The Best Laid Plans

by Mataya, Tamara

She was so cute. He could eat her up. And he would. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “You, if you’re nice to me.”

  “Lucky for me, I’m always nice.”

  “Should I come by tomorrow?” A soft shyness had entered her voice.

  “God yes.”

  Her laugh wandered around his heart, throwing smiles into his chest. “What time should I come?”

  “Five minutes after you get here.”

  “You’re so delightful.”

  “I try.”

  “I like how we’re basically the same person.”

  You have no idea.

  Her feet propelled her to his apartment building as if she moved under a spell. One foot in front of the other carrying her to his door when her mind already roamed inside his apartment. Inside his bedroom. Malcolm. The best drug she’d ever had. No side effects except for the cravings. Too long without his touch made her feel like she would go mad. Knowing there was someone who could please her so completely and not being with him all the time was torture.

  She knocked on his door, fighting the urge to rub against it like a cat in heat.

  He opened the door wearing only a well-worn pair of faded jeans, and looked her head to toe. She also wore jeans and a soft, pink tank top that clung to her curves. He hooked a finger into her belt loop and tugged her through the threshold. She wrapped herself around him and he kissed her deeply enough to make her forget they’d ever been apart. His lips were cool and tasted like peppermint.

  She kicked off her sandals. His hands whispered promises of pleasure across the bare skin of her lower back, trailing underneath her top as he removed it. Her bra hit the floor a second later, and he moved around to embrace her from behind, kissing her collarbone and neck as he went. The loss of his heat against her front made her shiver. His mouth brushing against the nape of her neck made her shiver more.

  His hands splayed over her hips, backed her up tighter to him, pressed hard against the curve of her ass. The sudden pressure made her gasp and push back harder; her need had been a question on the tip of her tongue for a week since she’d last seen him. He was the answer.

  His arms crossed over her body, pausing at shoulder and hip. The hug squeezed a moan from her throat and she couldn’t wait. Spinning in his arms, desire drew her mouth to his, pressed her against him seeking the most skin on skin contact she could get. It still wasn’t enough. His jeans drove her wild with frustration, a denim prison withholding her pleasure, their pleasure from them.

  Malcolm must have felt the same way. A tug and the sliding of a zipper, and cool air enveloped her thighs as her jeans were added to the small puddle of fabric on his floor. Her eager hands made quick work at his waist, and his jeans joined hers. The less he had on, the more she wanted him. Hands kneaded her ass, pressing her against him as he bit her lip and drove her backwards toward his bedroom.

  He scooped her up, carrying her through the door with his arms wound tightly around her. His erection pressed between them, and the visceral lust rampaging through her body made her belly quiver. He eased them down to the bed and rocked against her a couple times. His mouth moved to her neck and his hips stilled, unleashing an unhappy moan from her. Soft laughter tickled her skin.

  “I know exactly how you feel, Jayne.”

  “Obviously not or you’d already be inside me.”

  “Your lips are too perfect when you pout.” He palmed her breasts, teasing her nipples. “Can you blame me for wanting to see it again?”

  She bent her knee behind his back, and hooked his underwear with her toe. Thank you, yoga. As she pulled the last of his clothes off, she reached between them and took him in her hand. His arms wobbled a bit as she began stroking up and down. Good. She hated being the only one made weak by the sheer force of her lust for him. This will teach him to tease me.

  Her victory was cut short at the wicked gleam in his eyes as he moved down her body and removed her thong with his teeth.

  ***

  His balls ached in protest at his self-restraint. His body demanded he join with Jayne. His mind knew he had to hold out until she literally couldn’t stand it. So he slowly drew her thong down her legs with his teeth and let the silky fabric drop to the floor, then kissed his way back up even slower. Straddling her calves, he wrapped his arms around her thighs, hugging her legs closed, and bent to her.

