by Angela Blake
“Ompf!” She said as the pillow knocked the wind out of her. She pushed the pillow to one side and glared at Lisa who tried to look innocent.
“I didn’t say you can’t be happy as a single successful woman. I’m just saying you can be happy with a guy too. Besides, with your standards, it seems like you’d have better luck dating older men.”
Not that the thought hadn’t occurred to her. She was twenty-one after all. A Legal adult, and she was free to do as she wished, but most guys wouldn’t look at a woman who was still in university. They found them too juvenile much to her chagrin, so she just needed to find the right guy who would look past the stereotype and see her as she is.
“And what’s wrong with dating older men? They’re seasoned, mature, cultured, and they know exactly what do in bed.” She added that last part with a wink.
Lisa gazed at her in mock horror before she burst out laughing, “I guess you’re right. I mean I had to teach Patrick a lot of things when we first starting going out.”
“Too much personal information, Lis.” Anya grimaced at the image of her best friend, and her best friend’s boyfriend going at it.
“You’re the one who brought it up,” She said defensively.
Anya rolled her eyes, “If I had known, I wouldn’t have.”
“In that case, maybe you should date my dad.” Lisa said teasingly, “I mean he’s always spouting romantic stuff especially after he reads Keats, and I’m sure he’s at least heard of Dostoevsky. “
“Oh, ha ha, very funny.” Anya glanced away uncomfortably wondering what made Lisa make that comment.
The truth was that Anya often thought about Lisa’s Dad. It was hard not to. Russel was in his late thirties with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. He and Lisa’s mum were parents when they were teens, so he was probably the youngest Dad she knew, and a lot of the times, it felt like she was talking to a cool adult not her best friend’s Dad.
And definitely not a guy she was crushing on.
They often chatted whenever she was at Lisa’s house if Lisa was busy, or if she was waiting for her. Their conversations got pretty heated, and they often jumped from one topic to the next in a way that made Anya’s insides tremble. He was always well dressed, and always smelled faintly of pine cones and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
Anya wasn’t sure if the crush was reciprocated because the second Lisa came in, Russel would immediately switch to Dad mode, but there were a lot of times when she’d catch him glancing at her for far too long, and she’d wonder.
She once caught him staring at her lips, and she licked her lips nervously just to see how he’d react. His eyes darkened a fraction, and then he abruptly tore his gaze away and quietly left the room. He had been careful not to stare again. Perhaps because he knew that it was wrong to want her in that way.
But she wanted him too.
Even when logic, reason and every single thing in her mind told her that she was crazy. That these were some latent daddy issues she needed to resolve. She didn’t care. All she knew was that she burned for him.
She wondered if he burned for her too. If the thought of her kept him up at night, sometimes filled to the brim with a desire that was both wrong and oh so right?
Lisa snapped her fingers in front of Anya’s face, “An, hello? Earth to An?”
Anya shook her head and gave Lisa a blank smile, “Sorry, I spaced out for a while there. What were you saying?”
Lisa rolled her eyes, “Thinking about older men again, were you?” She wagged her finger mockingly at Anya. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Throw me into a room full of hot older men and come back after two days?” Anya suggested sardonically.
“That can be arranged, you know. The older men part might be hard to arrange, but hot men, that I can definitely work with.”
“You’re not dragging me to another bar, are you?”
Lisa pouted. “Don’t spoil my fun, An. Where else are you supposed to meet a decent guy?”
“If he’s our age, at a bar, but as you so astutely pointed out earlier, guys our age just don’t cut it for me. They’re not guys. They are just overgrown boys. I want a man.”
Lisa leaned back against the couch and tossed Anya a glance over her shoulder. “And just where do you suggest we find this older guy you speak of?”
Anya frowned as she bit her bottom lip. She finally stopped chewing on it. “I have no idea.”
“Let’s just get back to work, we’ll talk more about this later, ok?”
Lisa twirled a strand of hair around her fingers as she idly picked up her psychology book from the floor. “You got it, by the way don’t forget that I’m taking you out for drinks tomorrow for your birthday. I’ve invited a few people along.”
Anya gave her a look. “Lis, you know I appreciate the effort, but I don’t do well with people I don’t know that well. You know I’m shy.”
Lisa waved away the complaint. “I know that, but don’t worry. They’re all people we know.”
By people they knew, Lisa really meant people she knew. Anya could probably count on one hand how many people she knew. She always had a hard time making friends because most people misinterpreted her shyness as arrogance, and thus acted accordingly. She tried to get over it a lot of times, but it took a while, and usually if she tried too hard the first time, she ended up overcompensating, and the conversation would be strained and awkward.
“Okay, I don’t have time to worry about a party right now, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, ok?” Anya said finally, as she turned her attention back to her book.
She could feel Lisa’s satisfied smirk gazing at her thinking that she had won which Anya supposed she had in a way, but it wasn’t over just yet.
Chapter 2
Anya hurriedly wrote down the last point as the professor rang the tiny bell on his desk to signal the end of the exam. She breathed a sigh of relief as she checked to make sure she wrote her name before she stood up, swung her bag over her shoulder and made her way down the bleachers.
