by CD Reiss
The sun had moved the tiniest bit, but it was enough to send the set into a frenzy of moved scrims and recalibrated light. Men and women in black T-shirts carried reflectors, floods, light meters, shouting numbers and pointing at the sky.
I detoured around them, coming up against the greenhouse. I looked inside as I passed it. Mostly orchids, and a long bed of wheatgrass that was probably sold to a local health food store.
I stopped, because the wheatgrass had taken on a few weeds and, against all odds, they’d flowered.
Dandelions.
Chapter 19
I was on 57th Street at midday in high heels and a collar. It was cold as hell, and I felt exposed to more than the elements. Exposed by what, I didn’t know. By the insecurity I’d accused Serena of.
Dad’s texts speared that exposure, getting right in the crack in my armor, puncturing me where I was weak.
—Guy came with paperwork
for Adam. I opened it. Sorry.
Probate closed on a property
in South Brooklyn—
—I’m home the rest of the day.
Kayti taught me how to use
the internet. Should I have it
couriered to him?—
Fuck this. There was only one reason Dad would go into the office and just turn around and go home. I might be losing my husband to a supermodel. I wasn’t losing my company or my father.
“Dad?” I said into the phone.
“Peanut.” His breath rattled like an old train.
“I’ll give it to him.”
“I left it on your desk.”
“I was going to come by and tell you this, but I can’t. Don’t talk. I’m taking care of the company. You can’t work anymore.”
He coughed, and I cringed at the sound.
“I’m not digging ditches,” he said. “I sit on my ass all day and make decisions.”
The last vowel came in a wheeze. Shit. The stubborn motherfucker.
“Dad…”
“I stay home when I need to. It’s fine. Stop babying me.”
“Do you not trust me to run it without Adam? Just say it. Say you think I’m incompetent.”
“Peanut, it’s a big company in the middle of a lot of change.”
“Great. That’s just great.”
“I’m very proud of you.”
I didn’t tell him to fuck himself, because he was sick and he was my father. But I was going to. The words were on the back of my teeth and about to break through. So I hung up and waited until the call was cut completely before letting go.
“Go fuck yourself.”
Saying it didn’t make me feel good. Not even a little. I felt like shit. I stared at the phone, wondering if he’d call back.
He didn’t. Good. I wouldn’t know what to say to him without fighting. I didn’t want to fight with my father.
I caught a cab across town to R+D.
Chapter 20
Adam Steinbeck. My husband. A man I’d shared a bed with for years. A man I would have used fine, fine adjectives to describe a month earlier was now a stranger to me.
If not a stranger, a more evolved form of himself.
Or he was the same, and I had evolved.
Or both/neither/all/nothing.
I’d sat in boardrooms and conferences, obsessed with how I presented myself. Was I strong enough? Confident enough? Was I listening? Talking when it counted? Did I seem bitchy, sharp, entitled?
I should have watched him the way I did from his office. The door was open, and the conference room was across the hall. The blinds were open. He sat at the head of the conference table with four people. Papers everywhere. A whiteboard filled with cryptic lists and notes.
He was everything in his grey suit and red tie. He came from nothing and became everything.
He saw me through the window and the hall as I leaned on his desk. I wasn’t being suggestive, but I felt his desire.
The Adam I’d shared a bed with for years was a good man. I would have used fine adjectives to describe him. Trustworthy. Loyal. Steady.
This Adam didn’t bring those things to mind. Handsome. Confident. Powerful. Infusing the spaces he touched with licorice and leather.
I’d come to his office unbidden because my conversation with Serena had scared me. She wanted him, and she’d implied… no… I’d inferred too much from my conversation with her and the presence of an impossible dandelion. I wouldn’t have bat an eyelash at any of this when I was with the Adam I knew before. But now, I wasn’t so sure how much of that guy was left or what this one wanted. How much of his confidence let him cover lies. How much of his power would he abuse?
He got up from the meeting, said a few words, held the door open for his colleagues, and stepped through the hall as if he owned the air.
“Hello,” I said when he crossed the threshold.
He didn’t answer. He closed the door. Locked it. Dropped his folder on the long table in front of the couch. Closed the blinds to the left, then the right. Only when we were fully alone did he face me.
My heart was going to shatter my ribs, but I stayed still, more or less. Even when his eyes removed my clothes and his body hovered in the space like a predator sizing up its prey, I didn’t move.
He rested his gaze on the pearls on my throat. “Diana.”
I would have responded if I could breathe. I’d come to challenge him, and I didn’t think I’d have the strength to do it.
“Get on your knees.”
My knees obeyed, bending, holding my weight, while the space between my legs throbbed. I didn’t have a chance to think.
“It’s not two thirty.” He came close to me. His cock was three inches and a layer of fabric away.
I leaned toward it. “I skipped an appointment.”
“Why?”
“I want to talk to you.”
He took me by the chin and made me look up at him. “Standard etiquette.”
“What?”
