Please, Sir

by Leigha Taylor

  When my good friend Caroline opens that door looking like she just stepped off the pages of Cosmopolitan magazine, I almost lose my grip on my box of treats after all. Her dark hair is twisted into some kind of glossy, intricate knot just below her left ear and her neckline seems to have lost its battle with gravity as it practically exposes her belly button. I know Caroline enjoys dressing up, and I can’t say I mind donning some couture once in a while myself, but I got the impression that this was a drink and stuff ourselves silly kind of night, not a trip to the Oscars.

  “I think I’m a little underdressed, Care. What the hell are you wearing?”

  Her broad smile falls just a little as she looks down at her own cleavage and beyond. “You don’t like it?”

  “Of course, I like it. Anyone would like it. I mean, fuck, Andrew must be about to bust in his pants because I’m practically drooling as I look at you. However, I seem to have missed the part about formal dress when you were inviting me over for spaghetti.”

  “Don’t be silly. You look perfect.”

  I’m not sure if I entered the Twilight Zone or something, but the clothing discussion is apparently over as Caroline takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen. One whiff of the food cooking in here has my stomach growling and churning in hunger. The box of cupcakes is taken out of my hand by Andrew, who is lucky he manages not to drop the entire thing. He can’t seem to take his eyes off his wife and I’m a little jealous of her for a moment. The only person who ever looked at me that way was J –

  I’m not going to think about that right now. Instead, I’m going to try to wrap my head around this crazy situation. As I turn to thank Andrew, I realize he’s Prom King to Caroline’s Queen in his dark suit and vibrant turquoise tie. I open my mouth to ask him what I’ve walked into when the doorbell rings and he turns to quickly exit the kitchen.

  As Caroline grabs her purse off the table by the front door, she grins broadly at me and says, “I love you very much. Both of you.”

  I look to Andrew, thinking she’s talking to the two of us and see that he’s unable to meet my eyes. He stuffs one hand in his pocket and offers the other to his wife as they answer the call of the doorbell together. From where I’m standing, I can’t see who is outside, but as voices rise, I recognize the smooth rumble of Jesse’s oh-so-sexy voice and I look frantically for an escape route. I hear Caroline mention Casa di Angeline, the incredible new Italian restaurant about thirty minutes from here and then, suddenly, she and Andrew are just gone.

  Jesse stands just inside the door, having been thrust inside by Caroline on her way out. Both of us stand there, immobile, as though we have lost the ability to speak. It’s only when I hear the growl of a car engine coming to life that I come to life and rush toward the front window. Andrew’s car is just pulling out of the driveway and, without a glance back toward the house, he and his wife disappear from sight.

  The clothes, the hair, the mention of Casa di Angeline, all of it begins to fit together as I realize I’ve been tricked. I’ve been brought here to face Jesse while Caroline and Andrew live it up at some fancy restaurant, probably having a good laugh at my bewildered expression as the events unfolded before me.

  My first instinct is to run. I feel for the car keys which are frustratingly absent since my yoga pants didn’t come equipped with pockets. As I try to figure out how long it will take me to grab them from the kitchen and run to my car, I see that Jesse’s car is parked directly behind mine. Keys or no keys, unless I want to ask him to move it, I’m stuck. Opting for plan B, I do what any reasonable woman would do. I silently stride back to the kitchen, take out the first cupcake my fingers touch, and eat half of it in one bite. When all else fails, cake will never betray you.

  I feel Jesse approaching rather than hear him and every cell of my body is on high alert. It’s like my soul knows he’s in the building and it’s trying with all its might to break free and join up with him. Traitorous invisible essence, knock it off!

  “Allison?” he says my name quietly as though trying not to scare me off, and I reluctantly turn to face him. My mouth is still too full of frosting to speak and I swipe at my crumb-covered lips with my thumb. Maybe plan B wasn’t the best idea.

  It seems like slow-motion as Jesse takes the two steps to close the gap between us. He reaches past me to rip a paper towel from the roll and brings it to my lips, wiping gently at the evidence of my failed avoidance tactics.

