mad. “I’m not bothering them. I just want to know what they’re hiding, that’s all.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves me off like I don’t matter. “Just remember―I told you to leave them alone.”
I decided I’ll start dinner just like Mrs. McIntosh. The clock says it’s five oh seven. That means I can take a little trip to Margaritaville while I’m cooking.
7
Savannah
“Would you please set the alarm clock for me?”
I lean toward the night stand. “What time, babe?”
“Three o’clock.”
I look at him like he’s lost his mind. “Three o’clock in the morning?”
He grins. “Yeah. Rowan and Hayden are coming over to help me.”
“Help you what?”
“Install a wildlife camera.” I start to understand what he’s thinking. “We’re going to see if we can catch her this Friday night.”
“So where are you going to mount it?”
He shrugs. “Where do you think she’s snooping?”
“Um, I’m pretty sure it would be a living room or dining room window. She thinks we’re playing cards. Unless she’s waiting until we all split off. Then I would guess a bedroom window, and there’s only one bedroom on the first floor.” I think for a minute. “She said she remembers when this house was built, so she may very well know the floor plan.”
“That’s good to know.” He stops for a minute. “So what about that big tree at the corner of the lot? We can put it up high and point it at the corner of the house. It’ll catch anyone at the front or side. If
we see movement on the other side, we can just move it.”
“Sounds like a plan!” I grin. “But what are we going to do if we catch her?”
He grins back and winks. “That, my dear, will be the fun part if we can figure out what to do.”
Rowan and Hayden came over at three that morning and mounted the camera. We went out to get ice cream that evening at about ten so we could see how well it worked. It has infrared, so it worked great.
But it’s the fourth Friday night of the month and time to have some fun. Everyone starts piling in. Tristan and Jasmine bring in some really yummy cheese dip. I’ll have to remember to ask her about it.
We draw keys. This time I get Tate. Layla gets Tristan. Jasmine is with Hayden. Marissa draws Jeremy. Maura gets Ainsley. Makayla gets Rowan. Angel gets Harrison. And Martin gets Stella. I’m more than happy with Tate. He’s one of the younger guys in the group and he’s got a lot more energy than most of the others. And somehow I’ve never picked Ainsley. I don’t know how that’s happened; everybody but him. He told me not too long ago that he was starting to get a complex. I told him if it was bothering him that much, he should tip me off the next time about which keys are his. He never has, so I guess he’s just waiting for the luck of the draw. Or he doesn’t want to be with me. Now I’m the one getting the complex.
Before we split up, Martin tells everyone what’s going on with that damn neighbor woman. A couple of them look concerned; well, the women anyway; the guys seem to think it’s hysterical. Before he finishes, he asks them to be thinking of something we could do if we catch her. Then everyone starts going their separate ways.
Once they’re all gone, Tate asks, “Got any special requests?”
“Nope.” I take another sip of wine. “Whatever happens, happens, as far as I’m concerned. What about you? Got any special requests of your own?”
“Just a blow job. You’re pretty damn good, as I recall.”
“That’s doable. And thanks―I try hard.” I give him a smile. Tate is ridiculously good-looking, almost pretty. He’s barely thirty, rock-hard abs, sexy smile, and incredibly straight, white teeth. It took me awhile to figure out that he and Ainsley were college buddies. It didn’t take any of us long to figure out that they’d been swapping out their two girls for years. Makayla and Marissa hadn’t seemed to be too crazy about each other when they all began to join us, and we found out why: The guys had never let the two of them meet. They went to a hotel, one earlier and one later, with the guys switching rooms later. Then, when it was time to go, one would leave and call the other to report their departure, and the second couple would leave. The first night that Ainsley and Marissa joined us was the first time Marissa and Makayla had seen each other. It was kind of creepy the way they did that, and when we asked them about it, they said they didn’t want each being jealous of the other.
Whatever works, I suppose.
We shoot the breeze for a little while. He talks about work. I talk about work. He asks where we’re going on vacation this year. I ask if Makayla’s about finished with school―she went back to get a nursing degree. After about fifteen minutes, he says, “Well, ready to get to it?”
“Sure!” I take his hand and lead him up the stairs. Once we’re in the bedroom, he pulls my tee off over my head, then unbuttons and unzips my jeans and tugs them down. I’m in nothing but my bra and panties.
“God, I wish you’d give Makayla some pointers.”
“On what?”
“Underwear.” He shakes his head as I hold my arms out and pivot in front of him, my ivory and black lace bra and matching panties on full display. “You always look beautiful. She’s wearing cotton panties that look like hand-me-downs from her mom and bras that are beyond worn out. It’s so depressing, especially since she’s so beautiful. If she’d just try a little bit, just a little bit. It’s not like we don’t have money for nice things.” Tate’s an attorney, so he’s not kidding.
“Have you said anything to her about it?”
He shakes his head. “I’m afraid she’ll get mad or be hurt, and I don’t want that.”
I grin. “Then take her shopping. Tell her, ‘I want you to buy whatever you want. You’re a beautiful woman. You should have beautiful things.’ Really, Tate, you’re a smart guy―why should I have to tell you this stuff?”
