The Assignment

by Jade A. Waters

  His voice came in that same deep wave that had startled me earlier, and I arched closer to him with every word. As much as I attempted to pay attention to what happened around that table, the things he had to say captivated me.

  That was why, once someone brought up sexual kinks and everyone started to share thoughts and comments—Selby dodging the conversation as best she could—I wasn’t put off when Dean leaned to whisper to me.

  “Do you have any kinks, Maya? That you’re willing to share?”

  The air was charged. The sun had followed its route over the house, promising a spectacular sunset in the next few hours in the direction of the coastline. The noise around the table had grown loud, and no one there could have heard him except me.

  Had someone asked me this in a bar, I might have been standoffish. But for some reason, his words reached straight down into me and extracted my response.

  Dean radiated sex, and I wanted more than anything to give it to him.

  I adjusted myself in my seat to face him better, the urge to kiss him striking me the moment he twisted his lips back up in that boyish smile. It was the oddest contradiction to him—his face dark and rugged, his body so masculine and strong. I raised my eyes to his, lost in the color of his irises.

  Jesus.

  It wasn’t like me to give away all my secrets without ever having been on a date with a man. And it had been years since I’d acknowledged that thing way deep in me, that curiosity longing to break free—but Dean’s stare loosened my tongue and drew the words from me.

  “I have several,” I confessed.

  Alex shared a joke about playmates, sending everyone around us into hysterics. I, meanwhile, remembered the decade prior, when I’d done most of my experimentation with Charlie. Our time together had been sordid and painful, but I hadn’t forgotten the discoveries we’d made in regard to what turned me on. They were things that contradicted everything I thought I preferred.

  “Tell me about them.”

  The rest of Alex and Selby’s friends were far away from us, too preoccupied to notice the scintillating conversation we shared. Dean wouldn’t take his eyes off me.

  “You have to work for it, Dean,” I teased. There she was—sassy me. Holding strong.

  And yet part of me wanted to spill everything. Something about him promised not only sex, but the kind of adventures I ached to try.

  Desires I’d kept buried for years.

  Under his breath, Dean said, “I’ll share first.”

  “Perfect.”

  He floored me by putting his hand on my knee. He used the entire width of it, slipping his pinky and thumb around the sides of my leg. The pressure was hard enough that it didn’t tickle; it was a prodding knead that made me gasp. The tingles that stormed my body surprised me, as did the deluge of moisture between my thighs.

  The other guests became even more distant when Dean tilted his lips against my ear. His exhalation came in a hot, drawn-out gust as he clasped my thigh tighter, sending a quiver along my spine. “Sometimes, I’m into role play.”

  I peered at the others, none of them seeing our exchange.

  None of me caring anyway.

  “I’m sensing an extremely specific type of role play. Yes?”

  Dean gave me another squeeze in response, this time making me jump. “Your turn,” he said.

  He slid his hand a fraction of an inch, and in that simple move he sent electricity through me. I looked down at his fingers, imagining them all over me.

  Then pinning me down.

  “Role play, yes,” I murmured. Speaking had never been a challenge for me, but Dean’s hand fucked with my head.

  “What about bondage?” he asked.

  “Some.”

  “Tell me more about that.” He squeezed again, his voice coming out huskier, deeper. Sexier. “Did you like it?”

  “Yes.” Words slipped out of my mouth like liquid from a goddamn fountain. I didn’t know why I couldn’t stop myself from telling Dean what I did. Not me, the woman who’d given up bossy men when I’d left Charlie nine years earlier.

  But this felt different. It was alluring, exciting.

  Divine.

  “I’m intrigued.” Dean ran his hand higher on my thigh, and my breath caught. “I’d love to share stories sometime. Find out more about you.”

  I couldn’t deny the wet heat pooling in my sex.

  I whispered, “Me, too.”

  Dean loosened his grip, and both of us were silent at a table of noise and chatter. The blood crashed back through my body like I’d imagined the exchange. When I smiled up at Alex and Selby, she cast a concerned look my way, while Alex grinned in a manner I’d grown to recognize as encouragement.

  I’d need to have a chat with the both of them.

  For the remainder of the time we spent at the table, the buzz of enchantment didn’t leave me. Though Dean didn’t make any moves as bold as the one he initially had, the feeling he roused in me wouldn’t wash away. I didn’t know what was going on in his head, but I hoped to find out.

  I stood to get another beer, and he caught my hand, making my body tremble all over again.

  “May I join you?”

  “Sure,” I said, struggling to maintain an easy tone.

  Dean released me. I turned away, not wanting him to see how much he’d affected me while I tripped toward the ice box. My heart thumped in my chest, and when I stooped for the lid, he snuck around and opened it for me. I found a bottle and popped off the cap, bringing the drink to my lips as calmly as I could. He narrowed his eyes.

  Good God, he was hot.

  “I’d like to play with you,” he said.

