by M. S. Parker
The explosion rocked my body and I tightened around Cade. I heard him swear and his hips jerked, but all that was in the background. My body shook and arched before slumping against his chest. My overly sensitive nipples rubbed against his shirt and the extra sensation made me come again, a ripple effect of pleasure as my nerves still hummed from the previous wave.
When I started to come back to myself, I was surprised to find I was still on Cade's lap. I don't know why, but a part of me had fully expected him to push me off of him as soon as he regained his strength. Instead, he had his arms around me. As soon as I moved, however, he let me go and I sat up.
I winced as I climbed off of him. Whatever place deep inside he'd reached, there was an ache there now, mingling with what I had in my legs and pussy already. I had a feeling that tomorrow, I was going to regret agreeing to a Sunday meeting. I'd be feeling him for at least a day.
“I'll tell you this,” Cade said as he removed the condom and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. “You can definitely forget about being bad in bed as a reason why your ex left. You're a natural.”
I blushed, conflicted by the statement. Did being a natural mean I was some sort of slut?
“Aubree,” Cade said my name. “It's a compliment. You have a natural instinct for sex. It's not something that can be taught. You just need some polish. And confidence.” He pushed himself into a sitting position and tucked his now soft cock back into his pants. “When I'm done with you, no man will be able to refuse you.”
That all sounded good, I thought. And I definitely wasn't going to say no to more sessions with Cade, especially not with Adelle footing the bill. In a short amount of time, he was tapping into parts of me that I'd hidden from everyone, even myself to some extent. No matter his methods, he was doing what I wanted him to do. He was helping me become who I wanted to be.
Chapter 7
My session with Cade stuck with me into the beginning of the week. Part of it was the sex, the amazing sensation of him inside me, the pleasure of him filling me. Part of it was the memory of his eyes on me, his voice telling me what to do. But, what I found myself thinking about most of the time was how easily he'd been able to figure me out. He'd understood my insecurities, spotted kinks I'd barely acknowledged myself. I knew I wasn't easy to read since no one else in my life had seen those things before. He'd told me that this was what made him so good at what he did, knowing what women wanted and needed, but I couldn't help wondering if he was this accurate with everyone.
More than once, I told myself to let it go, to not read anything into it. This, I knew, was another lesson I needed to learn, and knew Cade would be the perfect teacher. I still believed in love, but I didn't want to equate sex with emotion all the time. I wanted to be able to have casual sex when I had an itch to scratch. I wanted to protect my heart until I found someone I could trust it with. To do this, I needed to learn how to separate physical pleasure from emotional intimacy. I refused to accept that I might just be wired that way. I had to be able to learn how to do it, and Cade was the perfect person to teach me.
The problem was, no matter how much I told myself to focus only on the physical attraction, I found myself drawn to him. I wanted to ask him personal questions, get to know him. There was someone very complex beneath the surface and I couldn't stop thinking about him. It was a bad idea to even entertain the thought. I considered this my own personal lesson. If I could keep having mind-blowing sex with Cade and not give in to my misplaced desire to explore a personal relationship, I could do anything.
During lunch on Wednesday afternoon, I was surprised to see a text from Cade. It was brief but still made things low in my stomach heat up.
Date Friday evening. I'll pick you up at your place at 7. Wear something elegant. No teacher clothes.
I immediately sent back a confirmation that I'd be ready at seven. It wasn't until the end of the day, when Mindy stopped by so we could walk to our cars together, that I realized by going with Cade meant I'd miss Friday dinner with my friends. I knew I should text him and reschedule. The only time any of us ever missed was if we were sick or out of town. The one I'd skipped after being stood up had been the first time I missed one of our dinners since a bad bout of bronchitis four years ago. We never scheduled dates on Friday nights, unless it was late and we weren't going out together afterwards.
“You know,” Mindy said as we braved the early October wind. “I was talking to Stanley Worthington, the guy who's subbing for Patrice while she's on maternity leave, and, apparently, he's not gay. And I know what you're thinking, but thirty-seven isn't that much older than you...”
“Thanks, Mindy,” I interrupted, determination making my tone a bit sharper than I intended. Making the decision was easier than I thought it would be. “But I already have a date this weekend. Friday night, actually, so I won't be at dinner.”
Mindy looked startled, and even a bit hurt, but I didn't apologize. This was exactly why I was going to Cade in the first place. I needed my friends to know that I could get a date on my own. I wasn’t their charity case. A part of me knew I was being too harsh, but after all of the shit that had happened since August, I was tired of being nice all the time.
“Oh.”
An awkward silence fell between the two of us and I sighed. “Look, Mindy, I appreciate what you've been trying to do, but I need you to back off. I'm perfectly capable of deciding who I want to go out with.”
She nodded. “I'm sorry. I've just been worried about you.”
“I know,” I said, softening. “But I'm fine. Really.”
She gave me a skeptical look, but didn't press the issue. “I won't do it again.”
At least, with her, I knew I could count on what she said. Mindy had great self-control when it came to those types of promises. She wasn't like Adelle, who let her emotions take control. Mindy would take me at my word. With Adelle, I'd have to prove it, and with Cade, I would.
