by Sadey Quinn
I decide I’m not going to beat myself up for it. “That’s David’s job,” something in my brain announced, and I blushed, knowing I was right.
But still. I make a point today to swing by her desk to say ’hey’.
“Rachel!” she squeals when she sees me. “Perfect. Hang on a sec, I have something for you.” She scrounges through a messy-looking purse the size of a car door and pulls out a crisp black portfolio.
The girl has a portfolio. I seriously underestimated her.
I thumb through it. She’s good. She has a lot to learn, but she’s good.
When the following Wednesday rolls around, I arrive five minutes early to my meeting with Sandy, the lady in HR who runs the scholarship program. She isn’t busy, and waves me into her office with a smile. I explain my chance discovery of Aria’s talent and show Sandy the portfolio. She instantly agrees to put Aria on the list.
“Really?” I ask, surprised it was that easy.
“Yeah. There’s a board that decides on recipients. It helps she’s been working here for such a long time. I’ll just need her high school and any college transcripts, and she needs to write an essay. Here,” Sandy says, handing me a single sheet of paper. “You can give this to her. The board meets next month, so the sooner she can get me the documents, the better.”
“Thanks, Sandy,” I exclaim, taking the paper. “Thanks so much!”
Elated, I invite Aria out to lunch. This is something worth celebrating.
Aria’s mascara is smudged when she meets me by the front door of our office building. She notices me noticing it, and looks away. But I know that smudge.
“Hey,” I say, pulling her in for a hug. “What happened?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. Nothing happened. Just…Jeremy…”
“What did he do?” I demand, pulling away and holding her at an arm’s length. “Tell me.”
“He’s just a jerk, Rachel. I don’t want to get into it..” She pulls my arm. “How ‘bout you distract me instead?” She forces a smile.
I decide not to press her for information. We walk to Nigel’s, a brewpub across the street. The scholarship information will be a perfect distraction.
Aria winces as she slides into the booth across from me and I look at her curiously.
“Did you…?”
She nods, sheepish. “Yeah. Yesterday afternoon.”
I blush, feeling embarrassed to know she was just spanked. By my boyfriend.
“It’s still weird for you, isn’t it?” she asks.
“I think it’s a little weird for all of us.” I feel the heat on my cheeks and will it to fade.
“It really does help me, but I know it can’t be easy for you.”
“It’s just hard to understand the dynamic…” My voice trails off and I’m suddenly silenced by shyness. Did she really want me to talk about my boyfriend with her?
“Understand what dynamic?” she asks. I hear genuineness in her voice.
“It’s weird. With us, the spanking is…you know…intimate. But with his clients, he’s so professional…”
“That’s true. Rach, I assure you, he has never been anything but strictly professional with me.”
I can’t believe how good it feels to hear her say this.
“How’d it change for you, when you decided to date him?”
“Well…he’s dominant with me, with day to day decisions and things. I’m still getting used to that. He can also spank me whenever he wants. Which is good and bad.”
“Wait, so you don’t schedule it?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“So he can just…decide…that you deserve one?”
I nod. Suddenly I’m nervous. She’s right. There’s a distinct difference between scheduling one’s own discipline with a professional and having a boyfriend spank you when he thinks you need it.
Is Aria going to judge me? Think I’m weak?
She takes it in slowly.
“Well,” she finally says, “that is pretty fucking cool.”
Exhaling with relief, I smile at her. “I’m glad you think so. I’ll admit, it’s taking some getting used to.”
“So did you get spanked for drinking the other day?”
I feel myself blush even more. “Yeah.”
“Interesting. I bet I would like that kind of relationship.”
“Really?” I ask hopefully.
“Yeah. I mean, there’s something comforting in the idea, at least. Having someone hold that power over me…not controlling my decisions, exactly, but punishing me if I make bad ones. How does it feel for you?”
