Risk (BDSM Dominant submissive Romance): Everything to lose. Everything to gain.

by Mia Moore

  Time slowed even more as she looked wildly around the room.

  The tissue foot was now high stepping. Just like Tinderbox's Rockette! Oh nooo!

  Skirt… lifting… will be…on my FACE WHEN I LAND!!! In the horror of this eternal moment, with her adrenaline firing on all cylinders, she saw at the bar…

  Gwen… from office….pointing cell phone… taking a…. oh nooo!!! … A…PICTURE!!!

  My ass… is going to be… all over the INTERNET!!! NOOOOOO!!!

  Craig felt her slipping and acted swiftly. He grabbed her arm, lifting her almost off the floor, pulling her upright, braced into his body.

  The axis of Jessica's universe magically righted itself. Time again warped to its normal speed. To say that she was flummoxed would be an understatement. She clung to him and squeeked, "Thanks."

  "Okay, Ginger Rogers, let's take a break. I think I wrenched my arm saving you." He laughed escorting her back to the bar.

  "Thank you. That could have been so embarrassing." She looked up at him from under her eyelashes.

  "No problem. I didn't want to share the view of your bare little ass. I'd have to fight off all the guys here to get you out the door. So really, I was just looking after myself."

  "Sure. I'm just going to pop into the ladies room. Be back in a flash…oops, I mean second."

  She skirted the dance floor and entered the washroom. Inside the cubicle she sat on the toilet. As she sat there, she tilted her foot sideways, intending to scrape the tissue off the sole of her shoe. It wasn't there.

  When she finished, much to her surprise, she found that the tissue she had placed earlier in the evening.

  Oh my God! All that and it wasn't even mine.

  Chapter 4

  On the way back to Jessica's place, she related her earlier quandary and the subsequent tissue saga to Craig. They both laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks.

  He parked the car and escorted her to the door of her apartment.

  "Would you like to come in for a nightcap or cup of coffee? It's not a school night. You can sleep in, tomorrow is Saturday."

  Tinderbox was itching to rub herself up and down Craig's leg like an alleycat. Ladylike had been left behind at Lula Lounge, still horrified at the dance debacle.

  "Thanks, but it's late and I really better go."

  Her stomach dropped down to knees. Ladylike reassured her. It IS after all the first official date.'

  He must have noticed the disappointment in her eyes, because he reached out to hug her tightly. "Do you know how hard it is for me to leave you?" he whispered in her ear.

  She snuggled closer, rubbing her stomach against him. "I've got a pretty good idea."

  "Can I see you Sunday?" He pressed back.

  "Yes. I don't have any plans that day."

  He kissed her deeply, cupping her head in his hands. She devoured his tongue, and probed enticingly with her own. She clasped his jacket in her fists, pulling him to her. He ran his hands down her back, inched her dress up with his fingers, and touched the bare skin of her ass. His hands were warm as she relaxed into his caress.

  He removed his hands and grasped her shoulders. "You're making this hard…I mean difficult."

  "No. Hard’s the correct word. And good, I'm glad."

  "I have something I want to send you tomorrow." His voice was low.

  "Flowers? Jewelry? I'm partial to emeralds."

  "No. A questionnaire."

  "Oh…you're such a romantic." She nibbled his earlobe.

  "I think you'll find it interesting; maybe a little stimulating even." He nuzzled her neck, sending shivers up her spine.

  "I find YOU stimulating." She threw her head back, giving him ample access to her throat. God it felt good.

  "I'd love to stay the night and spend the day with you." His hands slid down her waist to her hips.

  "Why don't you? I'll serve you breakfast in bed. Make it worth your while."

  He drew back and looked into her eyes. "I’d love to and you're really tempting me. But awhile ago, I made plans with my buddies to take in a ballgame tomorrow. The Jays are playing the Yankees. But I want to see you Sunday."

  "Thrown over for a ballgame and male bonding. I gotta' brush up on the feminine wiles."

  "Believe me, when it comes to wiles, you've got it.

  "Okay, enough flattery mister. What's with this questionnaire? Now you've got my curiosity aroused too. You tease."

  "Well, you DID express an interest in Dom sub play, way back when. Has it only been since Thursday night? It feels like I've known you so much longer."