  The electrical sensations that dance across my skin are a testament to the pull I feel toward him and I will myself to settle down. It’s not like he’s kissing me, for Christ’s sake, he’s wiping my mouth like I’m some messy toddler about to be scolded for eating dessert before I’ve had my dinner.

  I finally swallow what feels like a golf-ball sized lump of cake, but I still can’t manage to say anything. I can’t come up with the right words, but saying nothing feels all wrong. I just stare blankly into the blue eyes that make me melt and hope he can somehow read the myriad of thoughts that are running through my brain. It seems he’s going for blunt rather than psychic, though, when he comes out with, “Well, this is awkward.”

  He could have been reading the dictionary and his voice would still do strange things to my insides. When he’s in his Master J persona, Jesse’s voice becomes a little harsher, a little more demanding, but it’s still the one I hear in my dreams.

  Deciding that a little humor is better than strained silence, I laugh, saying, “Yeah, I guess it is. Caroline just lost some major BFF points tonight.”

  I was wrong. Silence was better. Jesse’s face falls at my words and I realize what I said.

  “Jesse, I didn’t mean…”

  “No, it’s okay. I guess I’m not the best surprise after, well, everything.”

  “Are you kidding? If I knew what to say right now, you’d be the best surprise! I…”

  I have to learn to think before I speak. Why not tell the man who broke my heart just where the stitches are hidden so he can rip them out and I can start all over?

  “If it helps, Allie, I’m not sure what to say, either. What I did was wrong on so many levels and I know a simple I’m sorry isn’t going to cover it. I heard you loud and clear when you basically told me to stay out of your life. It was my intent to honor that, just so you know. I figured if you wanted to talk to me, I’d hear from you. If not, well, it’s my own fault. I know I fucked up.”

  “Should we… talk about it?”

  “Well, Care did make us this dinner. After the stunt she pulled, we should at least get dinner before we take the leftovers and leave her with the dishes.”

  This time, my laugh is genuine and I relax a little. Caroline has the dining area set for two, complete with decanted red wine and candles, which I will not be lighting. There is such a thing as too much, and a candlelight dinner with Jesse fits in that category.

  I move to take a seat and Jesse gets there first, pulling out my chair. It surprises me for a second, but Jesse has always been a gentleman. The Marks children were raised right; Mr. and Mrs. Marks are two of my favorite people in this world and they taught their children well. I wonder briefly if his parents know what type of business he’s in, but I shut those thoughts down almost as quickly as they begin. I don’t want to know.

  I must have missed something while my mind was wandering because Jesse is still standing by my chair, looking at me expectantly.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I shake my head at him and he grins.

  “I asked if the lady would care for some wine this evening.”

  “The lady would enjoy that very much. Thank you, Sir.” We both freeze for a second as we realize the weight that name, Sir, carries with it. Jesse’s gaze intensifies and there is a heat in his eyes that makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat. He finally looks away and I fidget nervously, obsessively straightening the napkin I’ve just placed in my lap. He fills my wine glass a good two-thirds full before doing the same to his own and finally taking his seat across f
rom me.

  We serve ourselves, passing the bowls back and forth, having fallen back into a pattern of silence. My foot starts to tap on its own accord; I can’t stand the strain between us.

  “Jesse, this —”

  “Allie,—”

  We just can’t seem to get this right tonight. Jesse gestures at me, urging me to continue and I take him up on the offer.

  “This is silly. We’ve known each other forever. We both knew going into our arrangement that it had an expiration date. Sure, it didn’t end on the best terms and it ended sooner than we both expected, but we are basically guaranteed to be in each other’s lives from now until forever, so we might as well talk this out and figure out a way to live with it.”

  “I agree.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course. I was a complete idiot. I own up to that. I could apologize to you every time I see you for the next fifteen years and it probably wouldn’t be enough. Still, that would just make things uncomfortable for everyone and I think there has been enough of that.”