“Standard etiquette is I put my cock down your throat then punish you for coming here when you weren’t supposed to. I make you wait to talk to me until I’m satisfied you understand your place.” He let my face go.
“Understand my place?” Even from my knees, I looked down on him and his attitude.
“Yes.” He held out his hand. I took it, and he helped me up. “But you’re a whole new way of doing things.”
“The old way could get a guy throat-punched.”
“Speaking of throats.” He touched the pearl choker. “This is beautiful. You look thoroughly possessed.”
“I’m thoroughly pissed, actually.”
“You may be untrainable, huntress. Sit.”
I sat on the couch, and he sat on the matching chair perpendicular to it.
“You were supposed to wait for me to call you,” he said.
“I saw Serena today.”
“At the shoot?”
I was surprised he didn’t give me some open-ended answer like “huh,” or “really?” He let me know right off the bat that he knew where Serena was today.
“At the shoot.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I had to tell her something, and I wanted to do it in person. And you know what? I got the distinct impression she thinks that when you and I are through here, she’s taking over.”
“Subs don’t take over.”
“You know what I mean. And I left thinking she was nuts, but then… I have to ask you something. It’s the middle of winter. Where did you find a dandelion?”
“Did you like it?”
“I didn’t understand it.”
“It was a last-minute inspiration this morning. You’re all wound up. It’s very sexy.” He raised his foot and wedged it between my knees, pushing them open.
“Where did you find the inspiration?”
“Dandelions are the most nourishing weed in the garden. You can practically live on them. If you close your legs, I’ll stop explaining.”
I opened
my legs and crossed my arms. He bent at the waist, put both hands under my knees, and pulled me to the edge of the couch.
“I could have left you a hothouse flower. An orchid or something high maintenance. But think about it. This underappreciated weed grows and grows. You can’t kill it. You can try, and it comes back time after time like a big middle finger in the lawn.”
“You don’t even have a lawn.”
He put his hands on my crossed arms and exerted pressure down until I uncrossed them.
“We had one when I was growing up. We ate them with olive oil and salt.” He slid off the chair and kneeled in front of me. Pulled my skirt up slowly. “They are delicious.” He kissed inside my thigh. “They are tenacious and beautiful, just like you.”
He kissed between my legs, pressing his lips to the soaked fabric of my underwear. I gasped and dug my fingers into his scalp.
“Hands under your bottom,” he said.
I wedged them under my ass. He pulled my panties to the slide and licked the length of my seam.
“I’m not…” I fell into a groan when his tongue flicked me. “A dandelion.”
“They come and come and come.”
He sucked my clit with a constant pressure, but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of my pleasure for free.
“Where did you get it?” I squeaked.
“Beg to come.”
“Please.”
“Beg harder.”
He took me with the flat of his tongue then flicked again. I felt every movement, every breath. My body wanted to come, but every fiber of my soul wanted more.
“Please tell me. Just tell me. Please,” I said.
“To come, beg to—”
“Tell me, I’m begging you! I forgive you, I promise!”
He worked me like an instrument. I could barely breathe.
“Tell me where you got it. Please.”
“I’ll tell you. Now come.”
His word was good enough. When he laid his mouth on me again, I let loose with an arching back and a scream I had to bite back.
With barely a second to let me come down, he stood and took me by the arm, pulling me to the floor. I was on my knees in front of him before I had a chance to think.
“I own the building the shoot was on. I went this morning to make sure the permits were cleared. The dandelion was in the greenhouse on the roof. You can check the deeds with the city.” He tilted my face up to him.
“The owner of the building goes to check the permits? Please. Give me a break.”
“She was nervous about the net. She wanted me to look at them. I’m aware that I don’t know anything about hanging a net on the side of a building. I know she was manipulating me. But if something happened, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. So I went.”
“Did she try to sleep with you?”
“Yes.”
“What did she do?” I asked.
“Why are you asking this?”
“I’m curious.”
“She got on her knees. I told her to get up. She asked why. I told her I’d had her already. I didn’t want a second go round. I was an asshole.”
“I don’t think it worked.”
“That’s how it goes with emotional masochists.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Open your mouth.”
“She thinks when our contract is up, she’s going to be yours.”
“I said open your mouth.” He undid his trousers. “I didn’t say talk with it.”
His dick was out, and my mouth watered for it.
“Adam, I can’t do this if you’re making plans for after.”
“I’m not making any plans. But Diana, hear me. We can’t ever be what we were. I explained this. Do you understand it?”
“If you want my full attention, I need yours.”
He took my chin again, pressing his fingers into my cheeks. “You have it. Open your mouth.”
I opened, pressing the back of my tongue down for the length and girth of his cock. He thrust into me, taking my throat repeatedly, letting me breathe, then fucking my mouth again.
“Deep breath. I’m coming,” he growled.
I took a deep breath and opened up all the way.
He fucked my face, holding me still while he thrust. “Fuck. Coming so hard down your throat. Swallow it.” I felt the first spatter on the roof of my mouth, and he slid against it to go deep. “Take it all.”