  "Maybe I was your cat in a former lifetime."

  "I'm not touching that line. Biting my tongue. But back to the questionnaire. Be a good pussy and give me your personal email?"

  "You're bad." She smiled and went into her kitchen to grab a pen and paper. She scribbled her address on it and returned feigning a cat hissing and scratching at him.

  He cautiously reached for it and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek.

  "Goodnight Jessica. I had a great time." He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

  "Me too." She shut the door quietly behind him.

  She smiled as she turned out the lights and walked to her bedroom. Yes, it was disappointing and frustrating that he hadn't stayed. Tinderbox had thrown herself face down on the floor, kicking and screaming, wailing in her tantrum. Ladylike was admonishing TB to get over it. Grow up.

  She hung up her clothes and fell into bed. She’d sleep in, the next morning.

  ***

  On the drive home from Jessica's, Craig was more confused than she. Neanderthal Craig berated him, What a schmuck, you could have jumped her bones at least three times if you'd stayed.

  Craig didn't have an answer. Why hadn't he stayed? He dated women regularly and usually was involved in two relationships a year. They were almost like clockwork – ninety day wonders. Ninety days intense, ninety days single.

  This was different. Neanderthal was confused- she's got boobs to die for and a great ass, was warm for his form and he walked away! What the hell was up with that? Craig didn't know. And that scared him.

  Chapter 5

  There was a light drizzling rain as Craig and Bob stood huddled under the overhang of the Dome at Gate H, waiting for Eddie.

  "Is he ever on time? I wanted to grab a beer at the bar before the game." Bob’s lips were a straight line in his plump face.

  "Well you know Eddie. He probably had to rush home from some one night stand's place, after pushing the clock. No doubt grabbed a last minute piece of tail. Next to that, we aren't high on his priorities. Are you jealous Bob, or is it missing out on the frosty beer that's got you steamed?" Craig grinned at his friend.

  "Yeah right. I'm a happily married man. Not like you two running around with every skirt in town. Mark my words. One of you're gonna' pick some chick up and some STD at the same time."

  "Okay. Jealousy it is. I think I see the tomcat now. And I'm nothing like him. I resent that."

  "No, you resemble that."

  "Semantics. I guess that's why you're my editor."

  "Hey Sleeze! What took ya so long?" Bob called out to Eddie. Eddie's last name was actually Sleethe but Bob liked to take poetic license wherever he could. He was an editor after all.

  "Fuck you Bowles. How are ya, Mike?" Eddie answered with his usual wit and charm. He strode up to where Craig and Bob were standing and gave Bob a few air jabs with his fists.

  They joined the line in front of the entrance with their tickets in hand. Craig glanced at both of them. Why did the three of them got along so well? Their backgrounds were so different. He’d met Bob of course when he submitted his manuscript to Penguin House. They shared the same dry wit and of course struck up a friendship. He’d been to Bob's home many times. Mary, Bob's wife and their two daughters Rebecca and Susanne always fussed over him, making him feel like some long lost uncle.

  Now Eddie was a different story. When they first met at t
he marina, they’d taken an instant dislike to one another. Eddie had been with his latest flavor of the moment, riding the waves in his powerboat, almost swamping Craig's scull. They had exchanged a few choice words at one another. An hour after that they returned to the shore and coincidentally crossed paths in the parking lot. The argument continued and it was the intervention of Eddie's ladyfriend that prevented the scene from escalating into a fist fight. She’d been embarrassed by Eddie's behavior and had stormed off, leaving him stranded.

  Craig had watched her tear a strip off Eddie, saw her peel out of the lot, leaving him high and dry. Although initially he cheered her actions, enjoyed seeing Eddie's predicament, he’d rolled his eyes and thought ' What the hell?' He recalled their banter that day.

  "Hey asshole. Need a lift?" Craig had grinned at him.

  "Fuck you." Eddie's standard reply.

  "You might as well. It's the only fucking you're going to get today."

  "Yeah and it's all your fault fuck face. You OWE me."

  "Yeah, too bad. She was pretty hot. C'mon, buy me a beer and I'll give you a lift. As long as it's not too far." Craig had extended his arm to Eddie.

