by Unknown
She wanted to take her time and give him a tease, but he had said twenty minutes and she didn’t want to waste any of that time. Instead, she undressed quickly. Some of that time would be spent getting dressed again, as well. She wouldn’t put it past Hart making her be naked in the car, but she had to wear something to get to the parking deck.
“Display,” he said.
She moved into position, watching his face. His intense stare made her feel beautiful. He closed the gap and kissed her deeply, one hand on the small of her back. He moved slightly to the side, continuing the kiss. She felt his fingers slide along her nether lips and then penetrate her, curling just so. It was an incredible sensation, his long fingers reaching places she couldn’t even in her most private moments.
She panted for breath when his lips parted. “Are you going to make me come?”
“No.”
She pouted at him, in spite of knowing better. “Please?”
“No.” His fingers still moved, however, and the tension built in her core. It was so easy to be turned-on in his presence. Normally she didn’t think twenty minutes was possibly long enough for an orgasm. With him, it was plenty of time.
He must not realize how close I am. Maybe I can. He didn’t say I couldn’t, merely that I wouldn’t.
He slid his fingers out with a smile at the last possible moment, and her pussy clenched at nothing, wanting to be filled. “That’s enough, I think. Until next week.”
Until my vibrator.
“And no masturbation either, Vanessa. No orgasms until Friday night. I will see you Friday, won’t I?”
Damn. “Yes.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Only if it pleases you, Master Hart.”
He smiled. “Fortunately, it does.” He backed up. “Get dressed and I’ll drive you home.”
Of course he couldn’t know what she did at home. She wondered if he knew that the denial itself was arousing to her. Would he make it worth her while Friday? She suspected he would, but she’d be in for a good time even if she played with her vibrator every night during the week. Only she would know.
She put her clothes back on.
While they were riding back she wondered if she should ask him to spend the night. It probably wouldn’t work. He probably couldn’t commute to wherever he had to be in the morning from her house any easier than she could from his, although at least they’d both have access to their own cars.
“I have a question, Vanessa,” he asked suddenly. “Not as Master and submissive. Just you to me.”
As boyfriend and girlfriend? Whoa, don’t get ahead of yourself. But maybe he has the same idea. And it will be better if he leads. “What is it?”
“You know how I was telling you about my dreams for a club, where we could do some education as well as have play parties?”
“Yes. I thought it sounded wonderful. You’re a really good man for wanting to take that all on. You know it will be a big project. I’d offer to help but I’m kind of a novice. As you no doubt can tell.”
“You won’t be a novice once I’ve finished training you.” His brow furrowed.
She didn’t like the sound of the word “finished” but she was still glad she got more than a weekend.
“Although with us,” he added, “who knows where training ends and play begins sometimes.”
She smiled. That sounded a little bit more promising. “Only if it pleases you, Master Hart.”
“Anyway, I was wondering how you would feel about having those play parties in your house. There’s all sorts of room you aren’t using, where we could put bondage furniture. We could collect money—people pay twenty-five bucks to get into the Devil’s Workshop and I bet they’d pay at least that to come to our parties. Part of that would have to go into safe sex supplies and equipment, but a lot of it could go into upkeep on the house.”
She stared at him, but he was focused on his driving as he navigated the winding road leading to her house. She knew she shouldn’t begrudge him looking at the road, but the lack of eye contact was unnerving. So that’s why he wants me. That’s what makes me different. Everyone knows Hart Wolfe never gives a girl more than a weekend, or occasional play at the club, but I have a big house.
She didn’t answer him immediately, but waited until he pulled his car to a halt in front of her home. He got out to get her door, but she opened her own and hopped out. His brow furrowed again. A few moments ago she had only wanted to please him, but now she wasn’t so sure. Time with a Dom like Hart in exchange for letting him use the house? Maybe I should just go with it, accept the help with the house upkeep and enjoy the sheer physical pleasure of it. Except it wasn’t just about physical pleasure. Serving did something for her deep inside that enhanced the sensations he gave her with his cock and tongue and fingers. He seemed to understand, with his poses and his protocol, that there was so much more to BDSM then the physical.
