by Dee Palmer
“God, no! I’m on fire!” I gasp, trying to regain a normal breath. I release my grip on his arm, and he slowly removes his fingers, squeezing my thigh with his hand briefly before he brings his fingers to his mouth and sensuously sucks them clean. He takes them from his mouth with a popping sound.
“Yes, you are, but given that we are likely to be stopping in traffic when we hit town, there is a blanket behind my seat. I would like you to use it to cover yourself.” He looks to me and adds. “My eyes only, Miss Thorne. I told you before, I don’t share.” His tone and expression are extremely serious. I lean my arm back and grab the softest blanket. It feels like cashmere. I sit up and wrap it around my shoulders and fold it tight across my body. It’s large and covers me completely.
“Better?” I ask.
“Not in the least, but I’d rather have you covered than take the risk of someone else seeing what’s mine.” The timbre in his deep voice is filled with authority.
“Daniel, I’m not yours. I don’t belong to anyone, but I’m definitely not yours.” I admonish.
“Really?” He sounds playful, but I’m not sure he wants to play this game with me.
“Really, Daniel. This”--I slip my arm from the blanket and wave between us--“is fun, amazing, really, hot and mind-blowing. Not that I think your ego needs a boost but I’m being honest when I say I couldn’t have fantasized a better first time. But it’s nothing more than that, it won’t ever be anything more than that. So you need to be fine with that or this”--I wave again--“ends tonight.”
“Oh, I liked that little speech, Miss Thorne, especially the bit about mind-blowing.” I laugh, I knew he would. “Would you like to tell me why, or is this just another of ‘your things’?”
“One of my ‘things’, and no, I’m not going to elaborate.” I happen to think he has learned enough about me already without my help, and this isn’t a full disclosure type of arrangement.
“Well, Bethany.” He reaches under the blanket to gently hold my leg, squeezing and stroking with his thumb. “I would like you to know that you are quite wrong, but like you, I choose not to elaborate.” He smiles a hugely confident smile, which makes me laugh, but I just shake my head and mumble under my breath.
“Whatever.” I look out of my window and see we are nearly at my place.
“I’m not taking you home. You’re coming to my apartment.” He states.
“What! No! I can’t, I have to go home, I have work to do.” I panic, it’s late, and I still have a Late Night call to deal with.
“Work? This late?” He looks across and grins. He thinks I’m making excuses.
“Daniel, yes, I still have work to do. I should’ve been working on my reading all day, so I’m behind. I have other stuff to deal with, and I’m a little tired, so I would really like to go home-- to my home.” I plead. His eyes soften, but he is not giving up.
“What stuff?” He presses for details.
“Ok, specifically, I have some clothes soaking on my toilet floor that will be ruined if I don’t sort them out. They aren’t mine, and I kind of rely on the wardrobe share deal I have with Sofia. I have my other laundry to deal with. I have to sort out how I’m going to catch up on my reading, and I have to body wash. Oh, and I probably have to call Sofia, who will be really pissed I haven’t called her. Is that detailed enough for you, Sir?” I add with a bit of unnecessary attitude.
“You know when you call me Sir, I’m instantly hard and much less likely to drop you home?” He murmurs. “What do you mean by body wash? I’m extremely interested in what that is.” He deepens his timbre.
“Well, as sexy as you make that sound, since you broke the shower door I now have to wash myself in my sink.” I look over to him. “My reality is not quite so sexy now, eh?” I know I’m putting a downer on the mood, but my life is so far removed from his, and I’m too tired to pretend that it’s not.
“I’m sorry. Why don’t you come back with me, have a bath, relax, and I’ll drop you back in the morning?” Oh, God, he couldn’t be sweeter, and now he’s found my Achilles heel.
“You honestly have no idea how good that sounds, but I can’t do the walk of shame three mornings in a row.” I cringe at the very thought.
“Three?” He is shocked.