  They had a few drinks together, still trading obscene endearments and an odd friendship was born. Craig talked Eddie into trying rowing and they often competed with one another. Eddie, being a few years younger than Craig and a work out buff, often beat him.

  The three men entered the building and found their seats, between home and first base, five rows up. Eddie, ever the flirt, caught the eye of a roving waitress and ordered beer for them. Not only did he get their beer, but he also had her phone number before she left. That guaranteed that their glasses would never be empty.

  "So how's tricks Mike? Getting' any?" Eddie asked before taking a swallow of beer. Craig's sex life was always Eddie's first concern. Well… a close second to his own, of course.

  Bob rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  "Not as much as you studly. But I met a nice woman the other night. Thank you Bob."

  "Why're you thanking me? I ain't some pimp." Bob gave him a friendly punch in the arm.

  "Did ya tap her?" Eddie asked, his eyes surveying the warm up in the field.

  "I don't TAP women. They're not maple trees, y'know. She's a nice lady."

  "Frigid huh?" Eddie then swore watching Derek Jeeter snag a line drive for an out.

  "Fuck you. She's hot as hell. She's a lady and she's smart." Craig turned to look at Eddie.

  "Think this could be the one? Bout time you settled down, found a good woman." Bob remarked before jumping to his feet cheering. Carlos Delgado had hit a triple.

  "Smart huh? What's she doing with you then? Give her my number." Eddie said, although he usually didn't score too well with smart women.

  "That'd cinch it for you Mike. She'd come running to you if she saw Eddie." Bob chuckled.

  "Fuck you and the horse you rode in on Bowles. Your round by the way." Eddie held up his empty beer can.

  The waitress hurried over. “Three more cupcake. That ugly mug's paying this time. Don't worry I won't let him stiff ya." He pointed at Bob.

  And to Craig he murmured "Any stiffin' with that chicklet is gonna' be me."

  It was Craig's turn to shake his head and roll his eyes. How does he attract them? Sure he looks like Dennis O'Leary, kind of acts like him too for that matter.

  The cute waitress returned with their beer and Bob fished out two twenties, scowling at Eddie.

  After an afternoon of ball, where copious amounts of beer was consumed by Bob and Craig (Eddie was the DD and besides he had a hot date waiting), they poured themselves into Eddie's Mustang. Bob, being shorter than Craig by at least six inches, contorted his portly body into the backseat, grumbling once more. "Why the fuck can't you buy a decent car? You're a stock broker for fuck's sake. Can't you swindle some cash and get a real car?"

  "Fuck you. Try goin' to the gym or take a taxi. It's a hot car." Eddie countered.

  "Hope not too hot. Did you notice that cop car following us?" Craig turned to look at Eddie.

  "You pussies. O'Brien's again?"

  "Yeah. Drop us near the door, I gotta' piss like a racehorse. I hope I can hold it when try to wrestle myself out of this tin can." Bob put his hand on the back of Eddie’s seat.

  "Fuck you Bowles. You piss on my leather seats and you pay for re-upholstery." Eddie pulled up in front of the pub. There was a smile on his face. He admired Bob, although he'd never admit it.

  "Well, thanks for the lift Eddie, we'll miss your rapier wit at dinner." Craig held the seat forward for Bob.

  Eddie turned his head to peer at the seat Bob had just climbed out of. "Yeah well. I won't miss you when I'm getting my dick wet."

  "See ya' later Sleeze. Thanks for the lift." Bob hurried into the pub.

  "Later, bros," Eddie pulled away.

  Craig trailed after Bob into O'Brien's Pub. It was their usual haunt after a Jays game. A few more pints, good pub grub and home to sleep it off. Every man's dream day. Their usual table near the window was free and Craig walked to it motioning to the bar tender for two beers. Bob joined him after a few minutes, smiling at the welcoming beer.

  "That damned Jeeter. Can you believe it? Two home runs. The Jays just haven't been the same since Cito Gaston. They better be careful or they'll end up like the Leafs." Bob shook his head and took a large swallow of beer.

  "Yeah, but you know it won't matter. Win or lose, we'll still go to Jays and Leafs games." Craig smirked. "How's the family?"

