by Karen Gordon
I’ve been on edge sexually for almost twenty-four hours and I’m actually starting to like it. Nerves are firing and my mind is completely focused on sex. I am want. I’m not thinking about much of anything else. It defines me. I’m only half hoping for some relief tonight.
✈ ✈ ✈
We sit on the bed with Sebastian behind me, both of us facing the picture window. He positions me so I’m firmly in his grasp. He uses his legs to open mine and keep them spread wide.
“Close your eyes.” That’s an easy one so I do.
He holds me in suspense and doesn’t do anything at first. Then he asks, “Do you know how beautiful and sexy you look?” His hands caress me everywhere but my erogenous zones. I don’t answer. I just lay back and breathe into this amazing sexual high I’m on. I feel like a goddess.
“You’re the star of the show.” I’m guessing he means I am the center of his attention but it seems like an odd way to put it.
“But you like that don’t you? You like being here with others watching you.” That stops me short because I don’t know if he is kidding. I’m in front of a picture window with no blinds or drapes. I start to sit up and open my eyes but he pulls me back down and brushes his hand over my lids to close them again. I got enough of a glimpse to see that no one is really out there. But, if they were…
I relax back into him and let my legs fall open. I moan and move against him as he works slow circles with his hands toward my nipples. “That’s it. Let them see how sexy you are.” I let loose and put on one hell of a show. I let Sebastian caress me and stroke me, building me toward orgasm. “Let ‘em hear you. They love it. You’re turning them on.”
I moan and pant loudly as I get closer. I want my fantasy audience to join me in ecstasy. “That’s it.” He encourages me. “They’re almost there, come for them.” He focuses on both my g-spot and my clit and I reach an insane height. I’m on the precipice about to fall. “That’s it babe, show them how beautiful you are.” And I fly, loudly, and ride wave after wave until I finally crash in a deep pool of joy and relief.
I leave my eyes closed for a few minutes and just float. Sebastian slides down next to me and wraps himself around me. He feels wonderfully warm and solid, tethering me so I don’t float away.
Chapter Fourteen
For once I wake up before Sebastian. I try to be quiet but he startles me as he asks, “Looking for something?”
I’m busted, caught with my hands in the cookie jar, or more accurately, his junk drawer. I turn to him. “Um…rope, or twine?”
He throws back the covers and comes over to help me without asking what it’s for. “I don’t know if I have any, maybe some fishing line.”
“That might do.”
My lack of surety prompts him to ask, “What do you need it for?”
I blush, something I was determined not to do. I was going to be all bold and I got this but now that I’ve opened this Pandora’s box it’s unnerving. “I was um, you know, thinking that you might want to tie me up…well, my hands at least.” I back away from the idea of being completely trussed up.
He stops looking in the drawer and leans against the counter. With one eyebrow raised he questions whether I really want this. “I could do that. Are you asking me to?”
Hells bells, are we really back to me having to ask for everything I want? It’s one thing to want. It’s another to voice it. I give it a go and try not to sound like I’m repeating a painfully memorized line. “Sebastian, will you please consider tying my hands up?”
He shrugs as if it’s an easy request. “Sure.” From the bottom drawer he brings out a roll of plastic wrap. I look at it like he’s crazy but I don’t say anything. “Turn around, hands behind your back.”
I do as he asks, feeling pretty damn proud of myself for taking this step. He pulls off a long sheet of wrap and uses it to secure my hands to each other. When he’s done I try to pull against it. It’s really secure but not too tight and it doesn’t cut off my blood supply. I’m impressed with his ingenuity. When he finishes he puts the tube back in the drawer, shuts it and goes into the bathroom.
I stand in the kitchen and dutifully wait to see what he’s going to do next. I hear the toilet flush then the sink running and him brushing his teeth. I’m getting impatient but I suck it up. On his way into the kitchen he scoots past me and starts the process of making a pot of coffee. Now I’m getting irritated. I’m naked and presenting myself to him like a Thanksgiving turkey and he’s ignoring me.
“So, I thought this was like your fantasy.” I lift my arms to remind him.
He turns to look at me. “You do look good like that.” Then he brushes past me again to get food from the refrigerator.
I walk over and push it closed with my foot. “So, seeing me like this doesn’t make you want to do things to me?” I can’t hide how pissy I’m feeling.
We stand there, completely silent for several minutes just looking at each other. I take a deep breath before calmly saying, “In New Orleans you told me that you wouldn’t tie me up unless I asked you to. I just did. I asked you to.”
This makes him smile. “Yes you did.” Then he pulls me to him. “And I gave you what you wanted. If you want more, you have to ask for that.”
“But I…” I start to protest and he stops me.
“Words, I like words, they are incredibly sexy. I think you liked my words last night.”
Oh my god, yes. Last night still would have been sexy without his imaginary scene, but that made it so much hotter. “You are really good at that,” I admit through a smile I can’t stop. “I don’t think I could do that. I’m not really good at imagining things on my own.”
He kisses me and whispers, “You don’t have to imagine. Just tell me what you want.”
“I want you.” I try to sound sexy as I say it.
“You’ve got me.” He counters.
Obviously I need to be more specific. “I want you to have sex with me.” I really need to get a thesaurus or take a poetry class. My words sound so dry.
