by Andra Lake
“You didn’t get my text?”
“My phone was in my purse. I literally got it when Michelle called for me.”
Michelle smiled. “Take off with your friends. I’ll lock up.”
When we got to Luke’s car, Sam told me to wait while they pulled out my housewarming gift. It was a beautiful wooden easel, exactly like the ones I’d always told Sam I wanted when I was using the cheap ones at school.
My eyes filled with tears and I covered my mouth.
“What’s up?” Sam asked, her face a mask of worry.
I shook my head, wiping my tears away. “I just feel like a bad friend. Here you’ve got me a gift and I haven’t been honest with you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked warily.
“I’ll wait in the car,” Luke said, walking away quickly.
Sam waited until he had slammed the door to ask, “What’s going on?”
“Okay, you have to promise not to tell your mom because you know she’ll tell mine. Promise me?”
“You’re worrying me, Amy.”
“It’s not that bad, just promise me, okay?” When Sam nodded, I launched into the story. I told her about how Dallon had first appeared at my work after Jeremy told him I was at the Cat and Fiddle and we went for drinks. I told her he had appeared at my work again when I hadn’t answered his messages, and that I had ended up going to his place, where he made me dinner. I explained that he hadn’t wanted me to work at Mix and had suggested I save money by moving in with him. I then told her about what happened at my place and how he had negotiated my moving out with my landlord.
“So you’re living with him now?” Sam asked incredulously.
I nodded, an awkward smile on my face. If Dallon could meet Sam, he’d see that she was even more conservative than me. She was looking at me exactly the way I had expected she would.
“I was afraid you’d react like this,” I said softly. “It’s how my mom would react too.”
Sam’s face softened. “I don’t mean to be a mom about it, but I’m worried. How much do you know about this guy?”
I shrugged. “We’re closer than you’d expect considering the amount of time we’ve known each other.”
“Are you sleeping together?”
“No.” I paused. “Other things, yeah. But no sex.”
Sam nodded and then sighed heavily. “It’s cool I guess that he didn’t want you living at that place anymore. I didn’t want you living there either, so I can’t blame him.” She worried her lip a bit before continuing. “It just seems… quick. Intense.”
“I know.”
“How’s it going?”
I shrugged. “I’m kind of mad at him still so not that great. But it will get better, I’m sure,” I rushed to assure her.
“The way he went about it just seems so… controlling.”
I blanched. Trust Sam to hit the nail on the head. “He’s very protective.”
Sam sighed again and put her arm around me, led me toward the car again. “Don’t be afraid to tell me things, okay? I’m your best friend.”
I smiled gratefully. “Okay. And I’m sorry—I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.”
“I just want you to be careful.” She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Let me know if anything weird happens with him.”
“For sure,” I said, the guilty feeling returning because I knew I still wasn’t being entirely honest; I’d already protected Dallon’s secrets, and probably always would.
When we got into the car, Sam turned to Luke. “We’re going for dinner to celebrate. Amy moved in with Dallon King.”
Luke spun around in his seat to face me. “Whoa, Ames. I didn’t know you two are officially together.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at me, a small smile on her lips.
I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it just happened. As in yesterday.”
Luke rubbed his face before putting the car in drive. “I can see why he’s so successful. When Dallon King wants something, he moves fast.”
Chapter Fifteen
When I got home, Dallon’s door was still open and he was nowhere to be seen. It looked like he hadn’t come home yet. Maybe he decided to go in to work, even though it was a Sunday.
I made myself a snack, making a mental note that I should at least buy some groceries tomorrow. I ate it at the breakfast bar and then cleaned up after myself. It was after 11 p.m., and Dallon still wasn’t home. I went to my room at watch a movie and heard him come in long after midnight. He went directly to the kitchen and began fixing himself something to eat. Still sleepy, I tip-toed out of my room and into the hallway, stepping far enough forward that I could just see into the kitchen through the railing that lined the hallway of the upper floor. Through the bars, I watched as he grabbed a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter, his back to me. He’d pulled his dress shirt free from his pants, rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie. He was drinking his beer and looking out the window, apparently lost in his thoughts. When he stilled mid-sip as if suspecting he was being watched, I quickly ducked back into my room.
The next morning, it was the same thing: he was gone when I woke up, and I was in bed when he came home, in the early morning. He sent me a text asking if there was something wrong with my phone, but I didn’t reply.
On Tuesday, my last day of work, I went out for drinks with Michelle when our shift ended and got home around ten. Again Dallon wasn’t home, and I was slightly tipsy. I went straight upstairs to my room, but for some reason stopped outside the studio. I hadn’t been in it since the night we met.
I pulled open the double doors and stepped in. It looked just the same as it had the other night, but now I noticed a set of wardrobes on the wall opposite to the door. The first two were locked but the third opened easily. At first glance, it contained canvases stacked together and leaning against the back of the wardrobe, camera equipment on shelves, and storage boxes.