He shrugs. “Because I don’t think like women do, I guess.” He stops. “Enough about my wife. I’m here to fuck you.” While he’s talking, he’s pulling off everything until he’s naked in front of me, and he’s one fine specimen. He takes his cock in his hand. “On your knees on the floor, or up on the bed?”
“Whatever you’d prefer.” Some men really like to see a woman on her knees.
“Knees then. And take it deep. I like that.” He waits while I position myself on the floor and reach forward for his cock. It’s not especially big, but he knows how to use it. I let him have his way, threading his hands into my hair and pulling me down over his hardness over and over while I hold my hands clasped behind me. He pulls me back far enough that I have to turn loose of his dick, and then he says “Stop!” as I reach for it with my mouth. “Stay right there.” He leaves and I hear him rummaging around in the closet. “Anything in here you wouldn’t want me to see?” he asks.
“Nope.”
“Good.” In less than a minute he comes back and he’s behind me. “Keep your hands behind you.” Before I can protest, he ties my hands together. “Perfect! Now, let’s start again.”
He returns to his place in front of me and winds his fingers through my tresses again. He’s just using me like a receptacle; there’s no action needed on my part. Twice I gag, but it’s because I wasn’t ready for the next stroke. It doesn’t take long for me to get into the rhythm. I feel him harden just slightly before he says, “Get ready, Savannah.” Four more strokes and my mouth is full of his cum. I’d noticed before―his is thinner than most, the taste weaker. I don’t know why that is, but it makes swallowing a lot easier. Once he’s all finished up, he unties my hands and helps me up, unhooks my bra and lets it drop down my arms and to the floor, then pulls my panties down until I can step out of them.
“Can you find a scarf?” I’m kind of surprised. “Or a bandana?”
“Sure.” I pull a bandana out of Martin’s drawer and hand it to him. “What are we doing?”
“Too many questions. Turn with your back to me.” Tate’s pretty tall, so tying the bandana over my eyes is no trouble at all. Once he’s done that, he ties my hands back together. If I’d known what he was doing, I would’ve let him use our cuffs and blindfold. But this is kind of exciting, not knowing what he’s up to.
He takes me by my upper arm and starts to lead me, and I can tell we’re leaving the bedroom. “Tate?”
“Yeah?”
“We can’t go into the front of the house.”
“And why not?”
“Because of the neighbor, remember?”
“Fuck her. Guess she’ll get a show, huh?”
I hope Martin isn’t pissed. He doesn’t want to antagonize her, but it is our house, after all. He’s very careful as he leads me down the stairs. I’m wondering where we’re going, but he’s already told me that I ask too many questions. When we get to what I think has to be the kitchen, he stops. “Stand right there.” I hear a door open―the garage?―and then he’s back. He leads me across another room, and then says, “Here we go.” He turns me around and then lifts me with his hands around my waist.
My butt plops down on something―the dining room table. I’m trying to figure out what he’s doing, but I can’t. He works on something behind me and then says, “Okay, Savannah, lie back.” With a hand under my head, he helps me lie back without banging my skull on the table. Once I’m down, I can feel something under me, and he pulls on it. I think it’s a rope attached to whatever he used to tie my hands. He scoots me forward until the tip of my tailbone is at the edge of the table, and then I feel him doing something that pulls at the rope. I�
�ve figured out that he just ran the rope through my binding and now he’s doing something at each leg of the table in front of me.
As soon as he’s finished, he takes my left ankle in his hands and pulls my leg up with my foot pressed against what must be his stomach. I feel something around my ankle and realize it’s more rope. “Leg up!” he barks, so I lift my leg up. “Higher!” I manage to get it up so that it’s straight out, and I can hear him at the end of the table at my head. I feel a tug and my leg rises higher, so high that I draw my other knee up to my chest. He’s tying my leg that way, and then comes to my right side and begins to work my right ankle.
When he’s done, I finally understand. The rope passed through the bindings on my wrist is tied on both sides of the end I’m facing, keeping me from sliding upward. My legs are up so high that my pelvis is flexed forward, and the bindings not only keep me from putting my legs down, but they also keep me from pulling them together too, plus they keep me from sliding downward. I’m stuck between heaven and hell and wondering exactly what he’s doing.
I’m at Tate’s mercy, and I wonder if Gloria is seeing all of this. Once he’s done, I hear the refrigerator door open and close, then it gets really, really quiet. A chair is being dragged across the floor, and his voice moans out, “Oh, yeah. Dessert. You look scrumptious.”
I almost shriek as the cold stuff hits me, and I realize he’s just squirted out whipped cream all over my crotch. Someone brought it with whatever food they brought, and he must’ve remembered it. His breath tickles the inside of my thighs as he leans forward and starts to eat the whipped cream off my body. When most of it is gone, there’s a chuckle. “Get ready, baby.” I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do to get ready when his tongue starts a slow, agonizing journey up through my slit to find my clit.
I let out a moan and strain against the ropes, but they hold tight. He gets right down to business, sucking and tugging and licking until I’m squirming. Then he settles into dragging the tip of the torturous appendage around and around my swollen, needy bud, and I really start to wiggle. After just a few minutes, his finger replaces his tongue, and he puts one hand up onto my belly. “You might want to beg. I can’t say it will help your situation, but it might. Up to you.”
Savannah and Martin at 219 Harper's Cove Page 4
