The Very Bad Fairgoods - Their Ruthless Bad Boys

by Theodora Taylor

  “What were you expecting?” he asks with another smile tugging at his lips.

  I look down at our joined hands for a long time before answering, “Not this.”

  “But you liked it. You like what we just did.”

  The way he dips his chin to make my eyes meet his leaves me wondering if he’s telling me or asking me. Either way, it’s not the sort of question/statement I’m able to answer with words. So I settle for clamping my lips together and nodding.

  Then I immediately look away from him again, my face now the opposite of hot. In fact, my entire body has iced over with the kind of cold shame that the afghan just can’t reach.

  “But I’m still not sure why I didn’t use the safe word,” I admit, my voice quiet as a whisper.

  “I’m glad you didn’t.” I can feel his blue gaze on me again. Watching me refuse to meet his eyes.

  I’m glad, too. I’ve never come like that before. I never even knew it was possible to come that hard. Colin, for all his strangeness and confidentiality contracts, is hands down the best I’ve ever had.

  But it feels too weird to admit this to him. So instead I say, “Property taxes.”

  Colin’s entire body goes stiff. He lets go of my hand and stands, moving all the way to other side of the room, coming to stop next to where my leggings are lying on the floor in front of the fireplace.

  For what feels like a century and a half, the only sound in the cabin is the wood crackling in the fireplace. Even the rain has stopped now, I realize, as I wait for Colin to say something. Anything.

  But he doesn’t. Just stands there like a soldier awaiting orders. Shadow and light playing across his now harsh expression.

  This is not how I expected using the safe word to go. I don’t feel powerful, or even like I’ve regained the upper hand. Instead a weird, desperate itch pops off inside my chest area, like I’ve lost something.

  “I… I just wanted to see if it would really work,” I finally admit to him.

  I don’t invite him to come back, but I guess he doesn’t need a formal invitation, because he sits right back down across from me on the couch. This time, though, his hand wraps around the ankle of my folded leg.

  His grip is a band of steel, allowing me no illusions about who he’s addressing, though he stares at the fire as he says, “I told myself before I came here, that if you used the safe word, we were done. This is over and we go our separate ways. I’m generous with my people, Purple, but when it comes to this kind of thing, I’m a stingy bastard, and I’m never looking to pay anybody’s therapy bills.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Okay, noted,” I say, trying to take my leg back.

  But his hand tightens even further around my ankle as his blue gaze finds mine in the firelight. “You got your answer about the safe word working. I don’t want to hear it out of your mouth again.”

  He’s become hard again. Or maybe that’s just something I’m imagining, because I can feel myself starting to throb below. My body responding to his command in a way it really, really shouldn’t.

  “I might use it again,” I tell him, forcing myself not to look away this time.

  “No, you won’t,” he says. His voice is soft but somehow more menacing than if he’d shouted the words.

  He suddenly moves forward and I brace myself, expecting him to attack. But instead he lies down with me on the couch, tossing the afghan aside and arranging our bodies so I’m half on top of him, one leg bent over both of his. I was right about him having become hard again during our safe word conversation. I can feel his length underneath the soft flesh of my naked thigh, like a pulsing animal behind his jeans.

  He tucks my head into his shoulder and says, “When we wake up, I’m going to fuck you again, Purple, but this time I’m going to make you submit to me.” His voice is matter of fact, like he’s simply going over our agenda for the next day, but his words… his words stop my heart with a fear unlike any I’ve ever known.

  He continues on, his voice a honeyed Alabama drawl in my ear. “And by the time I’m through, there will be no doubt in either of our minds who your pussy belongs to.”

  For a while we lie like this, the fire crackling, the last remnants of the storm rolling in, rain drops on the rusty tin roof. Despite the afghan being tossed aside, I no longer feel cold. Despite what just happened, I can feel myself relaxing, my heart rate coming down, as Colin holds me close in his arms. Despite what he just said to me, I soon fall asleep, his dark promise radiating through my body.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Of course I come to my senses a few hours later when I wake up alone on the couch, cold and shivering, because now, instead of Colin, there’s only the afghan and it’s not doing near a good enough job. The fire, I notice soon after opening my eyes, has died out.