  “Definitely. Can I just ask you something, though? I mean, I don’t need you to apologize over and over. I can forgive you, Jesse, I already have. What happened isn’t really the issue. It’s why it happened that I don’t understand. What did I do wrong? You seemed so infuriated with me that night. I was late and that was wrong. I was drunk and that was worse. But you didn’t know I was drunk until afterward. So what did I do that made you so damn angry with me?” My frustration builds as I speak, finally giving voice to the question that has been keeping me awake at night. Coming to terms with losing the man I love is hard; doing it without knowing why is impossible.

  “You didn’t do anything. I mean, I was angry that you were late and it was reckless and stupid of you to show up drunk, but the rest was on me. It was all me.”

  “Why?”

  “Can’t I just apologize and move on? Maybe talking this out wasn’t a great idea.” He wipes his lips with the cotton napkin and moves to stand up.

  “Dammit, Jesse, no, you can’t! You can’t break my heart, make me think I’m going to finally know why, and leave me hanging!”

  “Break your heart? That’s hilarious, Allison. What exactly did Caroline tell you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I on—”

  “So my meddling sister didn’t come to you and tell you some story about me being depressed and miserable?”

  “Well, yes, b—”

  “I thought so. I’ll say it again. What I did was fucking wrong. But you, coming in here and twisting my words, playing games with my head? That’s just as wrong.”

  “What games, Jesse? This is getting out of control! I don’t know what I did then and I don’t know what I’m doing now, but we can’t seem to be in the same room without you getting pissed off over some phantom wrong I’ve done. I guess we’re just a bad combination.” I’m angry and hurt and hot tears spill down my face as I stand and toss my once perfectly-straightened napkin on the table. I grab my keys from the counter and make it halfway to the front door before I realize I’m still blocked in. Pulling out my cell phone, I google the number to a local cab company and press the screen to call as I gently latch the door behind me. There is no sense slamming it. People slam doors to make a point, to make a silent declaration of anger. I’m not angry. I’m numb. Numb people slip away quietly.

  Chapter Six

  The pounding I hear had better be coming from next door. There is no one on earth who is welcome at my door in the middle of the night. Squinting at the bedside clock, the numbers scream 1:17 am in sickeningly bright green lights. The ridiculous banging continues as I step out of bed and pull a robe on. I don’t usually sleep nude, but I was too drained to even consider getting ready for bed properly tonight. My clothes are in a trail from the front door to the last sock at the foot of my bed, and my mascara has probably melted halfway down my face as I slept.

  I can only assume Caroline has come to track me down again. Her little scheme definitely didn’t work out the way she planned. I manage to trip on those damned yoga pants as I stumble through the living room, mumbling words that would make a sailor blush as I plan my verbal attack on my very sneaky friend.

  “Are you trying to get me evicted?” I whisper-scream the words as I open the door.

  “Evicted? No. I tried knocking quietly but you didn’t answer.” Jesse looks contrite as he steps through the threshold without waiting for an invitation.

  “I didn’t answer because I was sleeping. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I fail to see how that is my problem.” I try for aloof as I mentally berate myself for wanting to put my arms around him, despite everything.

  “It really isn’t, I guess. I’ve done everything else wrong so far, so I guess I’m trying to make sure I keep my streak going.”

  “You’re doing fine so far.”

  “I’m sorry for going off on you like that back at Caroline’s. She nearly had my head when I told her what happened. She told me I’m a complete moron, which I already knew, and lit into me for hurting you again. She was going to call you, but I told her to let me handle it this time.”

  “So this is you handling it?”

  “I guess.” Jesse runs his hand through his already disheveled hair and I have to put my hands behind my back to keep from smoothing it. “I need to say something, Allison. I need you to hear me out and then if you want me gone, I’ll go.”

  I say nothing, crossing my arms across my chest as if that will protect me from whatever comes next.

  “I wasn’t angry with you that night. I thought I was, I wanted to be, but I wasn’t. I was angry with myself. I broke a rule I’ve never broken in the five years HJR Services has existed. I fell in love with a client.”