“Yes. Friday night I panicked, thought you might show up all angry so I stayed at Marcos’ and he dropped me back in the morning. Having to walk past a kitchen full of men in last night’s clothes wasn’t my finest hour.” I smile weakly, but he is frowning, and his jaw twitches.
“You stayed at Marcos’?” I sense the agitation in his tone.
“Wow, that’s what you took from that? Yes, I stayed with my best friend. You know what I said about me choosing my friends, not family? Well, Marco is my best friend and my brother.” His shoulders relax a little, and I reach over and grab his thigh. Its hard and has very little give as I try to squeeze some reassurance. “Any other time and I’m there, really. Me and a luxury bath; separated at birth! But tonight I need to be home.” I squeeze again, still no give, but I notice he turns off the main road toward the back of the restaurant. He parks on the pavement beside my door, gets out, walks around to my side, opens my door, and asks for my keys.
“Stay there, don’t move!” He looks grumpy as he opens my door and returns to me. He lifts me and holds me tight to his chest and carries me up to my apartment, then places me like I’m made of china on my sofa. He runs back down to the car and I think he’s gone when I hear the door slam. Less than a minute later he re-enters my apartment with my wet clothes and my bag. Placing them on the floor, he comes to sit next to me and pulls me into his lap, his big arms holding me, warm and tight. I feel my body relax into his, and I am dangerously close to falling asleep. I shift to move, and he tightens his hold.
“Did I say you could move, Miss Thorne?” His rough tone makes me tingle and giggle at the same time.
“You know I would love to play the ‘Sir’ game with you right now, but that isn’t going to help my plans for tonight.” I wriggle again, and he releases his hold with a grunt. “Thank you for the ride.” It’s my turn for a cheeky grin, “…and thank you for coming to get me. Oh, and thank you for carrying me in, very gallant, Sir.” I smile and give a mock curtsey. A rumble sound comes from deep in his throat.
“Oh, and you expect me to leave when you come over all subservient?” He stalks toward me.
“Oh, shit!” I jump out of his reach. “No! No! Oh God! I really don’t have time. Please, please, Daniel, you have to leave.” I’m begging, and the submissive remark has just made my plea more urgent as I have a booked call in fifteen minutes.
“Oh, and now you’re begging? There is no way I can leave now.” His grin is dangerously wicked, my heart is beating rapidly, and just the thought of succumbing makes my mouth water. I lick my dry lips.
“Daniel,” I try to warn as he approaches.
“Miss Thorne.” His voice is deep and throaty.
“What do I have to do to get you to leave right now?” I plead. I’m desperate.
“Mmmm, well, it would have to be pretty spectacular given what I want to do to you right now.” I try to swallow, and my face flushes bright red. “Dinner tomorrow, and you stay at mine, so I have you all night. No walk of shame, you can bring a change of clothes.”
“I’m working tomorrow.” I plead.
“Don’t!” He snaps with irritation, real life interfering with his plans again.
“It’s not that simple; I have commitments” I try to argue.
“Make me your commitment.’” He goes to sit down.
“Okay, I’ll swap my shift. Dinner, but I can’t stay over, I have to be back by one.” I huff with exasperation.
“Why? Do you turn into a pumpkin?” He grins, and I laugh out loud, but he goes to lower himself on to the sofa.
“I’m definitely the pumpkin in that fairy tale,” I mutter. “No, I do have some bits I can’t do in the day, and I do better at night.” His grin w
idens, so I add, “Without interruption. Dinner would be lovely. An evening with you would be more so, but, please, I need to be home by one.” My final plea has him hovering above his seat before he stands up.
“You know, Miss Thorne, I am going to put that begging to much better use.” He reaches me, and I tilt my head to maintain eye contact as he towers above me. His eyes are dark and deep; he reaches his hands to my face, leaning in, his warm mouth covers mine. A small moan escapes, and I feel my knees weaken. His strong arms encase my small frame, and he holds me against his tight body. The heat and desire I feel build from my toes and course through my veins. My heart starts racing as his tongue swirls and laps at mine, devouring every bit of me with sweet tender adoration. His lips are soft, and he captures mine lightly between his teeth and draws my bottom lip as he moves away. I am chilled by the loss of his heat and hot from the intensity of his kiss. I sag and whimper as he turns to leave. “Until tomorrow. And Bethany?”