  I choked on my beer. Dean waited, patient. That smile played on his lips and I wiped my mouth.

  He tugged his phone from his pocket and held it out, his fingers wrapped around the screen.

  “Are you saying you’d like my number?”

  “Yes, please. If you’re offering it.”

  There were many things I realized I’d offer him as he stared at me, handsome and oozing some sort of energy I didn’t recognize—but that I wanted more than anything before.

  I programmed my number into his phone. After I handed it back, Dean planted a kiss on my cheek.

  I didn’t move when he shifted his lips to my ear. He reached his hand around me and brushed it across my back so softly I almost didn’t feel it, just the burst of heat that spread over my skin.

  “I have to go, but meeting you was a true delight.”

  There was no embrace, no lingering for my response—none of that. He simply leaned away, his finger grazing my cheek before he headed back toward the table to say goodbye to our friends. He threw his last words over his shoulder.

  “I’ll text you tomorrow,” he said.

  And then he was gone.

  Who the fuck was this guy?

  Chapter Two

  A chill coursed through me after Dean left the party. I hadn’t moved from my station by the ice box, my beer frozen in hand and my brain spinning like a vicious wash cycle. It had been a while since I’d felt such a spark with someone, and it had been even longer since I’d explored the side of me that only Charlie had seen.

  “Earth to Maya.”

  Shaken, I gazed at Selby.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I lifted my beer to my lips, trying to knock myself back to level ground.

  “Nice chat with Dean?”

  I didn’t answer, but Selby knew me better than that.

  She looped her arm in mine and led me back to the table. Dusk had settled over the party, and I discovered Dean hadn’t been the first to leave. I’d somehow missed most everyone taking off while I’d gotten caught up in our exchange.

 
; Selby scooped up the leftover plates and I helped, enjoying the banter between Alex and his remaining friends. He’d become something of a brother to me in the four years he and Selby had dated, razzing me from the moment she’d introduced us and taking it back with a smile on his face. He’d seen me in my underwear, for Christ’s sake.

  This was part of why I was stunned not to have met his friend Dean. The thought raced through my head as we picked up silverware. Why did he know about me when Selby had never brought him up?

  “Hey Selby...why haven’t you told me about Dean?”

  She paused, twisting her face around in the way she did when she stewed over something she wasn’t adequately loosened up to share. Selby didn’t have secrets. She’d told me everything the entire time we’d known each other because I was open to everything she did and encouraged her to try new things, too. Alex had been one of these things—a man she wouldn’t have ordinarily dated because she’d met him at a bar and he had a number of tattoos.

  But I wasn’t anything like Selby. She knew it, Alex knew it, and sometimes, I made choices that we agreed were best left undiscussed. But what was up here? Why hadn’t I heard about Dean, this incredibly hot man who reached inside me and wrenched up every craving I thought I’d buried?

  Selby started piling up the paper plates again.

  “Hey, come on. He can’t be that bad.”

  “He’s not. He’s just...”

  Alex joined us, brushing his auburn hair out of his eyes. “Need help, babe?” He didn’t wait for a response, stacking the serving dishes and peeking at the two of us. “Did I miss something?”

  I straddled the bench and propped an elbow on the table to watch Selby. I hadn’t seen her this uncomfortable in a while. “Yeah. We were starting to discuss Dean, but Selby got quiet.”

  “Ahh, Dean.” Alex snickered. “We’ve been avoiding introducing you.”

  “Alex,” she snapped.

  “What? We have.” His expression grew serious. “I knew you two would get along great, but Selby said no. I’m not sure why—”

  “You know why.”

  “Whoa,” I said. I put a hand on her arm, and she didn’t move, her lips pursed. “I’m a grown woman. What’s the deal?”

  She gave up on the plates and sat down. Alex did the same. “I worry about your past. And your preferences...”

  “I’m fine,” I said, annoyed. “What’s up with him? He’s obviously not a serial killer if you’re friends with him. So, what? Is he abusive? Dangerous?”

  Dangerous. What kind of dangerous?

  The kind that played naughty games Selby deemed abnormal, that made me shiver in anticipation?

  Or the kind that didn’t work out well—the kind that shot a swift memory of Charlie through my head?

  “No, no. See, Selbs, you’ve made it way too big a deal.” Alex put his hand on mine. “He’s not abusive. He’s a great guy, but he’s got some tastes Selby doesn’t agree with. He’s not a monogamy kind of man—”

  I frowned. “Cheater?”

  “No, he’s a player.” Selby steepled her hands. “You deserve someone who wants to focus on you.”

  Alex and I both chuckled. Selby’s concern was sometimes way too overbearing.

  “That doesn’t faze me. What else?”

  “You like him, don’t you?” she said.

  The thought of his hand on my thigh made my cheeks burn. “There’s something about him.” My dopey grin must have shown on my face, because Alex folded his arms over his chest and smirked.

