by Vera Roberts
The first time at Michelle’s wedding might have been a coincidence but this surely isn’t. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was following me. But how? And why?
“Excuse me,” I try to step around him, but he blocks me. He knows Ian isn’t here. In fact, he knows Ian is still in Los Angeles. There is no way he would be pulling this stunt knowing Ian was around the corner.
Or would he? “Genesis, it’s nice to see you again,” he holds onto the S of my name and I shudder, “what brings you to New York?”
“Business,” I curtly answer and try to move again, only for him to block. “Excuse me.”
“What business?” He hangs onto this S. I’m starting to think he has a lisp.
“None of your business business,” I politely state. I audibly sigh and I think my frustration makes him amused. Hell come high water…
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he caresses my cheek and I slap his hand away, “ooh, touché.”
“I’m not alone,” I firmly state, “and my company is waiting for me.”
“Oh Emma? She’s properly sauced,” Todd replies. “It’s just us right now.”
I take a deep breath. I won’t make a scene because that’s what he wants. I’ll handle this as quickly as possible so I can get away from him. “What is it that you want?”
“I saw your video and I can’t stop thinking about you.” He steps closer to me and backs me against the wall. “I think you’re perfect for what I’m looking for.”
“I don’t fuck married men,” I sharply respond, “and I’m with Ian.”
“Oh yes, but Ian’s not here, is he?” He tries to kiss my lips but I quickly turn away. He didn’t take it as a rejection, however. He kissed my neck instead. “You taste just as delicious as I imagined.”
I can no longer contain my emotion. I sharply slap Todd’s face and breathe through my nostrils. “You will never do that again.”
Todd simply smiles and rubs his now-pink cheek. He looks back at me and winks. “I’ll have you one way or another, Genesis. If I don’t, you can kiss your studio goodbye.”
“Is that a threat?” I ask.
“No, I don’t threaten, sweetheart,” he tsks, “I always make promises.”
“Domi?”
We both look over and I see Ian’s friend, Nick D’Amato, approach me. Todd quickly backs off and I rush over to Nick. “Are you okay?” He asks.
“Now I am,” I whisper as he wraps his arms around me, “what are you doing here?”
“Entertaining some colleagues after work,” Nick’s eyes never leave Todd’s. “And I needed to go freshen up. It’s a good thing I did.”
“I’m okay.” I nod. “I just need to get back to Emma.”
“I’ll escort you to make sure there’s no more trouble,” Nick finally turns to me and starts walking with me back to the bar, where Emma is entertaining a couple of men. She knows she has no desire to sleep with anyone other than Gerald but she likes to go out to see if she still “has it.” She’s the true Joanne the Scammer. “How much longer are you in New York?”
“Just tonight. I leave in the morning.” I look behind Nick and I see Todd has left. I don’t know where he went and I hope he stays gone.
“Good. Let me know if you have any problems.” He nods before he begins to leave.
“Nick, wait,” I call over to him and take him a secluded area in the bar. “Um, this might be the most inopportune time to ask about this but Ian mentioned you might be an expert on BDSM?”
Nick gives me a polite smile like he’s humoring my childish ass. “What is it that you want to know?”
Um, everything? “Just the basics. Like if there’s a guide or a book you could direct me to, that’ll be great. I mean, I’ve read the books and saw the movie so I have an idea on what it’s about.”
“You have no clue,” he states with an authoritative tone. Nick pulls out a business card and hands it over to me. It’s smooth and expensive, just like him. “If you’re serious, call me. Take care, Domi.”
I look at the business card Nick gave me. It has St. Nick and a phone number, presumably his.
St. Nick? Oh, okay. I guess that’s his Dom moniker or something? I wonder what Nick would be like as a Dom? Would he be able to teach me anything?
I slide the card back inside my clutch and rejoin Emma. I just hope Nick is worth is his salt.
Eleven
“So, what do you think?”
Ian slowly walks around the studio and examines it for things, I’m not quite sure exists. He’s wearing these super-cute but totally-hot Harry Potter frames on his face and he reminds me of that one professor in college a girl wants to bone so she could get a good grade?