“It’s comfortable, like you said. With David…well, you know David. It’s just right. He’s so calm and level-headed. He’s always careful. Sure, he makes mistakes. But he admits it, and we move on. One thing I do know is that if I ever disagreed with him about a punishment, he wouldn’t go through with it. He doesn’t abuse me. I mean, he hasn’t punished me often, but when he spanks me just because I need that release, I always agree with him. So far, at least.”
Aria smiles, and I feel incredibly happy to be sharing this with her. Finally, someone who understands. I’m not such a freak, not so unusual. She would like this kind of thing, too!
“Well,” I say, reaching for my folder with her scholarship information, “this isn’t the reason I asked you to lunch. Here, take a look at this. Sandy, from Human Resources, thinks you have a good chance of getting this, if you want to apply.”
She takes the paper from me and her eyes widen as she reads.
“Are you serious, Rachel?”
“Very serious.”
“No, say it again. Are you fucking serious, Rachel?” Her grin is huge, engulfing her face.
“I am absolutely fucking serious, Aria!” We both crack up.
“Sandy says you should get your paper work in as soon as possible,” I say when I can breathe again. “If you want, I’ll proofread your essay for you before you submit it.”
“Yeah, that’d be great,” she says, tucking the paper into her purse.
On our way back to the office, I decide to prod her more about Jeremy.
“Spill it,” I say. She got me to talk about David, after all. I find myself hoping she’s comfortable enough to open up.
“It’s weird. He just…he said he can probably get me a raise.”
I feel my eyebrows arch with disbelief. “Really?”
“Yeah. If I…do some extra work for him.”
“What extra work?”
“That’s the thing. I know what he’s trying to insinuate. But I don’t have enough on him to call him out. He says sometimes he works from home, and maybe if I can put in extra hours with him, outside of the office—“
“Ew!” I say, cutting her off.
“Yeah. Ew.” She fiddles with her purse strap. “He told me that this morning. But it isn’t just that. Everyday it’s something. Some comment. Or ‘accidentally’ touching me. Asking me to get things for him that I know he doesn’t really need. Commenting on my outfits, sometimes in front of male clients. It’s just wrong.”
I think for a minute. “So here’s what you do. Record everything. The daily comments, the compliments, the time and date, all of it. Especially if they’re overheard by clients or other employees. If you get enough compiled, and keep it organized, you can make an official complaint.”
“Okay,” she agrees. “It would be great if someone could actually do something about it.”
“And another thing, Aria? Jot down that you told me about this today. I can come in and corroborate that part at least, if someone needs me to.”
“Thanks, Rachel. I mean it. Thank you.” She gives me a quick hug before hopping out of my car.
“It’s the least I can do.”
~10~
David
Rachel and I are heading to my parent’s place for a family dinner tonight.
I drive, and Rachel sits beside me in a low-cut blood-red summer dress. It shows off her cleava
ge just enough to make me want to rip the dress off but not enough to be inappropriate for a family gathering.
I love her. She’s the perfect girl to bring home to my parents. I squeeze her leg when we’re at a red light. She smiles back, lost in her own thoughts.
We’re the last to arrive. Marilyn has brought along some oddball date—Alexander—and I’ve discovered that he’s an accountant who ’adores the French cinema’ when Marilyn shushes me away,. I join Rachel, who’s gabbing with Erin and Mitchell.
Erin is starting to show. She’s definitely glowing. I’m so happy for them, and I notice a new sparkle in Mitchell’s eyes. He’s going to be a great dad.
I smell something cheesy baking in the kitchen and join Mom to see if she needs a hand. She hands me a peeler and a cucumber and I head to the sink. I was always the kid to help her in the kitchen—it’s how I learned to be a decent cook. The kitchen is where Mom and I have had our best conversations, and our worst fights.
I like to remember the best, though.
“So, Marilyn told me you two went ring shopping,” she says in a low voice so no one can overhear.
“Did she?” I frown and look out of the kitchen, across the room. Marilyn glances up, meets my eyes, and her expression goes from happy to guilty. I glare. She shrugs.