  “I’ve known Dean for a while. Most of the time, he’s a normal guy. But sometimes he likes things...a certain way. He’s seen stuff that sparked him different than most, I guess.”

  “Stop being cryptic,” I said.

  Selby jumped in. “He’s not very ‘vanilla,’ as you’d say.” She blew out a huff, and I almost fell off the bench.

  “Oh my God. Not vanilla? Oh, no!”

  Selby socked me in the shoulder.

  “Well, that changes everything,” I said to Alex. “Where do I sign up?”

  He shook his head. “Jesus, Maya. Listen, he’s shared some stories over the years, and knowing your interests—” he paused, “—Selby’s going to deprive me of lovin’ later for saying this, you know, but you two will probably have better sex than most.”

  “Alex!” she squealed.

  I threw my head back in a huge laugh, and Selby slapped her hands over her face. “I have no objection to that.”

  Selby stood up, half smiling. She cupped her palms around my shoulders. “Please be careful. Alex knows you and he’s right, you’ll have fun...but I know your past. I know you. I don’t want you to get hurt like you were before.”

  “This doesn’t sound like the same thing at all.”

  At some point, Selby had to see that I was an adult capable of making my own damn choices, unusual or not—and it sounded like Dean was precisely the kind of man who’d fill the craving I hadn’t tapped for years.

  “I think you’ll have fun. He’ll treat you like a queen, that I’m sure,” Alex said. “I expect to hear dirt.”

  Selby quieted as I gave her a hug, and I helped the two of them clear the rest of the table before joining the last few guests who hung out till well past dark. The California skies never got cold that night, but then again, something inside me burned hot enough to supersede any chill that could have lingered in the air.

  * * *

  I woke up at six thirty the next day to the blaring of my alarm and stretched myself out in my bed. Selby, Alex and I had stayed up until midnight talking about our jobs, and while I should have crashed over since their guest room often became my domain, I hadn’t wanted to rush around in the morning to get ready.

  I crawled out of bed and whipped through my pre-work routine: shower, breakfast, mascara and a toss of lunch into a bag. Somewhere between coffee and eggs, Dean crossed my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking of his grip on my leg, his questions about my kinky interests or the presumptuous way he’d said he wanted to play. The words had sent a flutter through my belly, surprising me—as if he had this dominance waiting inside, and I was somehow ready to respond to it. Though part of me felt like I should have minded, I didn’t. I hadn’t even been thrown by it.

  I’d welcomed it.

  He’d known this. Somehow, we’d both understood the desires pervading our conversation. And with the way he looked and the hint of his interests... I couldn’t wait to share more stories.

  Or, better—make our own.

  I shoved the thought aside. Selby said he was a player, so who knew if he’d text in the first place?

  After I ate my eggs, I finished getting ready. I wasn’t one for dragging out my prep time so I scooted out the door within another twenty minutes. Bay Area commutes were a nightmare, and the mere twelve miles to my office in Hayward translated to a solid hour in my car before I ever crossed the threshold of Women Organized for Change. The good news was that this allowed me time to mentally prepare on the way in, and wind down on my way back.

  Women Organized for Change, the company I worked for, had been in service for over two decades; it was a non-profit agency formed in San Francisco by a formerly battered public speaker, Jasmine Yaites. She served on the board and came to visit our new office in Hayward from time to time, and had become something of a legend. For me, she’d brought perspective ten years ago when I’d needed it most.

  I’d been in my fourth year of college, about to finish my bachelor’s in sociology and not yet ready to go out into the world. I’d taken on an internship at WOFC because I’d seen a posting on the job board at Cal, and though I’d wanted to go on for my master’s, I hadn’t known what to study.

  I also hadn’t had a clue what to do with my life, since I’d been about to go through a major uph
eaval.

  Jasmine had worked in the WOFC clinic in those days. Elegant, cultured and caring, she’d swept me in as an intern and shown me all around the place. She’d caught on to something else in my life through garbled phrases I’d uttered about Charlie over time, and the day she’d stopped dead in front of me and whipped around to take my hands, I hadn’t known what to do or say.

  “Maya, I know. I can see it. You’re a beautiful young woman with so much ahead of you. You’ll come to terms with this when you’re ready, but don’t let it ruin your future. Don’t let it ruin you.”

  She’d stared at me with her enormous brown eyes, and I’d gotten choked up—but she was my boss. She was my guidance counselor, my idol. She embodied so many things I aspired to be.

  She’d also nailed my big, dark secret without me ever telling her a thing.

  The next day, I’d switched my focus to social work, and that night, I’d started seriously mulling over my relationship with Charlie.

  Jasmine had been right—it had taken a while for me to come to terms with it all—but a year later I’d left him with help from Selby and my family, and a bit of time with a therapist. A year after that, having completed a master’s program in social work, I’d joined WOFC to help women who’d been through the same thing I had.