I circle my way out of the parking lot and step on the gas, heading as fast I can to the freeway.
I smile, imagining how surprised Jane’s gonna be when I show up on her doorstep. She’ll probably rip me out of my clothes before I can get inside, I think. If I’m lucky.
Chapter 21
Jane
When I pull into my long, circular, fountain-decorated driveway, and park my car just outside the front door, I see Dad is home. He’s waiting for me right at the doorstep. He looks tired. About as exhausted as I feel, though I doubt it has anything to do with emotions or broken hearts. Probably just too many hours in front of the computer.
I get out of my car, not making any plans to unpack. There will be plenty of time for that. Maybe when the semester starts again, and I’ve had time to forget how bad I’m feeling now. How lonely and stupid I feel.
Didn’t think it was possible when I left, but I feel more alone and foolish than I did before this whole trip.
Dad is right there as I climb the regal mansion steps, and step into the foyer. I know he can see the sadness on my face. The depression, and I don’t hide it. To try to be cheery for him.
“Hi, Daddy,” I say, walking past him and into a sitting room. It’s filled with some hunting trophies, more than a few pictures of me, and some of his most favorite treasures from his times abroad. Snow globes being one of his favorite souvenirs, they take up more space than any other little trinket.
“Sweetheart,” he says, hesitating to follow me inside the sitting room, “I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it to Aspen with you this year.” He brushes back his regal head of white hair. “I really am, Janie.” He hasn’t called me “Janie” in years. “This time I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He holds up his hands as if I have energy to fight him. “Spring break. I’ll take you to Cancun for spring break,” he says, as I sigh and flop back on the couch.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, feeling tears and frustration well up. “But I don’t really feel like making any more vacation plans for a while.” I sniff, fighting to keep from breaking down and crying in front of him. For some reason, I just don’t feel safe being vulnerable with him that way. Not since I met Alex. “Do you mind if I have a little time to myself?” I sit up, but only enough to look at him.
It takes him a moment, but he finally moves away. Turns his back on me, and shuffles into another of the large rooms. Probably the den, where we have a large entertainment area, and where he frequently watches his horse races, football championships. “Whatever you need, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “I’ll be in here if you need me or want to join me.”
Now he’s the one who sounds emotional. Ready to cry, but of course he never will. Not in front of me.
I don’t cry until he’s really in the other room. And even then, I keep it under my breath as much as possible. Quiet and controlled, though I feel like I want to just rip my heart out. I’m so, so stupid! I have the most perfect guy in the world, and I don’t give him my phone number! I don’t give him any way to contact me! I press my hands to my eyes, wondering if I’ll ever run out of tears. Aches and pains in my throat. I’ve lost the perfect guy, and now I’ll never have the chance to be with him ever again. I’ll never find another guy like him either! A small whimper climbs into the space from my burdened lips. Even if I wait my whole lifetime, I won’t have another chance at a guy like Alex!
These thoughts swirling in my head, I resign myself to sorrow. I cry until I think I have no tears left.
Then I get up and do what Dad always does when he wants to just give up; I get myself busy with something productive.
Getting up off the couch, and walking the distance to the kitchen, I take out my phone and call Mariah. If nothing else, I’ve decided to be upfront with her. To tell her the truth.
As always, Mariah is quick to answer. By the time she says, “hello” I’m already almost in tears again.
“Mariah,” I say, letting her hear my pain. Immediately, she tries to calm and comfort me. Ask me what’s the matter, but I stop her. “Before you say anymore, Mariah, I need to be honest with you.” I pause, wiping my nose on the back of my sweater sleeve. “When we were on this trip, you weren’t the only virgin. I was too.”
Shakily, I comb piece of my hair over one ear. The one not blocked by the phone. “And on top of that, Alex was the perfect guy for me, and I just let them go.” I squeak that last word, wondering just how many times I’m going to have to cry my eyes out before I have no more tears left. “I let him get away because I didn’t think we would just leave like that, but now I have no way of ever seeing him again.” I left my address with his brother, but I don’t think he was paying enough attention to notice. I don’t think he’ll remember to ever give it to him.