  One of the kitchen lights is still on and I use its dim glow to find my leggings, which are still lying where Colin tossed them. I pull them on, but they’re not as much help as you would think. The fabric is cold and stiff now, thanks to its time on the floor, and my sweater is still a little damp. Plus, the cabin is freezing. I don’t feel much warmer as my eyes search the dark room.

  I find him asleep in the brass rail bed, his long body covered by what looks like a much warmer quilt.

  He couldn’t even sleep with me, I think, my stomach filling up with self-disgust. The warm feelings I’d fallen asleep with are now replaced with one I remember well from my time with Mike Lancer. Stupidity. As in “how could you have been so stupid?”

  I search the main room for the rest of my things. Finding my shoes is easy. Both are within five feet of where I found the leggings, though in opposite directions. And my purse is still where I placed it, on the side table next to the door. I walk out the door with my keys in hand less than a minute later.

  It’s even colder outside. Pitch black without the lights from the cabin. My old Beemer is little more than a large shadow in the cabin’s small front clearing.

  I cuss at myself again as I make my way toward it, and come up with a grip of extreme ways to tell Josie that the deal with me being Colin’s “friend” is off when she gets home in a couple days—

  Suddenly, I’m slammed into the side of my car, my arm twisted behind my back so I drop my keys.

  I hear them hit the ground with a metal clang as a voice behind me asks, “Where do you think you’re taking my pussy, Purple?”

  His hold on me is damn near immobilizing. But it doesn’t hurt. I once again thinking of bulky male nurses in insane asylums called in to deal with patients without hurting them. So no, it doesn’t hurt, but it does piss me off.

  “I’m taking my pussy out of here, to some place warm and away from you,” I answer.

  “Is that why you snuck out? Because it was too cold in there for you?” he sneers in my ear.

  Also, because I was feeling abandoned after being left on the couch, but that doesn’t exactly feel like the right answer for this situation. Because what kind of stupid girl would have expected a full on cuddling session after the kind of sex Colin and I had earlier in the night?

  “I’m going home,” I tell him. I use the same firm voice I use on my clients when they get unruly. “Let me go.”

  He does let me go, and the removal of his immobilizing pressure comes as a relief. For a second. Then the world spins upside down as Colin heads back to the house with me in a fireman carry.

  “Are you kidding me?” I yell, kicking and clawing at his back as he carries me back inside. “Put me down!”

  This is another order he only sort of obeys. Throwing me onto the rail bed like a sack of potatoes isn’t exactly what I had in mind. Or him stripping my clothes off like a rag doll.

  He releases me when I’m butt naked, but before I can scramble into a sitting position, he puts his knee in my chest, exerting just enough pressure to keep me down as he grabs one of my arms.

  “I didn’t think you were going make me tie you up this soon. Thought maybe I’d give you some time to
rest. But you’re full of surprises tonight, ain’t you, Purple?”

  A length of hard, unforgiving rope wraps around one wrist, and suddenly I’m unable to move my arm more than a few inches past my shoulder. I tug on it, but Colin just laughs.

  “You ain’t getting out of this one, Purple. My father used to make me visit him up here every summer, and he wasn’t just a recreational hunter. He almost never could keep a job too long, so hunting’s how he put food on the table. Best believe he taught me how to tie a knot.”

  I continue to struggle against my one bind, reaching over with my other hand to try to undo it. My persistence only makes that mean smile of his come back in full force.

  “Tell you what, let’s make this fun. I’ll only tie one hand. Let you have both your legs and your other hand as long as you don’t break my rules. But the minute you do, I tie something else down. Got it?”

  What rules? I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to play your stupid game.”

