The Assignment

by Jade A. Waters

  Taking another cursory glance around, I pressed the pen into the bark and scrawled my first want.

  I want you inside me.

  I jumped back, bewildered. How could I already want him so badly?

  Slipping the pen back into my bra, I freed my phone from the armband holster. I zoomed in, making sure the words on the bark filled the screen, and sent the picture off before I could acknowledge the roil of my stomach.

  What would he have to say about that?

  Chapter Four

  When I got out of the shower, there were two texts waiting on my phone. Selby had sent one, and the other came from Dean.

  I waited to open his. I felt empowered and bold, and silly all the same—but I didn’t want to see his response yet. Part of me couldn’t believe what I’d done.

  I read Selby’s text instead. She’d just gotten home and wanted me to call, so I started dinner as her phone rang. We talked several times a week, and the banging noise of pots and pans while we did wasn’t uncommon for either of us.

  “Hey, girlie! How was work?”

  “Great,” Selby said. “The kids are excited for summer, but they’re being extra sweet. I think they’re sad to move on to fourth!”

  “That’s nice. But can you blame them? They’ve got you.”

  “Ahh. Thanks. What about you? Good day?”

  “Yep. It was pretty regular.”

  “Uh-huh. And?” Selby cleared her throat. “How are things?”

  “By ‘things,’ do you mean what I think you mean?”

  “Obviously. Do you two have a date yet?”

  “You sure are curious for not being Dean’s biggest fan. But yes, we do. On Friday.”

  “Wow, that’s fast. And on a Friday? Huh.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Friday is date night. He’s taking you out for date night on your first date? That usually requires, you know...a big connection first.” She coughed. “First dates are generally on Tuesdays.”

  I didn’t contest her bizarre theory, but how could I explain anything about what was happening between Dean and me?

  It wasn’t exactly usual.

  “Lucky for me, I guess.”

  “Are you excited?”

  “Yes. Are you worried?”

  “I just don’t want to see you hurt. He’s one of those guys, you know? He’s not the settling type.”

  “Did I say I was looking for settling?” It came out harsh but I couldn’t help it. Maybe I simply wanted to fuck around, and Selby couldn’t possibly understand.

  “No. Okay, okay. I won’t say anything else about it.” She shuffled the phone, and I knew she was uncomfortable. “I hope you have a fun date, though. Honest. Do you know what you’re doing yet?”

  “No. He said he wanted to think of something ‘perfect.’”

  “Huh. Well, that’s different.”

  “Yeah. We’ll see what happens. How’s Alex doing?” I served dinner onto my plate and sat at my table, and my cell buzzed against my ear for another text coming through. A grin broke out over my face, but I didn’t peek.

  “Great. Fields scored three more contracts this week! They’re kind of taking over the world.” She laughed. “He’s working a ton, but I know it makes him feel good.”

  “That’s awesome, Selby. Congrats to Alex.” Selby didn’t know, but Alex had hinted a few months prior that he needed more financial stability to secure things with her. He hadn’t said what he meant, but the look in his eyes had made my stomach flutter for my best friend. The amount of work and referrals Fields had received was great news.

  “I’ll tell him you said so. We should get together soon to celebrate,” she said.

  “I’m never one to turn down a celebration.”

  “Cool. Oh, I should go. He just got home, and I want to go smother him in kisses. Love you, sweetie.”

  “You too. Give him a kiss for me.”

  “Will do.”

  I smiled for Selby and Alex. The extra work would help both of them, a cushion for the outlandish mortgage they’d acquired in the last year—and maybe it would lead them in the direction Selby had hoped to go since her youth.

  I took a bite of my dinner and checked the phone. Dean had sent a second text. Excitement gripped me as I opened the messages.

  A+ for the first part of your assignment. I can’t wait to see the rest. More than that, though, I can’t wait to be inside you.

  I grinned in satisfaction, but heat shot up the back of my neck.

  The second message said, I’ve booked dinner at a lovely restaurant in Jack London Square at 7 on Friday. I’ve also reserved a suite at the Waterside Hotel there, for after. I hope that isn’t too presumptuous.

  Yes. Yes, it was presumptuous. I’d confessed a naughty want to him despite barely knowing him, but I wasn’t some girl who’d go along with whatever he said because of his irresistible charm. Yet my fingers texted before I could stop them, as if they knew every secret desire in me better than I did.

  That sounds amazing. Decadent, really.

  Yes. Pure decadence for you. I want to spoil you. Please you. I can’t wait to connect intimately...and explore you.

  My nipples hardened into stiff beads. The directness, the words... Holy fuck. Was he a sexual poet? How could I resist words like that?

  I typed, Yes, please. I don’t know what to say.

  Dean wrote, Don’t say anything for now. Think about what you want on Friday, of what I want of you. How I want to feel you... Then finish the last two parts of your assignment so I can know every one of your desires and give them all to you. You have a day and a half. I’ll talk with you soon. X

  I couldn’t finish dinner.

  All I could think about was Dean buried inside me.

  * * *

  Thursday afternoon, I dragged. I’d tossed around all night again, sleep far from my mind as I anticipated what would happen between Dean and me on Friday. I decided to make a coffee run and swung by Maddie’s desk on the way out.