  "Great! Mary's got me doing gardening work, working up a new flower bed. The girls are pretty happy. Only a few more weeks of school and they've got summer jobs lined up. Why don't you come over some time?" Bob tilted his head and scowled.

  "Yeah. It's been a while. Maybe I will." It had actually been months, but neither man made an issue of it.

  "So what's the story with the art gallery? You went and met a woman there? What's her story?" Bob asked before downing the rest of his beer.

  The waiter appeared and they both ordered the usual, burgers, fries and salad.

  "Well she's at Weekly News. Does the culture beat. Maybe you know her. Jessica Rogers."

  Bob thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. I've read some of her stuff, not bad. Pretty cute picture of her too. So, is she a keeper?"

  Bob had often nagged Craig into getting serious with a woman. Have some kids before it's too late. And as far as Bob was concerned, that time for Craig was approaching fast. He had also been around when Craig's relationship with Josee had ended. Craig was pretty shook up when she left. And it was small wonder that he was cautious. Bob knew that still waters run deep, unlike Eddie's shallow, bubbling brook.

  "Well I can honestly say she's unique. For a big city journalist, she's pretty soft and innocent. And funny as hell."

  "Sense of humor's really important. Life being what it is, if you can't laugh, it's gotta make you cry." Bob leaned closer. "What do you mean innocent? C'mon!"

  Craig eased back, away from his friend. What was it about Jessica? "Well… maybe innocent's too much- hell, she's in her mid twenties, I think." Craig shook his head, "I don't know exactly- it feels like innocence; okay?"

  "Ohhkayyy…"

  "It's just that she's got this kind of outlook, man. Maybe it's not innocent. But I got to tell you- she's optimistic then."

  "What the hell you mean- she expecting to win the Lottery or something?" Bob grinned at his joke.

  "No… hell, I don't know… it's just that- and this sounds stupid, I know- it's just that she finds the good in stuff. I swear to God, if she stepped in dog shit, she'd say something like she was glad someone was feeding the pooch well." He shook his head again as if trying to clear it. He looked directly at Bob. "She's just so damn… so damn kind man…"

  "Oh, gives to the United Way. Okay- whoop de doo, me too." Bob was trying to draw him out. This was his bro's first time talking about a woman he was involved with without describing her body, or
the sex they had. Something's different, and he wanted more facts.

  "Whoop de doo and fuck you.." Craig smiled. "No, man, she really is. Last time she went on vacation- a vacation with a bunch of other chicks- she got them all to bring suitcases of medical supplies with them! On her vay-cayyyy man! Yeah, she's kind, you know?"

  "Yeah, I know. She kind of got your attention, Craig. Maybe you should kind of … oh I don't know… she sure sounds cool."

  "Kind of what?" Craig asked, more sharply than he’d intended.

  "Shit, what do I know? Kind of… treat her with a little more kindness? I don't know… she sounds… Mikey…"

  "What?"

  "This one sounds kind of special."

  That comment hung in the air for a moment. The two men looked at each other- in a sort of guy way, neither backing down. And neither spoke for a few moments.

  "Okay. Enough talk of women." Craig tried to steer the conversation away from Jessica… because Bob was right. "On to more important stuff. What do you think the chances are that there'll be another hockey strike this season?"

  What was it about Jessica? She was different from other women he'd met. He was looking forward to seeing her answers to the questionnaire he’d sent her that morning, and no way, no way in hell was he discussing THAT with his buddy Bob.

  Chapter 6

  Derek Jeeter was catching a fly ball at the Skydome when Jessica rolled out of bed. She glanced at the alarm clock. 'Oh my God. 2:30 in the afternoon?" And now she had to make coffee. Her late night smooching with Craig had thrown her routine out of kilter, not to mention other parts of her anatomy. As she prepared the coffee she pictured their date, stifling a giggle at the wad of tissue part.

  While the pot was dripping water through, she wandered into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and washed her face. She dreamily applied moistener to her face recalling Craig's kiss. There was a tingle in her stomach. The Questionaire! He was going to send that to me.

  She dashed into her living room and booted up her laptop. As it was whirring to life, she got a cup of coffee and settled into her favorite comfy chair chair with the laptop set before her. She signed into her email account and there it was. The email from Craig. She clicked it and read.