I turn back to Mom. “She wasn’t supposed to. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad she did. I want to show you something.” She slips her hand in mine and leads me down the hall to her bedroom. Inside, she shuts the door quietly and walks to her bureau. In the upper left drawer, she feels under the neatly folded clothing and fishes out a small box.
Opening it, she turns back to me.
“This belonged to my grandmother. I never saw her without it on. When she died, this was the one item I asked to keep. When Marilyn told me about you and Rachel, it was the first thing I thought of. I’ll understand if you don’t like it. But if you want to give this to Rachel, it’s yours.”
It is beautiful.
“Is it silver?” I ask, gingerly picking it up to take a closer look.
“Platinum, David,” Mom replies, as though I should have known that.
It’s a thin band, perfect for Rachel’s delicate fingers. The diamond sits in prongs above the ring, sparkling at me. On either side are two small opals, ‘oval cut’, as I learned from Marilyn the other day, with flashes of blue and green and red that seem to glow. The platinum swirls over one opal and under the other, circling the diamond in a leaf pattern.
I shake my head. “Mom, this is too much. It’s too…” I don’t even know what to say.
“Perfect? You’re right, it is perfect. It would make me so happy if Rachel wore it, David. My little way of welcoming her to the family.”
I hug her tight, not taking my eyes off the ring, and ask the question I can only ask my mom.
“What if she says no?” I whisper.
“Living life is facing risk,” she says, not really answering me.
I follow her back to the kitchen, the ring nestled safely in my pocket.
When we’re all crowded around Mom and Dad’s mahogany dining room table, barely squeezing in, I imagine what it’ll be like when there’s a little boy or girl sitting on Erin’s lap. Our family is about to change. We’re evolving.
I look at Rachel, her vibrant smile as she listens to some joke Ryan’s making, and I just know that she’s going to be a part of that evolution.
She has to be, because I have no idea what I’d do without her.
On the way home, Rachel talks non-stop about Aria and how excited she is, and then about the beach and how Samantha and Sam’s boyfriend (whose name I always forget) are going, and how Marilyn made this funny comment about so-and-so.
I eye her suspiciously.
“How much wine did you have?”
“Four glasses,” she says, smiling at me smugly. “You were with me!”
Rolling my eyes and laughing, I nod and make a note to add clauses to the rules. Like, don’t get drunk for no reason other than to spite me. However, lucky for her, I find her behavior cute. Like she’s asking for trouble, but in a very careful way.
At home, we bee-line for the bedroom after saying hello to Sparky and grabbing a glass of water. As much as I want to get the amazing red dress off Rachel’s body as fast as possible, I slip into the bathroom to get naked myself, taking care to fold my jeans and put them where Rachel won’t mess with them. I don’t want her finding the ring before the right time.
Rachel is completely irresistible ninety-nine percent of the time. Rachel, naked and tipsy, is insanely irresistible. She starts humming and doing a little dance for me, the dress now a heap on the floor, as she moves her hips from side to side.
“God, you’re sexy,” I growl, picking her up and throwing her onto the bed.
She squeals and laughs as I climb on top of her. I kiss her hard and she moans into my mouth, quivering under the weight of my body. I know she can feel my erection on her thigh.
“I love that you’re mine,” I breathe, breaking away from the kiss and sitting up long enough to ease her black panties down her long, smooth legs. Then I lay back beside her, hooking my leg over her waist, pulling her close so her body, her heat, presses against mine.
She stares up at me, into my eyes. “I love you,” she says.
“I love you, too, baby.”
Slowly, teasingly, I touch her with the very tips of my fingers. I run my fingernails across her breasts, just flickering against her nipple, and a soft gasp escapes her lips. The movement of her hips, gyrating ever so slightly, is subtle. So subtle I doubt she even knows she’s doing it. Her thighs part when my hands make my way down, down, over her mound, between her legs…
“Rachel, you’re so beautiful,” I whisper, pushing a finger inside her. I slide down and flick my tongue along her clit, sucking her as I take her with my finger.