  “Let’s see what we’ve got going on down here…” he says like he didn’t even hear my protest. He removes his knee from my chest, and I feel thick fingers scan down my body, stopping at the slit between my legs.

  If I didn’t already know, the smile that spread across his moonlit face would have told me what he found. I’m wet, completely slick with desire before he’s even really touched me anywhere intimate.

  He makes a sound, halfway between a grunt and growl.

  “I see you’re going to make training hard for me, Purple. But I’m not going to let you win this time. This time, you don’t get off until you tell me whose pussy this is. You ready to say this is my pussy yet?”

  I shake my head, spitting mad. “Like I’d ever say that, you asshole! This isn’t a porn video.”

  To prove my point, I reach down with my free hand and push at his wrist, trying to pull his fingers out of me. Trying to prove to him and myself that this might be something that gets me off, but it’s not something I need.

  But Colin’s fingers keep on working as if my restraining hand is nothing, and I become slicker and slicker with desire, until I can no longer force myself to fight him. Until I can feel an orgasm building inside of me, making me too weak to fight the rising pleasure.

  My hand falls away from his wrist as my back arches in preparation for the flood… but it never comes. Colin abruptly pulls his fingers away.

  “You can touch your breasts,” he says with the detachment of a doctor, only stating facts. “But not your pussy. Only I get to touch that, Purple, because it belongs to me. Those are the rules.”

  Those are the rules. For a moment, I lie there in shocked disbelief. So this is his idea of punishment? Not finishing the job, and leaving me wanting more?

  I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes, because if that’s all he’s planning to do to me, he should talk to a few of the guys I’ve dated over the years, including Mike. Not making a girl come isn’t exactly a special skill. Or all that terrible of a punishment.

  In fact, the disappointment that sets in as my body begins to cool down is totally familiar. My breasts eventually deflate, but my nipples stay hard because it’s so freaking cold.

  “If this is how I’m going to sleep, may I have a blanket?” I ask him.

  He arches an eyebrow. “You cold?” he asks me.

  “Yes,” I answer. “Don’t drop dead of shock, but your dad’s crappy unheated cabin is freezing.”

  “Sorry about that, Purple. Let me warm you up.”

  This time he uses his mouth on me, tongue fucking my pussy like a man on a mission. And he’s right, it does warm me up. I forget all about the cold, and soon I’m squirming and groaning on the bed, a woman possessed by her need to come. My hand bunches in his hair, giving him silent permission to delve his tongue deeper and deeper inside of me.

  I’m so close. So close… and then he stops, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like he’s just eaten a very messy meal.

  “My pussy tastes good,” he tells me, like he’s reviewing a restaurant. “But tomorrow, I’m going to go into town. Get us a razor. I want to see how wet you get for me.”

  This time, coming down isn’t quite so easy. I’m not just disappointed, I’m angry, verging on despondent.

  My clit is so engorged now, I can feel it between my swollen lips, needy and aching, needing relief so bad, it’s painful.

  I reach down and touch myself without even thinking about what I’m doing. But I only get in a few rubs, before my hand is caught and slammed down on my side.

  “I warned you,” comes Colin’s voice, sinister and dark. And before I realize what’s happened, another length of course rope slides around my left ankle.

  Because my right hand is also tied up, securing my left leg puts me in an obscene position. I can no longer bring up both of my knees or turn over on my side. And when I do try to kick at my leg restraint, it spreads my pussy wider. Leaving me completely exposed to Colin’s blue gaze.

  I’m panting, and I can feel a layer of sweat sheening my body, making me even colder when I finally cool down again. Making me shiver.

  “You cold again?” he asks me.

  I shake my head. “No,” I lie quickly.

  “You’re lying to me, Purple, and you know I got some trust issues going on, right? I can’t abide liars, so I’m going to have to make you pay for that.”

  His hand comes down on my thigh, large and warm, and completely sinister. “It’s funny you brought up porn. You watch a lot of it?”