“Yes?” I can barely hear my own words.
“Answer your fucking phone!” His demand is clear, and as I hear the door slam and click locked, I answer.
“Not an option tonight!” I softly reply, glad he doesn’t hear.
I’m naked in bed with my phone in front of me. It’s twelve fifty-nine. My phone starts to ring, and I answer exactly on one.
“Sir.”
“Good evening, Lola.” His voice sounds deeper than the other night, but the background echo remains.
I was unaware of my nerves until his smooth voice calms me. “Good evening, Sir.”
“I have missed talking to you this weekend. Have you been a good girl?”
“I don’t believe I have, Sir.”
“Really? Interesting.” He draws in a slow breath before he continues. “Would you like to tell me what you are wearing for me tonight?”
“Sir, I am naked and lying in my bed”--I pause--“waiting for your call.” I smile because I am happy that I am not telling a lie.
“I like that, but tell me, did the items I sent you not fit?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I haven’t tried them on.” I feel a flush of embarrassment at this rudeness.
“Is that how you show your gratitude for gifts?”
“No, Sir.” I don’t think it’s appropriate to give excuses, given the nature of this type of conversation.
“No, I agree. I would like you to put the first set I sent you on, now. Please put your phone on speaker, and I want you to tell me everything you are doing.”
“Yes, Sir.” I press the speaker button and place the phone on my pillow. I retrieve the box from the corner of my room and remove the bra and panties. “It’s quite beautiful, Sir. The black lace is very delicate. I am slipping the panties up my legs and over my hips. The material is soft and sits high on the arch of my hip. It’s very flattering; it makes my legs look longer. The bra is a little tricky, and I am having to slip it over my head because of the multiple straps. The lace lifts my breasts and holds them firmly. They look more prominent.”
“Are your nipples hard, Lola?” His voice is like gravel.
“Yes Sir, they are. They ache a little. The delicate lace moves over the sensitive ends and I can feel tingles shoot through me.” I feel warm inside because again it feels good to tell the truth. “The straps that cross my body make me feel like I’m being restrained.”
“And how does that feel, Lola?” He pauses before he says my name, like he is having trouble with it for some reason.
“I like the way it makes me feel, excited with anticipation.” My breathing is becoming a little deeper.
“Good. Now, Lola, I want you to lie back down on your bed.” He pauses until he hears no more movement. “You will know by now that I have pre-booked all your calls and I will continue to do so. I don’t like to share.” I get a shiver at this sentiment. Daniel has expressed the same with the same determined tone, but my caller sounds nothing like Daniel. His voice is low and deep, and Daniel’s is raw, like pure undiluted sex. He continues. “Sometimes I may not call but I will know you are waiting for me. That makes me hard and you will spend the time thinking about that, do you understand?” My breath hitches, and I swallow to clear my throat.
“Yes, Sir.” I am thinking about that now, but it’s Daniel in my head, it’s his perfect body I crave, and his hard cock I want inside me.
“I want you to tell me about what you want, Lola, what you like, and how that makes you feel. Remember, I will know if you are lying, and I won’t be happy.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, I don’t think I understand.” I think it’s better to be upfront rather than start saying something wrong and get into trouble. I want to do what he asks. I want to please him.