“Oh, Jane,” Mariah says sounding guilty and self-conscious, “I didn’t realize you were into him. I didn’t realize you had made plans to…” She curses herself here. “I’m so, so sorry, girl! I didn’t mean to hurt your chances with him.” A sigh. “God, how selfish am I?”
“Don’t beat up on yourself, Mariah. It’s not all your fault. I could have given my phone number to him this morning, but I didn’t.”
After that, Mariah and I just hang on the phone with each other for a while. We say nothing. We just sit there with each other, acknowledging feelings. Shortcomings.
But finally, Mariah breaks the silence. When she does, her tone has completely shifted. She’s no longer beating up on herself but comforting me. Loving me.
“You know, Jane, it sounds like you and Alex are meant to be together. It sounds like the two of you are such a good match. The world would be crazy to keep you two apart for long.”
I nod, feeling tears rising again. But this time I don’t let them spill over. “Yeah.”
“So,” she says, “I believe that if people are meant to be together, they’ll find each other. They’ll find a way to connect, even if it seems like everything’s broken down, you know?”
“Yeah.” This time I’m feeling less weepy, and more optimistic. A little warmer inside, and not so negative.
“If he loves you as much as you love him,” Mariah says, conviction growing in her voice, “then he will find his way to you, with or without a phone number.” She pauses, sighing. “I know you miss him. But just try not to think about it too much. Try reading a book.” A small laugh. “That’s what I always do when I need something to distract me from things going wrong in my life.” Another short, meditative pause. “I’m happy for you, Jane,” she murmurs. “I’m happy you found someone you love that much. Especially when you thought this trip was just going to be for me. Look what the universe brought you. A beautiful man who is finding his way to you right now.”
For the first time in what feels like forever, I giggle.
“Mom’s calling me for dinner now,” Mariah says, “so I gotta go. But call me later if you want. I’ll have my phone on.”
“Okay.” I’m feeling much better, even though I’m still missing Alex. “I will.”
With that, I hang up and head into the room that holds our extensive personal library. I choose a book from the shelf, thinking I might like it. It was one of Mom’s favorites. About a group of Victorian-era sisters caught up in a web of love, suitors, and premature death.
I curl up on a nearby recliner and turn on the light right next to me.
I open the book and begin to read. I do this for at least a half an hour, but try as I might, I can’t focus on anything. Not the words or dialogue. It’s just passing before my eyes and into nothingness. My mind is too preoccupied with Alex to focus on a book.
Just as I’m about ready to close the book and give up ever being even remotely like my friend Mariah, the doorbell rings.
The moment I hear the ding-dong through the house, my heart flutters into my mouth. My heartbeats sink into my tongue, where they become surround sound. I get up and rush to the door before Dad has even moved out of the den to investigate.
As the b
ell is about to ring a second time, I pull open the door. When I see who’s standing on the doorstep, I squeal quietly and immediately run out to hold him. To kiss him. Which he lets me do, without needing permission.
“Alex!” I bury my face in his broad shoulder, muffling the sound of my tears. “I can’t believe you’re here! I’m so glad you are!” I pull myself away from him. “How did you get here?” I wipe at my eyes. “I didn’t leave you with anything!”
To all my tears, Alex just smiles. There’s something in his eyes that lets me know he hasn’t been cool or confident this whole time, the way he wants me to believe. “My brother did,” he says, holding up his phone. “He gave me your address. Once I had it, I came straight here.”
Alex holds me. Kisses me underneath both eyes, drinking away my tears. my pain. “Listen, baby girl, you are the last thing I thought would happen to me this weekend.”
With these words, I see a shine to his eyes. “When I decided to take a trip to Aspen, it was originally just for my brother. To get his mind off his ex.” Here, he lowers his eyes. I know why. I can picture the skinny blonde as clearly as he can. “But then I met you, and you changed my whole world.” He raises his eyes takes my hands. “After those couple days of bliss with you, I don’t think I can live my life without you in it, Jane.” He leans in, kissing me lightly on the mouth. “I know I can’t.”