“Let me think about it,” she said.
He smiled. “Of course.”
He took her hand and she let him. They walked to the door together and she marveled at how strong, warm and protective his hand felt. Could that feeling lie?
He pulled her to him and kissed her. Her first impulse was to pull back, and then she wondered why he wasn’t letting her. He seemed so sensitive, surely he could sense her sudden coldness? But either way he was having none of it, and her lips opened to him, drawn by instinct. He had what she wanted. What she needed. He knew how to command her and how to hold her. She kissed him back, the coldness growing to a hunger that no longer made sense to her. When he let her go, she was breathless and confused.
“I better go,” she said.
He nodded and gave her a smile that made her think maybe he understood. She turned before his gaze could capture her heart again and fumbled with the key in the lock. If I turn, I might get another kiss. She forced herself to open the door and hurry in. She flicked on the lights and only turned to close the door.
She was vaguely disappointed to find him already gone from the stoop and already at the side of his car. He waved and then disappeared behind the heavily tinted windows.
She waved back, feeling it was inadequate. She ought to be slapping him. Or kissing him. Maybe both. A wave felt weak.
She closed the door behind her, looking around the big empty house. Maybe it would be nice to have a play party there. She did enjoy watching other people play. Well, not everyone. It depended on what they were doing. She turned her head at needle play, or when a whipping continued even after a sub’s body was striped with marks. Especially, she realized, if the sub was a woman. Somehow she had a prejudice than a man could take it. She chuckled at herself. The scenes she liked best were the ones where the couple had an obvious affection for each other, and chose to express it in a perverse and creative way. She wouldn’t mind that sort of thing going on in her living room at all.
My house, my rules. Or maybe she could confine the stuff she didn’t want to deal with to the garage. There was plenty of space there for a few scenes.
Then she looked around again and imagined Hart in one of his scenes—with another woman. She’d seen him play with a different one every time she’d been to the Devil’s Workshop. He sure as hell wasn’t going to play with anyone else in her house. Another rule.
She didn’t like the idea that he was only keeping her so he could use her house for his parties one bit. And yet, if she made it a condition of using the house that he could only play with her, she was doing the same thing, using the house to keep him around. She shrugged. Might be true, but it ain’t changing. I know what I could stand, and it doesn’t include watching that. Even though I’ve watched it before.
She didn’t even want to see that in the club. Her stomach clenched. One weekend with him and she already felt possessive. I’m not anything special to look at. He could have plenty of women. So why me? The only answer she could come up with was her house.
She turned out the lights. She didn’t need them to make her way
up the old familiar stairs. Tonight, even more than usual, she was aware of just how alone she was.
* * * * *
Hart checked his phone for messages but there was nothing. Not even a missed call. Over the last two days he’d called Vanessa several times. He’d left messages on her answering machine. He’d even called her work once. Her colleague had answered and had promised him Vanessa would call him back. She hadn’t.
He wasn’t used to this. On a few occasions where, despite making it perfectly clear he wasn’t interested in a relationship, women had pursued him with texts and phone calls he usually answered them, because he understood it was part of his responsibility. Subs needed aftercare. Some Doms did too. He had never thought that he was one of them.
He’d always tried to be careful. Too much attention, after all, could give the wrong impression. But he didn’t like being on the receiving end. Every instinct he had as a Dom told him that Vanessa had enjoyed herself as much as he had, and had a yearning to submit. And now she wasn’t answering his e-mails or returning his phone calls? It didn’t make sense. For some reason, she was having second thoughts.
He expected that he’d be the one to have second thoughts. He wasn’t. He wanted her.