  “No,” I grit out between clenched teeth. I can feel my pussy waking back up and contracting with just the thought of him touching me again. “Do you?”

  “As a matter of fact I don’t,” he answers. I can hear the easygoing grin in his voice, and except for the fact that I’m completely naked and tied up like a virgin sacrifice, it’s like we’re having a friendly chat. “But you know what? I do like the few things I’ve seen, because they’re a real good teaching tool for a guy like me, in a situation like this.”

  His hands find my waist in the darkness, his fingertips running down my sides in a dark caress until they stop just above my hip bones.

  “You see, Purple, most porn is designed by men for men. So its based on all the things that would get a man off, not what would get a real live woman who wasn’t getting paid to be there off.”

  “For example, if I fucked this pussy of mine the way I wanted to, then you’d definitely get off, no problem. Me too.” Strong hands lift my hips, and I cry out with pleasure when Colin pushes into me, his dick thick and hard as a steal beam. “But luckily those porno guys have taught me a thing or two about how to fuck a woman without pleasuring her. This move right here. I could saw into you all night and I wouldn’t get anywhere near your clit. I could come in you as many times as I wanted and you still wouldn’t get any relief, all because you refused to say five little words.”

  As if to demonstrate his meaning, he saws into me a few times. He’s right. The action feels good, but it’s nowhere close to satisfying. And pretty soon it becomes downright frustrating.

  “Colin…” I say with more beg in my voice than I can help.

  He leans over, and pushes in once. Just once in a way that makes contact with my clit. But it’s enough to send a body-melting wave of pleasure through me. I whimper, wanting, needing more.

  “My pussy is yours, Colin,” I hear him say above me.

  I look up to see him watching me, moonlight illuminating his smug face. “That’s all you got to say, and then I’ll make sure you have a real nice time,

  Purple.”

  I bite my lip and shake my head. I have to settle for answering him this way, because I no longer trust myself not to scream out the five words if I open my mouth to curse him out again.

  “You sure about that?” he asks, pushing into my clit one more time. Sharp piercing pleasure knifes through me, leaves my skin electrified and begging for more… but I swallow down my lust, and shake my head.

 
And he suddenly pulls out of me in one abrupt jerk.

  “You’re making this harder than it needs to be, Purple,” he says.

  As soon as he pulls out, I reach down, and furiously start rubbing my own pussy. It’s not even a decision I remember consciously making. More like a life saving measure, because my body is on fire, screaming with need. But I cry out when my hand is grabbed and slammed against the mattress.

  I look up again and see Colin tying down my left hand. It must be even later than I thought, because the first hints of pre-dawn light are shining through the window. Making it so I can see the grim and angry look on his face as he loops the rope around my other wrist and ties it to the bed’s frame without a word.

  But he doesn’t have to say anything to me in this moment, because I can still hear him talking to me in the silence.

  Five words or two. Those are my only two choices. Five words go against everything I believe, everything I’ve ever known to be true about myself. But the other two are just as off-putting to me.

  Because if I say them, this—whatever this truly fucked up thing is—will be over. Colin will let me go, and it will be no better than getting myself off when I return home after an unsatisfying encounter with a lover. Because if I say “property taxes,” I know Colin will make good on his original promise and never touch me again. I know this, like I know when a client is going to make my life miserable from day one.

  This experience has been the most exquisite torture I’ve ever known, and I need it to mean something. Saying those two words now would be like getting out of an hour-long roller coaster line to use the bathroom right before it’s your turn to go on. Unthinkable.

  But the first choice… my heart panics at the thought of giving in. I’m a strong black woman. Stronger than most because I work in the health care industry. I can’t even begin to imagine myself saying something like that—

  A powerful wave of lust rolls over my body, so raw and blunt it lifts my hips off the bed and cramps my stomach with its urgent seeking.

  Colin pushes my body back into the mattress, one hand pressing into my hot, naked stomach. He’s sitting on the side of the bed now, and his eyes are nearly clouded with his own lust as he watches me.