The first storage box contained camera lenses. When I opened the next box, I dropped it, and pictures scattered everywhere. I fell to my knees, desperately trying to scoop them up and put them back in the box. Some of the pictures were tasteful like the ones I’d let him keep, but others were beyond pornographic. It was obvious that Dallon King had a thing for taking pictures of women he slept with, both before the act and during.
“What are you doing?”
I froze, still holding a picture of a naked woman looking up at a camera, her legs spread. She was sitting up, her arms behind her in an awkward position, as if... bound.
I heard the floor creek as Dallon stepped into the room. My heart began to beat so loudly, I couldn’t hear his footsteps approach me. When two bare feet appeared in my vision, I gathered the courage to look up at him, and my breath caught.
If I’d thought he’d looked angry in my apartment, I was wrong. This was the angriest I’d ever seen him. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his eyes black.
“I didn’t mean to find them,” I said softly. “I wanted to know what was in the wardrobes.”
“And you thought my invitation to live in my guestroom was also an invitation to snoop through my home.”
He said it with such anger that I flinched. “No, I was just curious. About you.”
He cocked his head to the side, his face still hard. “And are you still curious?”
“No,” I whispered.
He crossed his arms and put a hand to his chin, his eyes still set on me and still furious. The shivers returned again, stretching down my back like icy fingers. “You’re on your knees.”
“I dropped the box and the photos went everywhere.”
“I can see that.”
“I was trying to put them away before…”
“Before I found out. I know.”
I swallowed. He was still staring at me. I returned to the photos, scooping them into the box, my hands shaking and my cheeks re
d. When I had them all back in the box, I moved to stand up.
“Stop.”
I froze, still in my kneeling position.
“I think we need to talk, and it’s easier like this. So you don’t freak out and take off.”
That was exactly what I had been planning to do.
He moved to stand in front of me. “Look at me,” he said sternly.
I peeked up at him nervously. How was it that I was the one feeling embarrassed when I’d just discovered his secret stash of porno pictures?
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
It sounded like a command. I was afraid of him—that was what I was thinking. I hadn’t had a chance to work through anything else.
“Be honest with me. Otherwise there’s no point.”
No point in what? I took a deep breath, afraid of what he might do if I broke eye contact. “When you said you’d taken pictures, I didn’t expect... this.”
“You thought I meant like the ones I took of you.”
“Yes.”
“And?” His eyes bore into me, daring me to say more. “Are you shocked? Angry? Frightened?”
When I didn’t respond, he nodded as if my silence had given him the answer. “When you snoop through people’s belongings, you might find they have skeletons in their closet.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looked down at me and his face softened. For a moment, I thought he might tell me I should be frightened and that I should leave. Instead, he crouched in front of me so that our faces were closer to being level.
“How many people have you had sex with, Amy?” he asked softly.
“One.”
“An old boyfriend?”
I nodded.
“And what was it like? Missionary and vanilla? Awkward and boring?”
I made a face like I didn’t want to talk about it with him, and he laughed. “What I’m trying to say is that sex isn’t always what they show you in the movies.”
I glared at him. “I know that! I know that people can be... kinky.”
His lips twitched, but he tried to hide it. The condescending gesture provided the anger I needed to voice what I really thought.
“What I’m worried about is that you don’t just like to control women, you like to dominate them.”
There, I’d said it without saying it. Dallon King wasn’t just into a few spankings in the bedroom; he was into full out bondage and domination. On top of that, he was into documenting the entire process and keeping photographic evidence like conquests.
He straightened to his full height. “You are correct, Amy,” he said with a slight shrug. “I do like to dominate women. It turns me on immensely.”
I swallowed. How could he be so nonchalant about it? Shouldn’t he be a tiny bit ashamed? I rubbed my arms. It suddenly felt chilly, like his anger had sucked out all the warmth in the room. My knees were sore on the wood, and I put my hands under them.
“You are in a very submissive position, Amy. Are you uncomfortable?”
“My knees are hurting.”
He didn’t respond, only continued to look at me as if waiting for something.
“May I stand up now?” I asked.
He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you may.”
I got to my feet quickly, and Dallon strode over to the studio doors and closed them. My heart began to race again; apparently he didn’t plan for us to leave. He turned a dial on the wall and the lights dimmed.
“Come here,” he said in a deceptively soft voice.
I hesitated for a moment and saw his eyes narrow. I went to him, afraid of angering him further or wanting to please him, I wasn’t sure. When I was close enough, he put a hand out and cupped my cheek.
“You weren’t meant to find those.”
My eyes darted to the door behind him.
He picked me up suddenly and carried me over to the bed, where he sat and stood me between his legs. Then his mouth was on mine. He smelled amazing, and I found myself returning his kiss, the memories of the photos slipping away as my heart began to race with excitement rather than fear. How was it that a simple kiss could make me forget all the images I’d seen? I should have bolted for the door when I’d had the chance.
He pulled of his shirt and then pulled mine off as well, dropping both on the floor.