“Then you don’t have to, Alex,” I say, pulling him toward the warmth of the house. Toward the still partially-open door. “You’ve changed my whole world, too.” I kiss him on the lips but add a little tongue. “I love you with all my heart, Alex. I want you to stay with me forever. I never want to be apart, no matter how old we get.”
Just then — just as Alex looks like he’s about to say the same thing back — his eyes widen. He steps back from me. “Merry Christmas, Sir,” he says. “I was talking with…”
“My daughter, I can see that,” my dad booms. It’s not a mean or scary tone. Just commanding in the face of what I’m sure is confusing for him. “Who are you and how did you end up on my front porch like a lost puppy?”
I turn to my father, taking Alex’s hand in mine. “This is Alex, Dad.” I stop, realizing I can’t tell my dad where we met. No matter how polite Alex is, Dad isn’t going to like him if he finds out we met at some super-secret club. “I forgot to tell you earlier, but he’s my boyfriend. From college,” I add, knowing that it will still sound bad, but not as bad. And that’s all that matters at the moment.
Dad drags me inside, holding open the door for Alex. “Oh, so you’re the reason her grades are so bad this semester, eh?”
Alex steps into the foyer, looking unsure. A new look for him. “Maybe?”
“I’d bet my yacht on it,” Dad concludes, closing the door tightly behind us. When he turns around, Alex has his hand held out, ready to shake.
“I’ll try to teach her some better study habits,” he says. As Dad clasps his hand and gives it one firm shake, he looks at me and winks. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Sir.”
“I’m sure it is. Just make sure you never make my princess cry, and it’ll continue to be a pleasure for you.”
I blush, still thinking about how Alex might “teach me” those study habits he just promised my father. Briefly, my mind wanders to the fantasy I had of him having sex with me dressed as a schoolgirl. At the time I imagined it, it seemed all but impossible. Only a fantasy. But now it’s a very real, very sexy, possibility.
My father walks on to another part of the house. Probably to his fancy liquor cabinet in the dining room.
He hasn’t been gone long before I hear a sound I usually hate more than anything: the sound of Dad’s cell phone ringing. I hear him answer, murmur a few words and then hang up.
When he comes walking toward the foyer again, he’s got his business jacket in hand, and his briefcase.
“That was the damn office,” he mutters. “Apparently they need me right now. On Christmas Day of all days.” He leans in and kisses me. He gives Alex a warning glare. “I won’t be back until tomorrow morning, so you better take good care of her, and no wild parties.”
“No worries, Sir,” says Alex, rolling out all the stops and all the nobility and trustworthiness he can muster. “I’ll take good care of her. No wild parties.” He glances at me, the glance seeming to say, “Wild sex maybe. But no wild parties.”
After that, it’s the longest, most bittersweet minute I’ve ever spent waiting for my dad to leave. For the first time in my life, I’m happy to see him pull out of our large circular driveway and onto the street.
It means Alex can get right to “taking care” of me.
Epilogue
Alex
After Jane’s father leaves us, and we shut and lock the front door, I immediately ask Jane to show me to her bedroom.
She does, practically dragging me with her. It’s upstairs in what is basically an entire living space all to herself, not just a bedroom. There is a kitchen and living room the moment you get up the stairs. But Jane takes me to the door with her name on it near one corner of the big living area.
She opens it, and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the scent of strawberry. Of creamy, sugary shampoo and lotion. Her bedroom is as big and beautiful as she is. A princess’ mini Castle in her father’s larger estate.
“My dad said for you to take care of me,” she says seriously. “So how exactly do you want to do that?” She twirls around with these words, the serious lines in her face a new kind of beauty to her already-gorgeous face.
At first, I’m not sure what I want her to do. All I know is that I want her naked, and I want her under my complete control again. Then I see the large canopy bed with four tall and sturdy posts. Yes, I think, eyeing the fluffy comforters and sea of pillows, this will all work nicely.