She took a quick look at Lisa who was still writing the last point. She glanced up and gave Anya a tight smile before she glanced back down. She quickly picked up her papers and made her way down.
They both quietly handed in their papers before they demurely made their way out of the lecture hall.
“YES!” They both yelled at once as they threw their bags on the floor and embraced each other. They stood in front of the lecture hall hugging each other like two people who had been stranded at sea as people were forced to part to make their way past them.
“We’re blocking the exit, aren’t we?” Lisa mumbled.
“Yup.” Anya responded.
They released each other, picked up their bags and interlocked arms before walking down the hallway.
“It feels great to finally be done with college.” Lisa announced as she took a deep breath as if inhaling air for the first time.
“Urgh don’t remind me. I still have one more final tomorrow.”
“Oh, you’ll ace that, don’t worry so much, An. You know the material, and it’s not a written final. It’s a debate.”
“Exactly, you know I hate public speaking,” Anya pointed out as they made their way through the throng of students chattering excitedly, their conversation buzzing in Anya’s ears as if they were busy bees in a hive going about their day.
“Luckily for you, it’s a sexy topic,” Lisa swung her blonde hair over her shoulder as she fished around her purse for her keys. She finally found them a while later and shoved her hands in her blue jeans as she adjusted her flowing green top.
“Only you would refer to 50 shades of Grey as a sexy topic,” Anya said as they approached her car. The car beeped as they slid in. Anya adjusted her black top and wiped her hands on her knees, hating the fact that she sweated when she was nervous.
“It is a sexy topic. I mean BDSM not Christian Gr
ey.”
Anya clicked her seatbelt into place as she turned around and put on her sunglasses. “On that point at least we agree. Not about BDSM cause I’ve personally never tried it, so I can’t offer any insight on that, but in regards to Christian Grey, we are in complete agreement.”
Lisa shot her a disbelieving look as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway, “You’ve never tried BDSM? Seriously?”
Anya shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “Never been comfortable enough with a guy, I guess.”
Anya watched as Lisa pursed her lips, “But you want to?”
Anya sighed as she thought about it, “Well, I’ve always found the idea of being handcuffed to the bed quite…erotic, but I don’t know, I guess I’ll have to try it.”
Lisa grinned devilishly, “Maybe tonight you’ll get lucky.”
Anya groaned, “The party again? Seriously? Lis, even if I end up having a good time, I’m definitely not going to try handcuffing with a guy I just met. That requires a lot of trust and patience.”
Undeterred, Lisa continued, “We’ll just have to wait and see then.”
***
Anya gave herself a once over in the mirror thinking that Lisa had definitely gone overboard with the makeup, but before she could reach up and wipe it off, she heard Lisa’s voice from inside the bathroom, as if she somehow had eyes and ears everywhere, “Don’t you dare wipe that off. You look gorgeous! So stop.”
Anya sighed as she gazed at the black dress Lisa had brought her just for the occasion. It was a birthday gift that Anya felt was completely unnecessary, but it fit her perfectly.
She thought it made her ass look too big, but she was comfortable enough in her own skin to realize that she was never going to look the way society expected her to look, and that was okay too.
“I’m going to wait for you downstairs, Lis.” She called out as she grabbed her purse and gingerly made her way downstairs, hating the way the heels made her feel awkward and ungraceful.
She headed for the kitchen and rummaged around in the fridge for some juice. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and slowly sipped at it as she heard Lisa’s dad call out for her.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she smoothed down the front of her dress and called out, “She’s upstairs Mr. Grant.”
“Is that you, Anya?” He emerged a while later, and Anya’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of Lisa’s dad dressed in black jeans, a button-down blouse with his hair artfully slicked to one side. He looked much younger than he did in his business suit, and that woody smell she associated with him wafted towards her, and she had to clench the counter behind her back to keep from saying something stupid or, even worse, flirty.
“Hey, Mr.G,” she said weakly. Russel gave her a small smile and paused as he took in her dress. He gulped audibly, “Don’t you look nice today, Anya. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Mr. G.” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears, so she cleared her throat and pushed herself off the counter as she tried for an air of nonchalance to dispel the suddenly tense atmosphere, “So how’s the world of graphic designing?”
“Oh, you know how it is. Keeping us on our toes always.”
“I bet.”
Russel Grant frowned as he noticed the book sitting on the counter, “is my daughter reading 50 shades of Grey?”
“Oh, no. That’s me actually.”
Russel looked at her in surprise, “I didn’t think that was your kind of book.”
“It isn’t,” she flushed as she began fidgeting with her hair, “It’s for a literature course I’m taking. It’s requisite because of my literature minor. Contemporary literature.”
“They actually teach these things?”
“Well, actually,” she searched for her cup and took a huge gulp as she paused to gather her thoughts, “I picked the book because I wanted to debate something that was controversial and at times offensive, but people still made it a bestseller.”
Russel cocked his head to the side as he leaned back against the wall and crossed one leg over the other. “How is 50 Shades of Grey offensive?”