  Her thighs tensed as she tried to part them, but he held them shut and worked her clit more thoroughly with his mouth. Her entire body stiffened, straining with the effort to spread open to grant him full access to her. But he easily overpowered her and licked and sucked her hot center, loving the feeling of her hips bucking beneath him. His gratification grew in proportion with the tremors quaking through her body. She needed him, wanted him. Male pride growled in his chest.

  He intended to take it further than before; he had her attention, now he had to make sure he kept it. She’d whispered to him during a late night phone call, that most men were basically rendered useless in bed, expecting to lie back and watch the show. But that wasn’t what she needed and he used that information to please her.

  He couldn’t blame them. She had a body built for sins of the flesh, her fine-featured face flawless. She enjoyed every minute of sex, throwing herself into the act with everything she had. She smiled when she came. Enthusiasm and passion paired with her skill and generosity as a lover to make her the most intense lover he’d had. He was her best as well, but even the best lay could stagnate after a while. If he couldn’t get her to let him in, forge a deeper connection to go with the sex, he’d become a means to an orgasm.

  After over two dozen positions, dozens of encounters together, he chose that moment to up the ante.

  “I want to tie you up, Jayne.”

  Her hips froze, the quivering didn’t.

  She pushed herself up to her elbows and bit her lip. “I’ve never … ”

  “Never?” He loosened his arms from her legs, and sat up.

  She shook her head and looked away. “Have you done it before?”

  “Yes.”

  Her gaze snapped back to his face. “Were you, um. Did you tie her up, or did you prefer being tied?”

  “She wanted me to tie her up.”

  “Did you like that?”

  “Bondage requires major trust in a partner. It was about letting go, giving in to your partner, allowing them to please you, allowing yourself to give in to your desires. It can be intense.” He hoped he’d earned her trust already, but if not, this could blow up in his face. But he had to know if she trusted him. “Were you ever curious about it?”

  A faint blush appeared. “Maybe.” Her voice came out soft, and she still averted her gaze.

  “Let me do this for you. Let me give you something you’ve never had, please you in ways you’ve never been.” He kissed from her bellybutton down. Just before he reached her clit she moaned, “Yes. Tie me up.”

  She trusted him! Euphoric, he moved to the dresser, pulled out a couple silk scarves, and knelt on the bed near the metal headboard. She was into it, and into him, and trusted him, and he wanted to laugh with joy, but now was so not the time. Dropping one scarf for later, he reached down, brushed his hands up her ribs, under her arms, guiding her hands up. Her face remained open, and a small smile had replaced the cautiously curious expression.

  “I’m going to give you a little slack. But not too much.” He grinned. “I think that would get you into trouble.” He tied her wrist with one end of the scarf, making sure it didn’t cut off any circulation, but that it still held her securely. Then he looped the other end around one of the bars and tied her other wrist.

  “Have you used these with anyone else?” Forced casualness coated her voice, but he saw the tiny flash of something in her eyes and it made him glad he could tell the truth.

  “No. I bought these thinking about you. Hoping that maybe we could use them together.” He ran gentle hands through her hair, adjusting it on the pillow so it was out of her
face, and then he kissed her. She pressed up against him hard, demanding the same with the intensity of her kiss. He’d never been so hard, wanted a woman so much.

  “Are the ties too tight?”

  She curled her hands around the scarf, grabbing it tightly. “No.”

  “Good. Because now I get to do everything I want for as long as I want, and you get to lie there and enjoy it without trying to interrupt me by climbing on top.”

  Her arms stretched high above her head, back arching, body writhing against the restraints, but not because she tried to escape. Her spine undulated like a snake; legs trembled and opened to him as he inched closer. She smiled bigger than he’d ever seen. She was so eager for him. Malcolm trailed a gentle hand up the outside of her thigh, mirroring the soft touch with his tongue on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

  The closer he got to her center, the less she breathed. Her legs tensed then relaxed and he guided her, bending her knees, spreading them as wide as her flexibility would comfortably allow. God she was flexible, her knees touched the mattress, legs folded until she looked like a butterfly. He explored the silky skin of her thighs and ass, lavishing it with caresses. She was so vulnerable, trusting him with her body. Tied up and naked.