I spent the rest of the week eagerly anticipating my Friday night with Cade. I wondered what he had planned. Another tryst in a hotel? What new orders would he give me? Would he touch me this time? The only problem with these thoughts were they sometimes popped up at the most inopportune times. Like when I was lecturing on the symbolism in Paradise Lost.
When the final bell rang on Friday, I was as eager to leave as my students. I'd spent all of last evening scouring thrift stores for the perfect dress and had almost given up when I'd finally found it. It was the perfect shade of deep blue to complemented both my eyes and my skin tone. It clung to my body and was low-cut enough to show off what little cleavage I had but not so low it was sleazy. Unlike the dresses I'd worn before, this one was floor-length, making me look even taller than I was, especially once I put on my heels. A slit up my right leg, however, showed up to mid-thigh.
Then there was the fact that I'd followed Cade's instructions regarding... grooming. I'd gotten myself one of those home waxing kits and used it last night. The experience wasn’t one I looked forward to repeating, but I had to admit that the sensation of my freshly waxed skin against the soft cotton of my panties was definitely something I could get used to. That, plus imagining the expression on Cade's face when he saw my bare pussy was enough to keep me uncomfortably moist nearly the entire day.
As soon as I got back to my apartment, I ate a quick meal and then headed for the shower. I took my time, lingering in a way I hadn't done since the morning of my wedding. I knew this wasn't a real date, but I liked the way Cade looked at me, how his eyes got dark when he was turned on. I liked being responsible for that.
By the time I was finished with my make-up it was almost six-thirty and time slowed to a crawl. My mind was racing with the possibilities of tonight. What kind of encounter with someone like Cade would require an elegant dress? Were we going out to eat first? It seemed too much like a date. And this wasn't about teaching me how to date. I could carry on an intelligent conversation over a meal once the initial contact was made. I knew how to do that
quite well. Most of the help I needed wasn't outside the bedroom.
My face flushed. My previous encounter with Cade hadn't exactly been inside the bedroom. Was that what he was going to do tonight? Push my boundaries by us having some sort of tryst in public? My stomach clenched at the idea of Cade and me in a janitor's closet or a bathroom, desperately pulling at each other's clothes, eager to get off before someone caught us...
A knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts. I hurried to open it, my mouth already opening to offer a greeting. The words died in my mouth at the sight of Cade in a tux. He'd looked good in the suit he'd worn on our 'date,' and I was pretty sure he could pull off any outfit he wanted, but there was something about how a man wore a well-tailored tux. And Cade most certainly wore it well.
“Definitely not a schoolteacher dress.”
I raised my eyes to see Cade smiling at me. A flush of heat spread across my skin, and it wasn't from embarrassment.
He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
I slid my hand into his and told myself that the tingle of pleasure going through me was acceptable. After all, Cade had said himself that physical attraction and enjoyment were part of his work.
“Why'd you pick me up instead of having me meet you at the hotel?” I asked, wording the question in such a way that it didn't sound like I was fishing for information on where we were going.
He wasn't fooled. “Because we're not going to a hotel.” He glanced at me. “It's a surprise.”
Knowing he was trying to surprise me caught me off guard. That sounded more like something a boyfriend would do. I kept my thoughts to myself though. I didn't want him to think I was thinking of him like a boyfriend. I wasn't. At all. It was just an observation and made me even more curious.
A town car sat at the curb in front of my building, looking distinctly out of place in this neighborhood. Cade opened the door for me and I slid in, conscious of the way the slit exposed quite a bit of leg before I gathered the fabric and pulled it back into place.
“You have lovely legs,” Cade said. He closed the door before I could respond and walked around to the other side.
“Thank you,” I mumbled as he sat next to me.
“You don't take compliments well, do you?” He brushed a curl off of my cheek as the car started forward.
I shook my head.
“Then that's one of the issues we'll have to work on. Modesty and gratitude are appreciated, but confidence when accepting a compliment is also attractive.” He settled back in the seat, his body not touching mine, but close enough I could almost feel it. “Pay me a compliment.”
“What?” I was startled by the request.
“Pay me a compliment.” He winked. “Tell me I'm pretty.”
“You're pretty.” I blurted out the words, then flushed. “I mean – I – oh shit.”
He laughed, a genuine laugh that soothed my embarrassment. There was nothing false about his amusement. “I suppose I asked for that.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I just wanted to demonstrate a way to accept a compliment without getting flustered.”
“Easy for you,” I muttered, looking down. “Nothing throws you off.”
“You do,” he admitted.
My head jerked up.
“You're not like the other women I see,” he said. “It's refreshing.” His eyes twinkled. “And entertaining.”
“Glad to know I amuse you,” I said dryly.
“I just meant that it's rare someone can surprise me, and yet you manage to do it.” He paused for a moment and I watched the professional mask slide back into place. “We're almost there. We'll work on compliments more later.”
“Almost where?” I asked.
“Pritchard's Art Galleria.”