  My heart aches at the words. It makes so much sense. Jesse had to have resented his sessions with me if he was in love with someone else. I put my hand up to stop him, not wanting to hear any more, but it dawns on me that each Dom only takes on one client at a time. That would mean…

  “I love you, Allison. I think I’ve always loved you. I think I first fell for you when you were nine years old. I was eleven and convinced myself that it was silly to have a crush on a little kid. When I was fifteen and you were thirteen, I avoided you the best I could because seeing you in your little red bikini was more than my hormones could handle. I told myself it was just because you had a great body, even then. At seventeen, I thought we were finally going to be together; I thought you finally felt the same way, but we never got past that one summer. I thought about you all the time after that and I even tried to talk to Caroline about it, but she threatened me within an inch of my life to stay away from you. She said she was not going to lose her best friend because her brother wanted to cop a feel. Her words, not mine.

  “When you stood outside the door of our first session, it was like everything I’d ever wanted had been handed to me. I tried to be professional. I tried so hard to think of you as Lila, a client and nothing else. You were never just a client, Allie. Never. I knew you were looking for someone to guide you, not someone to confuse you with feelings. Old feelings, new feelings, they were all just there and I took it out on you. You were late and I was so scared you weren’t coming. Anger was easier than fear, than rejection, so I went with it. I’ve never regretted something so much in my life.”

  The entire time Jesse was talking, I just stood there. My entire body had grown cold as I listened to my life story being told in reverse.

  “When I was nine, I was writing your name all over my journal and wishing the eleven year old boy I loved would notice me. I thought you hated me when I was thirteen and insecure; you would always shut yourself in your room or leave to see your friends when I would come around. I craved your attention so badly that I bought that cute little red bikini to get you to look at me. Pulling away from you the summer I was fifteen was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’ve alwa
ys loved you, Jesse. Ever since I can remember. How did we not know?”

  “If you’re playing games with my heart…”

  “We’re too old now for games. I’ve been through a lonely marriage, a bitter divorce, and now a devastating heartbreak. I don’t have it in me to play games.”

  “Drop your robe.”

  “What? Jesse,—”

  “The rest of this conversation can wait. I love you; you love me. I’ve been with Lila and it was incredible, but tonight I want to be with Allison. Now drop your robe.”

  There is an edge to his voice, but it stops just shy of belonging to Master J. This is all Jesse. His words feel like the gentle command of a lover, not an order, so I drop my robe to the floor and just stand there. Jesse takes a quick breath in and reaches for me, grasping both of my hips firmly and pulling me to him.

  “We can play, but we don’t have to. I will make love to you any way you want me to.”

  “I want whatever you want to give me.”

  Jesse quickly picks me up, growling, “Same here,” and heading for the living room. He stops to look around and swears.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Where is your bedroom?”

  With a stifled laugh, I point in the proper direction. We enter the room and Jesse sets me on my feet beside the bed. His hands are rough as he grips my ass and pulls me in for a kiss. This isn’t just any kiss; this is the kiss of a love left waiting way too long. It’s deep and intense, and our tongues wage a war neither of us wants to win. Every part of my body is on high alert; my nipples strain toward him until it’s almost painful and I can feel the wetness between my legs increase as his strong hands massage my ass. The sex between us has never been the problem, and I’m elated to find that we can do vanilla as well as we do every other flavor.

  Jesse steps back and starts to unbutton the deep blue button-up he’s still wearing. I’ve never had the chance to do what I want with him, so I take over, kissing each exposed area of his chest as the shirt opens. When I’ve undone the last one, I push the material back off his shoulders and he shrugs out of it. I kneel on the plush carpet and get to work on his belt. He groans as I slowly unzip his pants and pull them down to his knees. He removes the rest of his clothing and stands in front of me, his erection already staring me in the face as I open my mouth and start to work him down my throat. He grasps a handful of my hair, but does nothing to control my movements, seeming to understand the fun I’m having being in charge for the moment. I have no interest in switching roles with him, but knowing that his pleasure is all mine to claim is exciting in a whole new way.