  He could do anything to her right now.

  He thrust two fingers deep inside her, the sudden move made her cry out and angle her hips up so he had better access. She moaned as he began pulsing his fingertips against her G-spot. Bending closer, he blew out a focused breath of air.

  ***

  His breath hit her clit like a cold jet, a delicious contrast with the warm waves crashing through her, sent out by his hot fingers deep inside. She shuddered against it, legs spreading even wider to better feel the war between warm and cold fought against her body. His breath spiraled around and around, an icy swirl of pleasure mixed with the light pressure of his breath.

  The restraints made it even better, the material forced her to stay still and submit to the pleasure where normally she’d have pushed him down and climbed on top by now. She’d never been tied up before and almost mourned the times she’d wasted not doing it. But there’d never been anyone like Malcolm before. Guys had asked and she’d refused, not getting why it was a turn on until now. Deep pleasure claimed her body, rendering her unable to lie still.

  She filled with desperation to have him inside her, but the restraints ensured she couldn’t do anything about it. She was a prisoner of pleasure, and Malcolm could throw away the key for all she cared.

  He withdrew his fingers but kept the steady stream of cold air against her. She shivered from want and from the cold. He began to lightly stroke her, his hand felt so warm after his cold breath, it almost made her purr.

  He slowly unfolded his body up hers, pressing against her, crushing her body into the bed. Air left her in a moan, and she watched his hand stretch up toward hers. Was he going to untie her? Did she want him to? But he only jerked the scarf to tighten it, and then reached past, coming up with an additional dark blue scarf she hadn’t seen before.

  “What’s that for?”

  His pupils were dilated, making his eyes deep, black pools she wanted to dive into. “I’m going to blindfold you. If that’s okay with you?”

  Restrained and unable to see? She wouldn’t know where his next touch would fall. What he would do to her next. She’d only feel his touch when it fell upon her. A savage stab of desire tore through her core and rippled through her limbs. “Yes. Do it!”

  The scarf brushed across her face and closed over her eyes, sealing her vision with a thick darkness. Her adrenaline kicked in a bit, and she breathed deeper, realizing now she could smell Malcolm’s soap and the manly muskiness of his skin beneath that. Her feet whispered across the sheets beneath her, and music from a nearby club pulsed in the window, faded into a beat and a tone, rendering the song unrecognizable.

  She groaned when he drew a lazy hand up her calf, her thigh. Whether it was the adrenaline, or the sensory deprivation increasing her sensitivity, it certainly made it more suspenseful when he withdrew all contact from her. Seconds that seemed like hours ticked by.

  Where had his hands gone? “Malcolm?”

  “Shhh. Just relax.”

  It felt like forever, lying exposed on the bed, waiting for his touch. What did he have planned? What was he doing? His weight shifted and she jumped a little when his hands landed between her breasts and stroked down the center of her torso, branching out to caress her hips.

  And again he blew cold air against her clit while stroking her thighs. The icy breath made her long for his warm hands again. The light pressure felt good, but the cold started to become too sharp, almost painful.

  She almost screamed when his mouth locked against her clit and began working her.

  After the cool breaths his tongue felt like it seared her flesh, but she didn’t want him to ever stop. Her breath left her in one long moan. Her hands jerked as she strained against the ties, wanting to grab handfuls of his hair and urge him to go faster.

  His hot tongue circled in time with her hips, unable to keep still. She felt so sensitive it almost hurt. Was it the cold to hot shift, or the blindfold doing this to her, making it feel so good? She screamed as she came almost frighteningly quickly.

  His mouth. Oh god his mouth.