Yeah.
He’s walking around in a dark shirt with rolled-up sleeves, grey tweed slacks, and black suspenders complementing his dark loafers. My man looks and feels like money, and he knows it too.
But today isn’t the day for him to brag about how he’s wearing the dollar amount of a semester’s worth of tuition on his body; we have serious business here. He’s checking over the studio to see if it’s a good fit for me, but most importantly, if it’s a good fit for his wallet.
Ian takes his time and examines every.fucking.thing about the studio, including the damn baseboards. Why? No clue. But he feels he needs to squat down and look at them closely. That’s fine. I can watch how that ass flexes when he does.
“How much did you say the rent was?” Ian asks Rasil.
“It’s five thousand a month,” Rasil replies. He’s an Arab man, who looks like he could be Jason Momoa’s darker younger brother. He also emanates the hotness factor. “I’m sure the owner can negotiate the price.”
“I’ll have a talk with him to see if what he wants to do,” Ian slowly stands up and studies the wall and ceiling of the studio. It’s full of cobwebs and all sorts of nasty stuff I don’t want to touch. “I thought he was taking care of this place but I guess he was just renting it out to whoever wanted it and asked no questions as long as they paid rent on time.”
The way he said it tells me it’s someone he knows. “You know the owner?”
“Gerald,” Ian’s eyes are still scoping the place, “it’s under his LLC, Ellaescara.” He puts his hands on his hips as he surveys how much work he’ll have to do to make it studio-ready before opening day. I have a feeling it’s a lot. “He originally bought it for Emma, when she wanted to do the mug line. She figured out she could do it on her own from home online but Gerald kept the property just in case.” Ian walks around the floor, and I hear the soft steps of his Gucci loafers on the hardwood floor. “The way this place looks tells me my brother’s forte is in art, and not real estate.”
Bae just said a mouthful but I’m too stuck on the company’s name. “Can you run that name by me again?”
“Ella es cara,” the words roll off Ian’s tongue and I feel a tingle in my thighs. There’s something super sexy about a British accent speaking Spanish. “It’s Spanish for, ‘She’s expensive.’”
The more I witness Gerald’s and Emma’s marriage, the more I understand and appreciate them. They really do complement each other.
“So, is this a no?” I ask. It’s the perfect studio but it seems it’ll be a headache with all of the paperwork and what-not.
“No, you’re getting it,” Ian nods, “I just need to hire a temporary staff to clean this all up.” He looks over at me. “But no, no worries, angel. This is yours.”
I leap into Ian’s arms and he twirls me around. This is so amazing and awesome. It seems like everything is coming together little by little. “Thank you so much, baby.”
“You’re welcome, angel.” Ian rubs my back. He looks over to Rasil. “Please email me with all of the details. I want this settled before I leave.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Ferguson.” Rasil smiles. “Congratulations, Dominique. I hope your dance studio is a success.” He leaves.
Ian walks around and silently counts all of th
e work that needs to be done. The poles need to be installed. A cash register, vending machine, and lockers need to be supplied. The gender-neutral bathrooms need to be bleached to hell. There’s a lot, I can tell, but Ian is determined to make it all work before he leaves in a few days.
Sigh. A few days.
Ever since we’ve been a part of each other’s lives, we’ve never gone more than a few days without seeing each other and every time was a homecoming. Now, my man will be gone for almost two months and I don’t know how I’ll survive.
Yes, I know I’m dramatic AF but I really love him and I’m going to miss him terribly. I’m glad I’ll have the studio to keep me occupied because I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.
“Now that you’re a part-owner of the studio,” Ian begins, “we need to celebrate.”
“Owner?” I question. “I thought you were going to own it and I’ll just be on the lease?”
“No, you’ll own it with me. I’ll be on it on paper so no one comes after you when they can deal with me.” He smiles. “But this is all yours, angel.”
My heart soars and it feel likes it’s about to burst through my throat. “Baby…” My eyes start to water.