“All right, Lola, I’ll help you a little. Do you like it when I tell you what to do? Do you like your hair held in a tight fist when you are kissed? Do you-”
“-Sir, I can take it from here,” I interrupt with a slight moan. “I like it when you give me instructions. It makes me happy to please you. I want to please you. I like to be pushed with the weight of your body against a wall or on to the bed. I love it that you force my legs apart with your legs and push your body against mine. It makes me hot that I can feel how much you want to fuck me, it makes me wet.” I swallow. God, this is liberating. “I love that you hold my hands tight above my head and tease me with your delicious mouth, kissing from my ear and along my neck. I love it when you can’t control the growl that comes from deep in your throat, and I love it when you bite down on my neck like you want to devour me. When you hold your hot mouth just out of my reach, it drives me insane, and I beg for your kiss. I love that you make me so desperate that I have to beg. It makes me need you so much, and I hate that it makes me need you.” Shit, I can’t believe I said that. Can I take it back? Maybe he didn’t catch it, it was a long list. I continue. “I like when you dominate me, when you make demands. I like when you restrain me, tie my hands and my legs wide so I am open for you, exposed and vulnerable. It makes me tremble that you have such control over my body, over my pleasure.” I draw in a deep breath as my heart pounds fiercely behind its cage.
“Lola? Have you ever been punished?” His voice is wickedly seductive.
“No, Sir.”
“How do you think you would feel about that?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. The thought excites me, the pain and pleasure excite me. Pleasing you excites me. But I don’t want to lie to you, Sir, so I can’t say for sure.”
“Good girl. You have given me a great deal to think about. Goodnight, Lola.”
“Have I pleased you, Sir?” I need to know.
“Yes, Lola, very much. Sleep well.” The line goes dead, and I let out a relieved sigh. I honestly don’t know what is going on with me. Why I need his approval, why I feel genuinely happy when I have pleased him, and why I feel so hot at the thought of the things I listed that I would love him--well ,would love Daniel--to do to me.
I GRAB MY light grey yoga pants and Ramones T-shirt, scrape my hair high on my head, and skip downstairs. I overslept, not a huge surprise given my weekend, and luckily I’m due to help in the kitchen this morning, so my appearance is not a priority. I slink into the store cupboard and emerge with an armful of vegetables, hoping no one will notice I’m late.
“It’s no good trying that trick, girl. You’d have to get up a whole heap earlier to pull that one over on me, and”--Joe looks at his watch--“that didn’t happen this morning, did it, Bets?” His kind eyes betray his reprimanding tone.
“I’ll work extra hard Joe, promise.” I smile my biggest smile, hoping to charm him a little. I still have to ask for a shift change.
“You always work hard, girl.” He grins, then barks, “Get to work!” By ten thirty I’ve prepped the vegetables and salads, and I’m just about to grab a coffee, when the doorbell to the back entrance rings. I open the door to a group of workmen who proceed to stream past me and into the corridor. Anthony, Jr., comes out of his office and starts to
direct the men to the shower room and up the stairs.
“Oh, morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling today?” I cringe a little at this since I know it’s a direct result of my meltdown on Sunday, and I am not sure how much Marco has disclosed to his older brother; knowing Marco, it’s probably just enough.
“Anthony, I’m fine, thanks. Good, actually.” I certainly sound chipper. “What’s with all the workmen?”
“Oh, that. It’s nothing. Fixing the shower door and some extra security.” He starts to back up into his office. “It’s been a long time coming.” Just as he shuts his door, I jump in front of it to prevent him from closing it.
“Anthony, this has nothing to do with me, does it? You’re not going to all this expense for me?” I am just about to die of embarrassment if that’s the case.
“Not at all sweetheart. You can check with Dad. We had this planned for a long time, just had to shuffle which of the restaurants we were going to trial it in, and, lucky you, you get to be guinea pig!” He ruffles my hair, and I’m instantly at ease. I would hate to think Sofia’s dad was having to pay because I went a little ‘postal’.
“Oh, okay.” I am a little relieved.
“Bets, I need you to do me a favour, though?” He flicks through his phone like he is looking for some information.
“Anything.” I reply but he still doesn’t look at me.
“Can you work through? I was landed with Marco’s Ski crowd group booking at lunch. The little shit gives me no notice, and even gets Mama to call it in, so I can’t refuse. You can have tonight off in exchange. I’ll fix it with Joe.” He lifts his head with a grin, but I have already agreed.