She’s gotten back together with Walt. It was the most logical conclusion. Possibly she was only throwing herself so thoroughly into service out of loyalty to the man who’d rented her out for the weekend. That fit—with everything but her reaction at the club. And the fact that she didn’t so much as mention him during the long car rides when they’d both been sharing details of their lives.
He wanted to drive out to talk to her. Instead, he called up his friend Chuck and arranged to meet him at a nearby bar for some drinks and darts.
They’d played two rounds and drunk a beer each when Chuck glanced at him. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing,” Hart replied.
“Try again. You haven’t thrown so badly since your dad died. You can hide your emotions from everyone else, but I can see it in the way you throw, every time.”
Hart just glared at him.
A waitress, a buxom blonde who could have been right out of a German beer ad but was wearing a tight scoop-necked T-shirt instead of a dirndl, brought them each a second mug of beer. Gloria was one of the features of Mulligan’s. Hart mumbled thanks.
Gloria looked at him quizzically before exchanging smiles with Chuck.
“And you’re not flirting with Gloria either,” Chuck observed. “She’s looking especially fine tonight.”
“Gloria is married and has two kids at home.”
“It never stopped you from admiring her assets before,” Chuck pointed out.
“Because she likes the attention.”
“She does. Pure politeness, I get it. You’re a self-sacrificing soul, always taking one, or two, for the team. What the hell is bugging you?”
Hart explained how the warehouse deal fell through, knowing Chuck knew it all already but going into a little more detail. He knew that wasn’t really it, but he didn’t want to tell Chuck about Vanessa.
Chuck listened patiently, didn’t say a word, and then turned to throw another round of darts. Hart tried to concentrate and kept it close, but only because Chuck had an off game.
“So that sucks,” said Chuck. “What else?”
“You are not going to keep analyzing me by my dart game.”
“No, but now you’re throwing my game off as well. I can believe you’d throw lousy darts over a deal—maybe—but usually when a construction deal goes sour you’re unbeatable. Hyper-focused. And you’d show Gloria a little extra attention. And you’d set up a date with Carol or Alexis or Kalisha or some other pain slut and work out your frustration to both of your mutual benefit. Have you done that?”
The thought of playing with any of them left him cold, even though they’d been good times in the past. It didn’t seem right somehow. And working out his frustrations with his job on a willing sub’s back was one thing. Working out his frustrations with Vanessa on one of them was out of bounds. “No, I haven’t.”
“No, you haven’t,” mimicked Chuck. “Instead you’re playing darts with me, and I appreciate that. First time I’ve beaten you in a couple of months. So now then.” He grabbed his beer and took a long pull. “Spill.”
Hart took a deep breath. “Did you see that girl I took home last Friday?”
“Vanessa. Yeah. I talked to her a few times. I think Sandra knows her a bit better. I thought she was going steady with Walt, so it created a bit of a stir when she started playing with you. Trust me, we all noticed. And may I say, thank you very much for getting her naked in the club. Brightened up the place.”
Hart resisted the urge to slug Chuck. For one thing, Chuck was bigger. But for another, this was how they always talked, teasing each other about their exploits. Nothing was sacred with Chuck, and Hart didn’t want to change that even though he felt like putting Vanessa out of bounds.
“You’ve fallen for her,” said Chuck.
“Why do you say that?” asked Hart. He couldn’t deny it, but there was no way the man knew. It was just a lucky guess.
“Normally you’d say you’re welcome. This time, you looked like you wanted to kill me. Or poke my eyes out for seeing her in the buff. If you’d wanted her your eyes only you should have kept her clothes on.”
Hart knew what Chuck was trying to do because he’d occasionally done it with subs who were reluctant to tell him what they wanted or what their limits were. Get someone a little riled and they’d say things they wouldn’t otherwise say. He shrugged. He knew deep down that this is what he came for. Maybe Chuck would tell him he was full of it, that he shouldn’t get so fixed on one girl, that he just wasn’t a one-woman man. “Yes, I should have. But I didn’t know at the time. Besides, I think she gets a bit of a charge out of being naked.”