  ***

  Before she’d finished shaking from coming, she pulled at the restraints, this time with intent. He straddled her and reached up to untie her hands. He knew Jayne wanted someone to take control and dominate her, but only to turn her on. Once hot, she liked to be the one on top. It was how she worked. She didn’t get off on dominating for control; she dominated because she couldn’t help herself. She’d had to dominate because no man before him seemed to get her. Necessity, not preference. Malcolm only had to work her into a lather and drop the reins. She’d be his.

  The second he untied her she sprang up, hands around him, fingers digging into his back as she kissed his neck. He gave her his mouth and smiled, allowing her to push him backwards to the mattress. There was no way she could wait; he’d be buried inside her in seconds.

  Knowing it was coming did nothing to prepare him for the exquisite feeling of Jayne slamming herself onto his hard length. And the sight. She hadn’t even bothered taking the blindfold off, unable to wait to be with him. Fiercely beautiful, she gave herself to him with an intensity that took his breath away, making up for the time he hadn’t been inside her. Fiery, and wild, and amazing.

  Perfect. She was so perfect for him.

  He’d loved and hated this woman for years. And she didn’t even remember him.

  For the first time, he wanted her to.

  Sitting up, he kissed her, removed the blindfold and pulled back to look into her eyes.

  Please. See me, Jayne. See me.

  She smiled and leaned closer, embracing him as she nuzzled his neck and breathed into his ear. He tangled his fingers in the soft strands of her hair and kissed her softly, slowly. Her hips stilled beneath the deep intensity of the kiss. His heart stopped too when she pulled back looking softer, more vulnerable than she ever had, a question in her eyes.

  “Oh, Jayne. Where did you come from?” His voice barely a whisper. He wondered something very different than his words. All these years and she’d come back in his life. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, trailed his thumb across her cheek. She fit his body like they’d been created as a matched set. “I feel like I’m … falling … ”

  Jayne’s eyes widened. Then the corners of her mouth tucked in ever so slightly. Malcolm kissed the smile off her face, replaced her soft inhalation with a cry of pleasure as he began thrusting deep inside her. She clung to him as though something tried to tear them apart. The lines of their bodies blurred, pressed so tightly together they were one, moving as one.

  He came a second after she did, shaken by the intensity of it, unsettled that he’d spoken the truth. When a few moments had gone by and Jayne hadn’t let him go, he knew he�
��d gotten her.

  But he had a sneaking suspicion she’d gotten him in the process.

  Jayne’s email chimed. Finally. She’d already made a six-figure return on a big investment that paid off. Sarah would be a happy lady. Even happier if Jayne doubled it, which was possible. Her stomach clenched in anticipation. This was what she loved about her job. High stakes, high gains, and high excitement. With every success, she proved she was meant to be there, proved her savvy and affirmed her status as one of the best. Hopefully the numbers are in, and then I can … hang on. It wasn’t a market report at all.

  It was from a Claire Kriss.

  No attachments.

  Not one of her contacts, but why did that name sound familiar? Jayne opened the email.

  Has it already been ten years since we all stood in the park on that sweltering day in June while I gave the longest valedictorian speech ever? YES! Ten years since we graduated! Where has the time gone? What has everyone been up to? Who has changed the most, become the most successful? I know Facebook has sort of killed the surprise from High School Reunions, but here we are. RSVP before the 12th so I can get final numbers!

  God. High school. What a horrible place in a horrifying time. Jayne had been such a meek little loser back then. Her face grew hot just thinking about it. They were just kids, everyone said, as if that excused their actions. But she’d only been a kid too, and she’d never have done to anyone the things they did to her.

  She deleted the email with a savage sort of glee.

  But …

  She was definitely a different person now; even her worst tormentor couldn’t deny that. Jayne was a true ugly duckling, though she’d always hated that inaccuracy. Ducklings grew up to be ducks. Cygnets grew up to be swans. She was an ugly cygnet. Physically in the best shape of her life, she’d more than grown into her looks, she’d become a financial rock star in a powerful career. There was really no area of her life where she wasn’t completely successful.