  “Mocha?” I asked.

  She looked up from her keyboard. “I’m okay, though damn, it’s tempting with Timothy sleeping so weird. I was up half the night.”

  “Oh, crap. Again?”

  “He keeps having those monster dreams. We have to do the full bed check, sing songs, blah, blah...” She threw her hands out and sighed. “I’ll survive. But it’s not like you to get coffee in the afternoon.”

  “I know. I’m not sleeping well, either.”

  She snickered. “Hot dreams about a certain someone?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Lucky. That’s a much better reason to not sleep. I bet you can’t wait for your date.”

  I shrugged, but Maddie knew me too well.

  “Uh-huh,” she teased.

  “What are you doing this weekend?”

  Maddie swiveled in her chair toward me. “Henry and I are taking Timothy roller skating.”

  “Oh, how cute!”

  She grinned. “Totally. He’s a rock star on his bike already, but I thought we’d try this out. They have a whole disco theme thing they do Saturday mornings. And pizza.”

  “Timothy’s favorite.”

  “Right.”

  “Nice. I bet he’ll love it. I can’t wait to hear how it goes.”

  “We’ll have fun, I’m sure. Now go get your coffee—but promise me you’ll sleep tonight. I have a feeling you’ll need energy for this event.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I said, laughing. I left the building, heading out into the warm air and around the corner to the mom-and-pop café Maddie and I often hit in the mornings. They made the best mocha that no chain coffee shop could simulate, and after I ordered, I sat down and flipped through a magazine
someone had left behind. There were a few orders ahead of me, so I had a while.

  The issue was a women’s magazine I wouldn’t typically read, and after amusing myself with a segment on nail polish, I flipped to an ad with a man lifting a woman against a wall. She’d tangled her legs around his waist and dipped her head down to his, both of them ready to kiss. The rich colors and lighting gave the impression the two were about to fuck.

  I was dressed for work—slacks, blouse, low heels—but underneath it all, I’d become keenly aware of my skin. I ached to be touched, to feel like the woman in this ad.

  And to feel Dean’s lips on mine for the first time.

  The noise of the coffee shop became faint in my ears, and caught up in it, I dug my pen out of my bag.

  To my left, a man read the paper. Two tables over, a group of teens talked over their drinks. The baristas all chattered behind the bar, distracted. No one would notice if I scribbled something inappropriate in this magazine, right here in this public place.

  I went for it.

  Next to the couple was a blank stretch of wall, the tone lighter than that of the rest of the ad, as if the photographer had left it open for whatever I might say.

  I wrote, I want you to take me over.

  I peered around, but no one appeared to have seen me. I swapped the pen for my phone, pretending to read something on the screen while I snapped a picture of the ad. Once I sent it to Dean, his text came fast.

  A++, Maya. This one is fantastic. And yes, I will.

  The barista called my name. I closed the magazine and left it on the table, charged with desire. The realization that someone would find the scribble later thrilled me.

  The barista handed over my mocha with a wave. “Have a great day! Oh, and happy almost weekend!”

  “You too, thanks.”

  Almost weekend indeed. I couldn’t wait.

  * * *

  I slept that night, but it required an extra mile on my run and a pair of earplugs to calm my nerves. I’d spent a while listening to my breathing, the sound loud with the plugs in my ear—but it had eventually lulled me into the sleep I desperately needed.

  When I woke, I thought of my date. It had been a mere four days since I’d met Dean, but I’d gotten so wrapped up in the possibilities that I had to will myself through my routine. I left earlier than normal, hoping to set myself up to leave the office with more time to prepare.

  The anticipation provoked me all day. Paperwork, meetings, calls... I worked efficiently, but in the back of my mind, Dean’s voice repeated his wishes to dominate me, to explore. Somehow, I pushed it aside and immersed myself in work.

  By four thirty, I’d written drafts of three formal reviews and coordinated meetings between two shelters and our association, as well as reviewed all my case files. I’d tackled everything on my list, and if I cut out now, I’d beat some of the traffic and have a full hour to prepare.

  I gathered my purse and checked my phone. I had a message from Dean, but when I opened it, I realized I’d been caught up enough to forget.

  The assignment.

  “Crap,” I muttered.

  Maya... At work and thinking of you... Don’t forget part three. Your reward is waiting, his text said.

  I couldn’t go anywhere public and have time to get ready, but the deepest urge struck me while I read his text. Did he intend to hold out if I didn’t tackle the third part of the assignment?

  I sat in my desk chair debating. I didn’t know why I wanted to please him this badly, but in doing so, I knew I’d find myself just as satisfied.

  An idea popped into my head.

  I slipped a pencil and my phone in my pocket, then headed toward the restroom. Maddie saw me and ran out from behind her desk.

  “No! God, is it already time?” she asked. “I can’t believe how excited I am for your date!”

  I laughed, my hand shielding my pocket. My throat was dry and my nerves racing. What would Maddie think if she knew what I was up to? “Uh... I’m about to leave, but I had to use the ladies room first.”