“Let’s grab a table,” said Chuck. “I think this is going to take a while.”
Hart nodded and they both grabbed their beers and sat across from each other at a small table against the wall. “So what’s special about Vanessa?”
“You saw her. She’s incredibly hot.”
“She is. Nice and curvy. Totally your type. As are some other girls you’ve dumped without a second thought. Yeah, I know, you always do aftercare. Sometimes I think that just gives them false hope. So she’s got a sexy body. High pain tolerance, I assume?”
“No, not at all.”
Chuck raised his eyebrows.
“Really,” said Hart. “She’s not into pain. She can take it like a trooper if she has to, in small quantities. To please. But for herself, no, she doesn’t want it. I don’t think she’s ever been in subspace from pain, and I’m not even sure she could get there. I’d be nervous about trying, frankly, from what little I’ve seen. I think a really intense pain scene would leave her feeling really bad, emotionally as well as physically.”
“Some women are like that.”
“Most women are like that, in the big wide world.”
“Sure. Which is why you and I don’t date in the big wide world much. So you’re saying she’s vanilla?”
Hart shook his head. “No. She’s not vanilla. Not at all. She just— Her thing is that she loves to please. I can see it in her eyes. They light up when she’s been given a command, and even more so when I tell her she’s done something well. She gives—” He was about to say incredible head, but he decided he didn’t want to share that detail. “Herself. She likes rope. She’s courageous enough to follow even instructions she doesn’t like. She lets me push her limits. And when I’m with her I feel like the best Dom in the world.”
“I thought you were,” said Chuck. “Excepting me, of course.”
Hart laughed. “It’s not that. I know I’m pretty good with a whip. Or rope. Or a flogger. Okay, the best in this area with at least one of those. And I know that skill is appreciated. That makes me feel like a good top. Maybe a good Dom. But Vanessa makes me feel like the best man
in the world. The only man sometimes.”
“And you want that feeling again, but you’ve sent her away, like usual.”
“I did not send her away. I asked her out for next weekend.” He frowned. “And I don’t think it’s just a matter of getting another fix of that high. I want to be as good a man as she thinks I am.”
Chuck clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine, bro. No worries there. Wait…you asked her out but she didn’t accept?”
“She did. But since then she doesn’t answer my e-mails, doesn’t return my phone calls, nothing. I wonder if she’s gone back to Walt.” He paused and explained the bet and the whole thing of how he had ended up with Vanessa for the weekend.
“If she did, I just lost a lot of respect for her. Still, she said yes on Friday, and hasn’t canceled?”
“Yes. But we didn’t make arrangements for where to meet either. She’s got a beautiful home, out in the sticks, and I figured I’d pick her up there, hit a nice restaurant, go back to her place or mine for some fun.”
“A date. The kind you never take any other woman on.”
“Basically.”
“So let her know what time you’re showing up and then quit pestering her. She’ll either tell you not to come, or…not. I tell you though, it sounds like you did something to piss her off.”
“There was a sudden chill in the air for sure when I dropped her off,” Hart recalled.
“And what did you say? Something about other women?”
“No.” Hart relayed the conversation, as best as he could remember.
“So she’s got this fantastic house,” Chuck said. “And you told her you wanted to use it to replace the club you’ve been working on, and you can’t figure out what went wrong?”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Unless you really do just want her for her house. But it doesn’t sound like that’s it.”
“I’ve got to let her know that’s not it.”
“She’ll just take that as evidence that it’s on your mind. You can’t tell her. You have to show her.”
“If that chased her back to Walt…”
“I’ll check up on that for you, discreetly. I’ll talk to Carol, and if that fails I’ve got some other channels. I think if she’s with Walt I’ll be able to find out and I’ll let you know. But seriously? Walt wants to be a heavy player. And it doesn’t sound like your Vanessa is ever going to satisfy him.”