Okay, definitely not what I'd expected. Maybe it was some sort of erotic art. I could see Cade thinking it was 'entertaining' to take me into a place full of nude or sexual photography or artwork. Trying to shock me seemed like something he'd want to do. I told myself that no matter what I saw in there, I wouldn't get embarrassed.
“The owner's a friend of mine,” Cade said. “And tonight's the opening for a promising new artist Alejandro is particularly fond of.”
I nodded. When the car stopped, Cade got out first and stretched out his hand to help me from the car. As I straightened, he wrapped my arm around his. I tried not to focus on his warmth but rather on the gallery in front of me. It was all glass and metal, but done in unique designs that weren't like any sort of standard architecture. I liked it.
Other well-dressed people were heading for the entrance all around us and I couldn't help but wonder how many of these women had purchased Cade's services before. How many knew what he was, and by connection, why he was here with me? My stomach lurched as I thought of how they'd look at me, thinking the only way I could get a man was to pay for it.
“What's wrong?” Cade whispered. “You were fine a minute ago, but now you're stiff and tense.”
Damn him and his annoying habit of being observant. I decided honesty was better than trying to deny that I was bothered. “Have any of these women hired you?”
If he was surprised by how blunt I was, he didn't show it, and he didn't seem offended that I'd asked. Instead, he scanned the crowd before answering. “I see two previous clients.” He glanced down at me. I watched as first understanding, then something darker, moved across his features. Neither one stayed long. “You're ashamed to be here with me.” It was a statement. Flat and without any indication as to the emotions behind it.
I lifted my chin. “This isn't exactly the kind of thing I want advertised.” I felt his fingers tighten on my arm, just a fraction but enough to convey that what I'd said upset him. “Cade, it's not...”
“One of those women is here with her husband, who I doubt knows she hired me. The other is here with someone else like me.” There was an edge to the last two words. “Neither one will say a word, and they can't very well look down on you because they were in your same position.” His mouth curved into a humorless smile. “Or a variety of other positions.”
An awkward silence fell between us as he led me into the gallery. We passed a waiter with a tray of champagne glasses and each took one. I drank half of mine at once and a glance at Cade told me he'd drained his and taken another. All of the positive anticipation I'd felt going into this evening had faded. I knew what I'd said had been horrible, no matter how I felt. And that itself was wrong too. How could I look down on Cade for what he did for a living? Was I really so awful of a person that I'd judge someone like him when I was the one paying for his services?
We stopped at the far end of the gallery. Most everyone else was crowded up front and the way the space was set up, we were hidden between a large sculpture and a wall that held a pair of paintings on either side. I turned to face Cade, but he kept his eyes on the painting behind me. I reached up and put my hands on his face, turning his head until he was looking down at me. I surprised myself with my boldness, but it was something that had to be done. He'd never done anything to hurt me and I'd treated him like shit. He didn't deserve it. He was a good man, no matter what he did to make money.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “It's how I was raised, and that's not an excuse. It's just sometimes hard to shake off your childhood, you know?”
He nodded. “I know.” His arms slid around my waist and my hands shifted to behind his neck. “And I'm used to the comments.”
“That doesn't mean what I said was right.” I pulled myself closer to him, feeling the heat from his body against mine. “I really am sorry.”
“Thank you for apologizing. No one's ever apologized before.” He bent his head and pressed his lips against mine.
It was a simple kiss, a chaste one, but I felt the warmth from it straight down to my toes. Then he released me and took a step back. His hand reached for mine and he laced our fingers together. He turned his attention back to the painting and gestured at it, drawing my attention to it as well.
“Wow,” I breathed. It was beautiful landscape, not one of those abstract paintings I never really understood.
“I understand why he likes it so much,” Cade continued. “The artist managed to capture the juxtaposition between the beauty of the dying world at autumn and the new beginnings found at the start of the day.”
I looked up at him, puzzled. “Okay, I have to ask. What are we doing here? I thought you were supposed to teach me about... you know.” I glanced around to see if anyone was close enough to hear us. “Sex.”
“Aubree, if you can't say the word, you shouldn't be doing it.” His tone was mild. “That actually goes for pretty much anything when it comes to sex.” He gave me a sideways look, something wicked glinting in his eyes. “If you can't ask me to fuck you or tell me you want me to spank you...”
“Cade!” I hissed, yanking my hand away from his. “We're in public.”
He laughed. “Relax. No one's around.” He took my hand again.
I scowled at him. “So why are we here then?” I went back to my original question.
“Part of your lesson is appreciating beauty.”
“I appreciate beauty,” I snapped. I didn't like how smug he sounded when he said it, like we were in some twisted, NC-17 version of My Fair Lady.
He led me around the wall to stand next to a sculpture. “What do you see when you look at this?”
I studied the figure in front of me. It was a man and a woman, carved from stone that I assumed was marble. She was nude, her hands partially covering her breasts, her legs twisted just right to still be considered modest. The man was also nude, but his hands were on her shoulders, his legs planted shoulder width apart so that everything was exposed.
“I'm not a prude when it comes to art, Cade,” I said.