“Well, okay, I’m not going to discuss the BDSM aspect, that’s a personal preference in the bedroom.” She paused when she said this and glanced a peek at Russel who aside from a muscle ticking in his jaw gave nothing away, “I’m talking about Christian Grey’s attitude generally. I mean, I know he was abused as a kid, but that doesn’t give him the right to stalk Ana and generally try to control her life. He’s rich, successful and handsome, that’s why women think it’s okay. But if Christian Grey lived in a trailer park, he’d be labeled an obsessive psychopath.”
“You feel that’s what he tries to do? Control her I mean,” Russel clarified when he saw the look of confusion that crossed Anya’s face.
“Well, yeah, and even in the bedroom. I mean demanding that she become submissive to his every whim and call him Sir, that’s very archaic and sexist. That sets the whole feminist movement back.”
Russel gave her a wry smile. “Not that I’m not pro-feminism, but consider this. You just said that BDSM is a preference, so isn’t choosing to be a submissive a personal choice?”
Anya pursed her lips, “I guess so, but why would a woman make that kind of choice? Her body should be hers to do with as she pleases, not be laid down at the feet of a man who treats her as an inferior.”
Russel uncrossed his arms and moved towards her casually. “So you feel a man can’t dominate a woman without making her feel inferior?”
“Well, admittedly, I don’t have experience in that area, but I find it hard to believe, yes.”
Russel studied her quietly as he went to the cupboard to get a glass. His arm brushed hers, and their eyes met for a moment, an electric current passing between them that had them both inching in closer.
Russel cleared his throat as he took a sip of his water, “I think you’d feel differently if you actually experienced it.”
“Is that so?” Anya murmured as they stood next to each other, not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the body heat radiating off of the other person.
“Definitely,” he affirmed as he stood there, “Do you understand why some women enjoy BDSM? The concept behind it I mean.”
Anya thought about it for a second before she shook her head, “I’d like to say I do, but I honestly don’t. I guess it’s some sort of kinky fetish?”
Russel turned his head to look at her and gave her an impish grin, “Well, that’s an interesting way of putting it. I suppose in a way, you could say that, but actually there’s a science to it.”
“Science?” Anya questioned disbelievingly. She turned, so she was facing him, and they were both separated by a mere breath of air as they continued their discussion.
“Science,” he assured her as he gestured with his hands, “consider this, the nerves that send signals to your brain to let you know you are experiencing pleasure are not that different from the nerves that send signals to indicate pain.”
“Yes, they are,” she interrupted hotly, “How can you even compare the two? That’s like undermining pain which you have to admit is a very powerful feeling.”
He snapped his fingers, “Exactly! You just said it yourself, pain is a very powerful feeling, and so is pleasure. So imagine if you have two very powerful currents overlapping, wouldn’t they create a bigger, more electric charge?”
Anya cocked her head to the side, “Well, I guess if you think about it that way, but that’s assuming you can even out the energy discharge of both factors, and how would you be able to manage that?”
Russel gave her a wry smile, “That is where BDSM comes in. That’s why there are safe words, and limits, and that’s why you discuss everything ahead of time to make sure each person is comfortable. That’s also why it’s important for the dominant to know what they’re doing, when to apply just a little bit more and when to hold back.”
> Anya studied Russel carefully wondering just how he knew all of this. She gulped as the realization came to her, “You’re a dominant, aren’t you?”
Russel looked at her quietly, his face smooth and impassive, “That’s really my business, Anya. In any case, it’s not something I’d discuss with a twenty-one-year-old, particularly not my daughter’s best friend.”
Anya’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Why do you do that? I’m not a child. I’m a legal adult.”
Russel raised an eyebrow. “You think numbers make you an adult? They don’t. Experience makes you an adult.”
“I’ve got experience,” she responded tartly.
“Well, do you now?” Russel pushed himself away from the counter and strode towards the kitchen door and checked outside. He took Anya’s hand and pulled her into the office and locked the door behind her.
Chapter 3
Anya stood there pressed against the wall, her chest heaving as she struggled to take in air, her body was painfully aware of Russel’s body pressed up against hers.
“Why am I in here?” Anya queried, her voice sounding husky to her own ears. Russel’s eyes snapped open to meet hers, and she could see the conflict written in them.
“I don’t know, Anya, I don’t know.” He drew a ragged breath and placed his arms on either side of her, caging her in, “I just, being around you, it messes with my head, and I know it’s wrong because you’re so much younger than I am, and you’re my daughter’s best friend. I shouldn’t want you this way.”
Anya licked her lips and stared at him, “I shouldn’t want you that way either, but you’re the one who pulled me in here.”
Russel chuckled quietly, the movement causing vibrations to ripple throughout his body, “You’re right, I am. I just wanted one minute alone with you without worrying my daughter would barge in, and I’d have to go back to being Mr. G.”
He stared at her, his blue eyes piercing as they begged her to understand. Anya nodded as she pressed herself against him making him sigh deeply as he brought a hand up and brushed her hair out of her eyes.