  She gave me a hug. “Okay, I need to calm down. God, I hope you have a delightful time tonight. If you want my advice, I say run with the wild child in you. But I know you know that.”

  The wild child in me was why I’d headed to the bathroom in the first place. “Will do. Oh, hey, have a great time at the roller rink! Take lots of pictures.”

  “We will. Don’t forget—I want details next week!” Maddie hurried back to her desk, and I exhaled. I’d tell her, but at the moment I couldn’t believe what I was up to, so telling her was the last thing on my mind.

  In fact, Dean was the only thing on my mind.

  I entered the three-stall bathroom, calming somewhat when I found it empty. Once in the stall, I locked the door and took out my pencil. I had no options left at this point. Hopefully, he’d like my idea.

  My breath filled my ears as I bent to write at thigh level on the aluminum wall.

  I want your fingers tight around my thighs.

  My pussy swelled. I’d written my want in public, at work no less. The move was bold and desperate.

  That was how I felt—desperate to feel him.

  Wrangling my phone from my pocket, I unzipped my pants and tugged them down. I turned the camera on reverse and found myself in the image finder, centering the words between my thighs to take the picture. I made sure the image included a snippet of my panties.

  Hope this will do, I typed. I can’t wait to see you.

  I’d hardly refastened my pants when Dean responded.

  Now you’ve earned extra credit. This pleases me... When I strip you, I’ll give you exactly what you want, what you crave.

  The urge to touch myself struck so acutely it hurt. I hadn’t any time and I was at work. I fastened my pants, my clit throbbing for attention. All of me zinged with energy, with lust.

  Can’t wait, I wrote. It was the lamest response, but what else could I say?

  I erased the words on the wall and rushed out of work so fast Maddie didn’t have a chance to say another goodbye.

  * * *

  Dean had sent three messages by the time I got home, each of them more provocative than the last. He started off describing our spectacular suite and how he planned to take off my clothes, piece by piece, in the slowest possible manner, and by the last text, he’d shifted to blatant requests to kiss and touch every part of me in as many corners of the room as we could find. I’d playfully responded up until this. That was when I froze, phone in hand, gasping at the deep longing bubbling up inside me. I couldn’t remember wanting anyone like this before, and it took a glance at the clock to drive me back into motion. Catching my breath, I stripped off my clothes then paused to type, You’re delightful. I can’t wait to get to know you better. I must shower! XX

  His response came as a casual, Get to it! So many Xs for you.

  The words rushed me into the shower in seconds.

  Hair, makeup, clothes—I readied myself within forty-five minutes. I’d brushed my hair down my back and chosen a long, flowing skirt and sandals to pair with a simple black top, since I had a feeling easy access might be the way to go with Dean. I’d be an idiot to think otherwise. We had a bit of ground to cover before anything happened, but the blatant nature of our texts and conversations in the last four days were nothing I’d ever experienced. Something about them was natural, instinctual. The second he’d said the word exploration, I’d felt a hazy mixture of want, need and lust.

  All the same, we’d moved into these roles so quickly. Was I being too reckless and open? Selby would say yes, but Maddie would say no. Be overwhelmed. Live in the moment.

  In this moment, my giddiness made it challenging to keep my eyes on the road.

  I found the hotel easily once I arrived in Jack Lond
on Square. Located on the water, with most of the rooms facing the Oakland estuary or the Square’s courtyard, its white-and-blue paneling was fitting for a seaside location—cool yet welcoming all the same. I let the car idle while I gave Dean a call.

  “Hi,” he said, far peppier than the man who’d told me he wished to dominate me four days ago. “Are you here?”

  “Yes. Where should I park?”

  “Excellent. I’ve been working in our suite, but I’ve finished up. I’ll be right down. There’s a lot down the street, or a valet below. If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll come take care of the valet service for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s not a problem. Give me three minutes, tops.”

  “Okay.” I hung up, taking a hasty glance in the mirror before pulling close to the valet driveway. My heart thudded in my chest.

  Dean popped out of the lobby doors a minute later. When he spotted me, he raised his hand in a wave, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat. He sped up, dressed in a gray-blue suit tailored to fit his tall, toned physique. He looked elegant yet approachable, and when he swooped open the passenger door and climbed into the seat, he raked his eyes over me with a smile.

  It had been a mere four days—four agonizingly slow days—and I’d forgotten how handsome he was. In the dimming glare of the sun that streamed through the window, his tanned skin glowed richer and his eyes brighter. He was masculine and beautiful.

  “Hi,” he said. He trailed his gaze up to my face. “Jesus, you’re gorgeous.”

  How many times could this guy make me blush?

  As if knowing the ideal cure for the heat spreading over my cheeks, Dean planted a kiss on my lips.

  It was brief—the faintest taste of mint on lips that skimmed mine in an ephemeral kiss. He leaned back after and I stared, breathless.

  I wanted more.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

  Then, continuing the onslaught of sweetness, he rested his hand on my thigh, the weight stirring me like it had at the party. Dean didn’t caress me in any particular way; he merely curved his fingertips around the shape of my leg as if using his grip as a promise of things to come.