I bring my eyes back to Jane. “I want you to masturbate for me. Right on your obnoxiously-big bed.” I smile, watching flames of desire climb up from her throat to her cheeks. “And then I’m going to tie you to that obnoxiously-big bed and give you a good fucking.”
Jane waits eagerly for me to give her the command to strip.
I do, but I tell her to do it on the bed, not on the floor.
As fast as her legs can carry her, Jane climbs onto her bed and climbs out of her clothes.
When she’s naked on her bed, I ask her to kneel for me.
She does, and that’s when I give her the command to masturbate. “Put your fingers down there and get to work,” I say. “I want you nice and wet before I put my cock in you.”
Sexily, Jane brings a hand down past her flat stomach, curvy hips, and to her pussy. Once there, she immediately begins to finger herself. Touch and stroke her clit, lips, and hood. I watch her, completely transfixed for a few moments.
It’s only when she starts to moan, and I hear the telltale “sloshing” sound of her juices flowing, that I tell her exactly what I’m going to do to her. “I’m going to put your nipples in something again. Maybe those hairclips,” I say, bringing her eyes to the surface of her vanity, where I can see a few hairclips and barrettes.
Jane wiggles her fingers a little quicker, staring at the clips. I give her permission to pinch her nipples, and she does.
A beautifully sharp moan follows, and I tell her the next thing I have planned. “I’m gonna use those silk ribbons to tie you to the bed posts,” I say, bringing her attention to the ribbons she has stuffed behind the pull-away mirror on the vanity. “And then I might just decide to use that hairbrush as a paddle,” I add, seeing how much harder she’s rubbing now. Breathless pants spill for her lips.
“Are you going to spank me hard?” Jane’s voice is breezy. Barely there.
“I will if you come before I say you can,” I warn. “Do you want a spanking?”
When she touches for one second too long, I stroll over to her vanity and grab the hairbrush. It’s got a nice wide rectangular back. Perfect for punishments. I make my way over to the bed, and turn her ov
er, before she can even get her hand all the way out of her pussy.
I swat her very hard once on her smooth, snowy-white ass. She cries out, but I can tell she likes it. The cry is almost too happy. It should deserve another swat, but I let it slide. Her hand is out of her pussy, so she’s back to behaving.
“Just for that, you’re gonna get tied up right now,” I say, flipping her over. I then bring her up to the pillow and headboard, before leaving to grab my ribbons of justice from her vanity. “And then you’re gonna get fucked in that greedy pussy of yours.” Saying these words, I’ve begun to tie her wrists to one post, then the other. I wander away from her again, grabbing the handful of hairpins I plan to use on her. “And you won’t get to come until I’m good and finished.” I choose the biggest, most flexible hairpins, and pin them on to her nipples.
Jane yips at the sensation but doesn’t pull away. I caress the bulged-out pink tips softly. “Good.” I then return to my job of tying her feet to the remaining two posts. Something I do quickly and efficiently, before unzipping the fly on my pants and revealing my hot and ready cock.
I climb up onto the mattress using the foot of the bed. I walk toward her on my knees, fishing for another condom. Thankfully, I find one more in the same back pocket I had the other. I take it out of its wrapping and put it on. I then slap her pussy and thighs with my rubber-coated dick.
Jane moans under this attention.
“Oh, you like that, do you, baby girl?” I ask, sliding two fingers in my mouth and loading them with saliva, “well, then you’re really going to love this.” I stick my fingers straight in her ass and pump. Jiggling as hard and fast as I can.
Jane gasps. Giggles with surprise and pleasure. And that’s when I reward her with another mouthful of goodness. Without pausing, or any plans to go slowly, I stick the length of my cock in her. It slides in like butter on a hot bagel. The silky heat of it, of her lips as they grip the base of me, is enough to make me gasp. And I never gasp.
Sold as a Domme on Valentine's Day Page 24