She arches her back and moans quietly.
I slide another finger inside and her moans deepen, strengthen. I’m working slowly, building her up. She’s so much fun to tease, to play with.
After just a few more minutes she looks down at me, pleading with her eyes.
“What do you want?” I ask, though I know full well what she wants.
“Please…please fuck me,” she whispers, her voice throaty, full of lust.
When I slip inside of her, both of us gasp in pleasure. She comes almost instantly, wrapping her legs around me tight as her entire body tenses and trembles.
“Keep going,” she begs.
I fuck her like that, through three more orgasms, before rolling over and pulling her with me. She sits on top of me, staring into my eyes, moving her hips against me.
God, nothing compares to this. Watching her body, her soul, as I’m inside her. Watching her use my erection for her pleasure…she leans back just a little and groans as another orgasm ripples through her body.
I can’t take it anymore. I grip her hips hard and explode inside her, making her cry out in raw pleasure as her orgasm rides through mine.
We collapse, our legs mingling, our arms wrapped around each other. I’m still inside her, semi-hard, and I feel her pulse around me.
I could do this every night for the rest of my life and never once get sick of it.
“So, they’re heading to the beach, huh?” I say, bringing us both back to reality.
“Yeah.”
“Should we join them?”
She pulls her head from my chest and looks at me excitedly. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Why not? A friend of mine from college actually has a house there he rents out. I’ll see if it’s available.”
“Sam’s gonna freak. This is exciting!”
“His house is pretty big, too. Maybe I’ll see if Mitchell and Erin want to come. Or would that intrude on Sam’s plan?”
“Not at all! Sam loves your family. Maybe I should call her,” she says, starting to sit up.
“No, no, b
aby…” I grasp her torso and pull her back down, into my arms. “Call her tomorrow.”
I hold her until she relaxes completely. Soon, I hear her steady breathing and know she’s asleep.
Laying there, staring at her, I think about getting down on one knee and holding the ring out to her. The proposal.
I sit up straight, completely jolted out of the post-sex late-night haze I’d been in. I’m wide awake now, and I reach for my cell phone, my brain buzzing with an idea.
Creeping out of the bedroom so I don’t disturb Rachel, I call my friend, Darrell, who owns the beach-house.
“Sure, you can use the house. Key is in the normal spot. Hey, while you’re there, will you check for flooding by the back patio? There was a huge storm a few days ago and I haven’t gotten out there to make sure there’s no damage.”
“Of course, I’ll make sure everything’s okay,” I assure him. “Listen, Darrell…I need a favor.”
Darrell, who’s been a friend for years but whom I have barely even mentioned Rachel to, listens quietly as I explain my plan.
And of course, as I’d expect, he readily agrees to help.
~11~
Rachel
Before turning her essay in to Sandy, Aria gives it to me. I read it over my lunch break. It’s got heart, but, as I’d expect from Aria, it needs some editing.
On my way out for the day, I swing by Jeremy’s office to find her.
“Hey, can you email me the file? If you want, I can suggest some edits. It’ll just be easier if I can type them right in.”
“You mean change it?” She looks a bit panicked.
“Yeah, but you’ll be able to see the changes. You’ll have to agree to them. There’s a thing you’ll click.”
“Oh…okay. Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
I smile and turn to leave.
“Rachel?” Aria’s soft voice calls me back.
“Yeah?”
“Did you hear of any other openings? For maybe…transferring me?”
“Not yet,” I say, “but I’m keeping my eyes open.”
“Okay.”
I really hope Aria can hang on until she finishes the design program. My new secretary, Terry, on the other hand, better not be hiding any secret ambitions, because I’d be lost without her. Since Terry’s been on board, I’ve noticed improvements everywhere: my team shows up for meetings on time; I never seem to be out of sync with my clients’ latest whims, and we even manage to get birthday cards signed and delivered to peoples’ desks on the right day.