“Take off the bra.”
I hesitated, but only for a second; his eyes told me that I didn’t want to refuse. Clumsily, I undid the clasp and placed the bra in his outstretched hand.
“You have beautiful breasts,” he murmured. He reached out with one hand and tugged at my nipple. It hardened instantly. Then he cupped my breasts with both hands, using his thumbs to gently massage my nipples while he spoke. My legs weakened, and I struggled to stay still in the standing position.
“You will not come into this room again unless accompanied by me, understood?” His voice was soothing, hypnotic.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly.
“Say you understand.”
“I understand.”
I was shaking slightly, from nerves or excitement, I didn’t know. He was looking into my eyes the way he had the other night in his bedroom, a slight hardness to his features. Now I knew what it meant: he was in dominant mode. But unlike the other night, I knew that this time he wasn’t going to stop himself.
“The things you do to me, Amy,” he whispered, trailing a finger from my navel to the waistband of my jeans. His voice was low, seductive. “You’re a natural in so many ways.”
He unbuttoned my pants, revealing a pink and white striped thong. His lips quirked up and then he put both hands under the waistband at the back, cupping my backside briefly before pulling my jeans and panties down at the same time.
“I started off with a look, thinking I knew what type of woman I was after, but you blew me away.”
He held me as I stepped out of them, and then pushed them aside with his foot, his eyes never leaving mine. I was standing naked in front of him for the first time, and my first instinct was to cover myself.
“Don’t hide from me,” he said softly. “You’re beautiful. You should never hide.”
He began kissing my neck, moving down to my breasts, his hands on my hips. Then he slipped a finger inside me, and I moaned involuntarily, reaching out to put my arms around him. He had one finger inside, his thumb circling my clitoris. Like the other night, all rational thought left me and I was only sensation, standing before Dallon moaning and no longer embarrassed.
“You’ve figured me out, Amy,” he whispered in my ear, “but I’ve figured you out too. Your body responds to me. You can’t pretend you’ve never fantasized about being dominated before.”
I didn’t speak, didn’t try to deny it, only laid my cheek against his shoulder as I struggled to keep standing. Dallon held me with one arm and stood, unbuckled his pants slowly. My eyes widened and he smirked, pulling himself out with one hand. With a flick of his eyes, he gestured to the floor, and I sank as if controlled my some invisible force.
“Have you done this before?”
I shook my head, my mouth dry.
“Look at me and don’t look away.”
I tilted my head up and our eyes locked.
“Put out your tongue.”
I obeyed, and he reached out and gently cupped my head with his one hand.
“Don’t look away from me.”
With his other hand, he tilted his penis down onto my tongue and moved it back and forth, back and forth, slowly. His mouth parted and I heard his breathing quicken. Then he gently pushed my head lower, and I took a ball into my mouth, sucking gently.
“Amy…” he said in a low voice that sounded somewhat surprised. He pulled back to look down at me again. His were almost black, his pupils completely dilated.
“Put your hands behind your back. Clasp them.”
I clasped my arms behind my back. I knew how I must look on my knees in front of him, and the idea excited me.
“It feels good,
doesn’t it, Amy?” he asked in a soft voice.
I didn’t respond, only continued looking up at him through my lashes, determined not to waver. Time passed slowly while he waited.
I licked my lips.
Dallon made a low noise and grasped a handful of my hair, making a makeshift ponytail. He pulled hard, tilting my head back—and then a pained look marred his beautiful features.
He released his hold abruptly and gathered me to him. In a second, I was lying on my back on the bed and he was above me, supporting himself on one arm. He kicked off his jeans and moved between my legs to kiss my stomach, and I could feel him against my thigh.
“I want you,” he whispered as he trailed kisses up my body. “Tell me I can have you.”
His fingers moved between my legs again, and he sat back to gaze at me, looking… hungry. When his thumb circled me again, I nodded quickly. I closed my eyes as he kicked off his pants and only opened them again when he was above me. He took my hands in his and moved them to the side of my head, pinning them there. He was looking at me with such fierceness that I shook a little, and a small smile played on his lips.
“You’re a bit afraid of me.”
“Do you want me to be afraid of you?”
“I want you to be afraid of angering me.”
“I am.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips against my forehead, his eyes closed. “Amy,” he whispered against my skin, “I’m not a brute, but I want what I want, and that is for you to submit to me.”
His admission didn’t come as much of a surprise, but the timing didn’t seem fair. I was lying there, waiting, and he was asking me to make a choice.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I want all of you—mind, body and soul.”
His fingers circled again, and I arched my back, biting my lip from begging him to continue. He was hinting that he wanted to own me—every part of me—and it seemed impossible, but at that moment, kind of hot.
He stopped touching me and cocked his head to the side. “Say that you’ll be mine. In everything, Amy. My girlfriend, my lover.”
“I already am,” I whispered.
His face softened and he shook his head almost sadly. “It’s not enough. I don’t just want you for a night.”