“Hey now,” he kisses the fallen, salty tears, “we need to celebrate your new studio and I think a great way to celebrate.”
“Oh?” Ian is full of surprises and I honestly stopped trying to guess what he’s up to a long time ago.
“Yes,” Ian takes out his iPhone and puts on some music. My eyes widen when I recognize the band and the song.
“Okay, wait a minute…” I shake my head as the thumping bass line of “Feenin’” enters the dance space. “What you know about Jodeci?” I chuckle. Ian may be aware of some things in black culture but I didn't think one of the blackest groups of all time would be something he knew.
“A former lover listened to them a lot and it grew on me,” he casually shrugged as if this is just a regular occurrence and not the biggest mind blowing thing I've heard all goddamn year. “Diary of a Mad Band is one of my favorite albums.”
What the…?
“Enough about what I like and don’t,” Ian grabs a chair and sits in front of me. “You earned this studio, angel. Prove it to me it wasn’t a mistake.”
Oh, it’s like that? Boy, I’m about to shut you alllllllll the way up. And just like that, I already know what I’m going to do to blow Ian’s mind and make him bust a load in his pants. “Start the music over, Zaddy.”
Ian starts the music again and I lock eyes with him. I slowly gyrate to the hypnotic bass line and Devante Swing’s naughty whispers. I mouth along with him to Ian so he knows exactly what’s on my mind.
“All of the chronic in the world couldn’t mess with you,” I mouth and Ian sexily nods back. Oh, I have a feeling we’ll be doing a bit more than freakin’ by the time this song is over.
I slowly walk towards him and do a small move, placing my hands in front of my sex as I do a small move with my hips. I gyrate against the music, with my gyrations becoming more pronounced with each chord and beat until I make my way back up. My hands become lost in my hair while my hips voluntarily move on their own.
I slide my hands down my body and it’s already hot to the touch. I’ve done dances like these so much, they’re a dime a dozen. But performing for my man is on another level. There’s an intimacy, a connection between us that couldn’t be explained and we wouldn’t dare to.
Whenever we lock eyes with each other, it’s clear we’re the only ones in the universe. It doesn’t matter what’s going on outside, or what drama is happening. Our focus is only on each other and that’s it.
I turn around to dip low, bouncing my booty a couple of times and Ian quietly licks his lips. He adjusts his position in the chair and I can tell his erection is chafing against his slacks.
I do a roll over into the splits – Ian’s favorite move of mine – and slide my body across the floor, twisting it left and right as I move.
As I continue to dance, Ian stands up and removes his suspenders, followed by his shirt. His muscular chest is barely covered by his white undershirt and now it’s my turn to lick my lips. He unbuttons his slacks and his shaft creates a noticeable tent in his boxer briefs.
He calmly folds his clothing and sets them aside before he sits back down on the chair. He strokes himself through the fabric of his briefs and damn it, if that’s not the hottest thing right now.
“Take off your clothes,” he orders, “slowly.”
My man wants me to strip for him and I’m more than happy to. Memories of the first time I performed a similar dance for him come flooding back, even though it wasn’t that long ago. He wants us to christen this place – our place – and I’m anxious to.
I peel off my shirt and toss it aside. I cover one hand over my red lacy bra while I continue to dance for him. I feel my panties becoming soaked with want but I keep focused on him. I have a feeling my dance won’t last very long and I need to finish as much as I can.
I turn around and take a deep breath. I’m about to do a dance move not even Ian has seen and suddenly I feel self-conscious about it. I unbutton my shorts and pull them over my hips. I bend all the way over to pull them down while I jiggle my ass.
I know it sounds funny; Ian has already seen my ass and plenty of me, but it’s different this way. I’m performing for him, like if he’s a client and I’m showcasing myself. Of course, I would never do that with anyone else, but it’s a naughty game we’re playing and I’m a willing participant.
I turn around and lock eyes with Ian again, except this time, he has his cock out and is stroking himself. Now the want in my panties became an urgent need. I need to feel all of him inside of me and soon, or I might burst.