He took his dick out, and I swallowed every last drop.
“There’s no one else,” he said, running his fingers through my hair as I licked him clean, looking up at his beautiful, satisfied face. “I’m doing this with you. One hundred percent. I’m training you to leave me again.”
I took him in my mouth so I wouldn’t answer that I was the one who was training him.
Chapter 21
“I put something in the mail for you today,” Stefan said. Opera came through the phone as I turned the key in my front door.
“Should I be excited?” I swung the door open.
“You’re a third of the way to membership in the Cellar.”
“Thank you! One down. Two to go.” I flicked the lamps on, bathing the loft in warm light. “I spoke to Serena this morning. I don’t think I convinced her of much.”
“She saw me today. We spoke. That was all I wanted. Thank you.”
We hung up without me telling him Adam might have been the reason Serena saw him. There was already too much personal information flowing between the four of us.
As I circumnavigated the loft, I got back to the front door and made sure it was locked.
Two white envelopes had been slipped under the door and pushed forward when it swung open. I opened the one with the McNeill-Barnes logo. Just like Dad said, it was a Withdrawal of Claim and Order blah blah for an address in Brooklyn pursuant to etc etc yada yada.
The other envelope was the size of an invitation. I ripped it open.
The note was in a deeply masculine handwriting, so neat it was nearly generic. The words were underlined in the same felt top pen. I flipped the card, looking for more. Nothing. I put the note on the dining room table and stripped down. Everything came off. Even the pearl choker. I didn’t realize I’d been smiling through the whole process until I was putting my underwear in the hamper and caught sight of myself in the mirror.
I would have looked longer, but the lock on the front door clicked. I ran through the big, open space on the balls of my feet and crouched in the threshold between the loft space and the bedrooms, out of the way of the open door.
With my face to the floor and my arms stretched in front of me, I couldn’t see. I coud only hear his footsteps, the closing door, the lock, his voice.
“I see you were thinking of me.”
I didn’t want to talk to the floor and I didn’t want to move, so I gave him a thumbs-up. He laughed with a tolerance for bad humor I’d never tire of.
The warmth of his hand spread across the middle of my back. “Stand up. I want to look at you.”
I stood, keeping my eyes on the floor. He wore his black shoes. The tops were spotted with rain. He picked up my chin and looked at me while he stroked my lower lip with his thumb.
“Did you ever imagine this scene right here?” he asked. “You naked and kneeling when I came in the door?”
“No. Not while we were living together. But since Montauk, it’s all I can think about.”
He drew the backs of his fingers across my cheek and down my neck. “You took the pearls off.”
“Naked is as naked does.”
He smiled, brushing his hands across my breasts, tightening the nipples. “Where’s the box?”
“In my bag.”
He took his hand away and undid his tie. “Do you want to open it?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not ready.” He slid the tie from his collar and came behind me. “Keep carrying it around until I tell you to stop.”
He put the tie over my eyes and knotted the back. The w
orld went dark, and I went liquid. Was he going to do the thing I’d seen on the screen? Lead me by his touch?
He put his hands on the sides of my face. I felt his breath and tasted his tongue as he kissed me. Maybe he thought he didn’t love me, but his body told me he did. Or maybe together we’d redefined love. Maybe we’d evolved from desire to love to need, because our kiss was nothing if not needy.
He slid his thumb between our lips and put it in my mouth, breaking the lock of the kiss. I sucked his thumb, and he pulled it away. I kept it in my mouth, following into the loft. One step, two, letting him lead me around blindfolded. I trusted him to keep me safe in sightlessness.
The momentum forward stopped and became a right turn, a spin, a disorienting five steps in a direction I couldn’t be sure of. Then forward a step. One turn. Two. I was lost, naked, and blind with nothing but his thumb in my mouth to guide me.
I yanked away. “Sorry. Before I forget…”
“Yes?”
“Some legal documents came to the office today. Dad opened them. He was totally snooping.”
“Where?”
“Foyer table.”
“Don’t move.”
I didn’t. His feet stayed where they were while his hand stroked every inch of my body. I thought he’d forgotten the envelope, but when he’d activated every cell of my skin, making me hot and tingly, he went to the foyer. His heels clicked on the hardwood. Four times. My nervous system sent signals outward, toward his heat as papers crackled, folded, and fell onto the dining room table.
“Lean forward. Hands down. Fingers spread.”
Wait. Was I grabbing my ankles? Was I near the windowsills?
As if seeing my hesitation, Adam spoke. “Trust me.”
Okay. I was going to trust him. I put my arms out, spread out my fingers, and leaned forward. My hands hit the coffee table, and I laughed to myself. “I thought I was across the room.”
He pressed my lower back down, making me raise my ass for the hundredth time. “We’re going to really work on your posture. The purpose is to keep you mindful of your body, so… lower back down. Ass up. Legs”—he kicked my feet apart—“at shoulder width. Look straight ahead. It elongates your neck and lets me see your tits.”