Ian slowly beckons his fingers and I try not to rush over. Instead, I drag one foot behind the other and stand in front of him. I steady myself on his shoulders as he softly kisses my tummy and grabs two fistfuls of my ass. “Turn around,” he orders and I oblige.
He moves my thong to the side and repositions himself, before pulling me onto his lap and sinking down on his cock. I whimper as he kisses my neck and squeezes my breasts. I’m feeling all of him and I’m still not accustomed to it. I doubt I ever will be.
“Watch us, angel.” He nibbles on my ear.
I open my eyes and see us together on the chair. Ian’s cock is buried deep within me and I can’t take my eyes off it, off us. As Ian guides me up and down, I watch in awe as Ian’s cock appears and disappears with each thrust.
I gasp and shriek; my breath stolen in some moments, while I’m fully panting in others. My sex is suckling and quivering around his thick length; hungry and greedy for all of it, and wanting more.
We made love slow at first, and then built up to an intense tempo, compounded by our love for each other and Jodeci in the background. Our lips repeatedly met, moaning into each other’s mouths. Our bodies fit together perfectly, coming together as one.
My breathing became shallow as the orgasm approached me. My skin was hot, my heart felt heavy, and my mind…my mind was in another place. I’d never experienced a love like this before and I struggle to think what my life was like before Ian.
He brought magic to my life I’d never known and could only read about. He encouraged my dreams, and accepted me for what I am. His overwhelming love for me made my head dizzy, my heart happy, and my body know a pleasure that didn’t know existed. I love this man with everything.
Ian kept one hand squeezing my breasts, while the other traveled down to play with my sex. His fingers perfectly circled me, shooting off small fireworks in my body as my pace grew faster and faster.
The orgasm came quick, hard, and fast, touching every nerve of my body and stilling me. I leaned back against my boyfriend as he placed a series of kisses all over my neck and ending at my lips while he came as well. The song was long over, but we stayed in that position, just holding and enjoying each other as long as we could.
I never do
ubt that we were made for each other. A passion like that just doesn’t happen with anyone or anything. We were meant to exist for each other.
~~~~~~
I think I’ve just fallen in love with Edward Cullen again.
As I carefully eat popcorn and sigh at the beauty of the relationship between Edward and Bella, I can’t help but to think of the comparisons of that couple with mine. Edward fights and protects his woman, he loves her unconditionally, and they live happily ever after, despite they might have a demon-spawn of a child (but that’s not entirely too fictional from real-life as I’ve witnessed).
Gosh, I don’t think I could ever get over these movies or the fact that Ian was willing to watch them with me. Well, sorta. He sat through the first one, laughed at the movie as if he were watching a comedy during the second, and was knocked-out cold by the third.
Hey, at least he tried, right?
“Baby,” I shake him awake and his eyes narrow at me as he tries to find his focus on where he is and who he is, “the movie is done.”
“Oh,” he yawned and stretched out on the sofa, “did I miss anything?”
“You missed everything!” I hit him with a pillow and he laughs. “But I can watch it again with you if you like.”
“No,” he states, “just…no.”
“Whatever!” I get up and grab the empty popcorn bowl and glasses. I put them in the sink and return to the sofa, where I promptly snuggle against Ian. His body is so hard, yet, it’s so warm and comforting. He could hold me all day.
“What time’s your flight in the morning, angel?” He caresses my back.
“Nine,” I softly yawn. “Dolce rented out a studio for me. He’ll be on set but he won’t appear in the video. I don’t know how many takes we’re doing.”
“Sounds like a busy day,” he replies, “let me know how it goes. Send pictures if you like?”
“You’re not coming with?” I knew Ian had to work but I was hoping he would play hooky for me in my global debut. YouTube doesn’t count.
“I wish I could but I have business matters to attend to.” His sentence was serious but his tone was that of annoyance. It sounded like Ian didn’t want to do whatever it was he had. “We’re looking at purchasing more property and relatively soon so I have to stay back to make sure it all goes well.”