“Define sex.” His sound inviting.
“I want you in me, fucking me, hard.” Now I sound like an excerpt from a letter to Penthouse, but it’s better than before.
He looks down at his flaccid cock. “I don’t think we are quite there yet. Do you want me to take over?”
I nod enthusiastically, not really thinking through what I’m signing up for.
“Will you follow my orders?”
I nod again and he stops me with a glare. “Yes.” I say.
“Good. Since you are restrained you need a safe word, what is it?”
“Die, mother-fucker?” The smart-ass in me rears up against his orders.
He ignores me. “How about red? Does that work for you?”
“Yes.” I try to let go of my instinct to fight him.
“Good. Now kneel down.”
It’s harder with my hands tied behind me, and he doesn’t offer to help. When I’m in position I look up at him and everything feels completely different. We are definitely in a game or scene or whatever you want to call it now. I am truly at his mercy and it’s very clear that he likes it. I am getting a rise out of him.
I do everything he asks, partially to push myself to meet this challenge and partially to get what I want. Being bound ratchets everything up a level. He is in control and I have to trust him. We have what he would call vanilla sex, but just having my hands tied makes it so much more. Normally it’s easy to skirt around talking and trusting but his games force that. I’m curious how much farther I will be willing to go with him.
✈ ✈ ✈
After a morning of intense, kinky sex and a very late breakfast we have to head back to New Orleans. I booked the last flight out so I could spend as much time with Sebastian as possible but I need to get home. Dom has been handling a ton of work on the house and she’s reached the point where she has to have input from me.
We also need to make one detour. I promised Carla
that I would stop by the cemetery and check on the headstone that we ordered. It was installed not long before her accident and it’s been on her mind. It’ll be a while before she will be able to drive herself her so I tell her that I’ll make sure it’s what we ordered.
On the way there I try to describe Big Mike Ramsey to Sebastian. I tell him stories about my childhood, the good ones. I leave off my teenage years when I was much more than a handful. When we reach his gravesite, I get my phone ready to take a few pictures so I can text them to Carla. I study the words. They are correct and really nothing different than most headstones but they reach me on a deep level.
I run my fingers over his name: Michael Patrick Ramsey. I knew his full name, of course, but I never thought much about it. I wonder if his mother called him Michael. These are the details I will never know.
The dates of his birth and death are physically perfectly spaced on the stone but feel way too close together. The world only got forty-eight years of him, it needed more. Truly giving people like my dad are rare. At the bottom it says: Father, Husband, Friend. I outline the words with my finger. It’s simple but profound because it defines him by what he was to others. He quietly lived for me, for Carla, for his friends.
I feel Sebastian come up and sit beside me. He doesn’t talk. Instead, he takes my other hand to remind me that he’s there if I need him.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him.
“Do you think he’s seen it?” We’ve never talked about our spiritual views and I’m really not sure how I would classify mine, so I give him the truth that I do know.
“I doubt it. He never was much for hanging around cemeteries.” I look around at the beautifully manicured lawn with so many formal headstones. “We only went to see my mom’s grave once or twice. He said it wasn’t necessary, that she wasn’t there.”
Sebastian nods and squeezes my hand.
“Sometimes, I feel like he’s with me. Not all the time. It’s like something happens in my life and I feel like he’s had a hand in it. He was like that in life—trying to guide me or help me in little ways. I just hope he knows how much more I appreciate it now.”
“My guess would be that he is very proud of you.”
I nod and freely let my tears fall and let Sebastian hold me. I no longer feel like I need to be the strongest person around, that I don’t need anyone to help me, and I’m pretty damn proud of myself for that. I hope my dad is too.
Epilogue
One Year Later…
I know that whirring and clicking sound; it’s all I’ve heard since I got home last week. There’s a long whir, then a series of clicks, more whirrs that are usually followed by a loud thump and Luis saying, “Sorry.” I’m not really even sure what it is. It’s some sort of remote control vehicle that Luis bought to entertain Marco. And although Marco does smile and gurgle when it’s spinning around the room, I truly think Luis got it to play with himself.
The sound of it must have invaded my brain because I can hear it now and I’m asleep (or half-asleep) in my room on the third floor. Luis never comes up here.
I roll over and hope it’s a dream, but I hear it again. I open one eye and look around my room. Ok, I’m not dreaming. There it is in the middle of my floor with a mug of coffee sitting on the flat pad on top. It’s slowly inching its way to my bed. I roll over and laugh and yell, “I’m awake.” Then I realize why it’s being used to bring me a cup of coffee. “And alone,” I add.
Dom leans her head in the door. “Not that I would mind seeing Smilin’ Pete naked, but I thought I should give him the option.” She looks around the room. “Speaking of Pete, where is he?” She glances toward the bathroom which is silent.
I lean off the side of the bed to grab my coffee from the robot and look for any evidence that he might still be around. His backpack is gone so he must be too. “He was going to try to catch an early flight to Atlanta. Some friends of his want him to come to some island for a weekend concert.”
Knowing we are alone she flops down on my bed next to me. “I think he’s my new favorite.”
I laugh at this. She still wants me to pick one man and settle down but she can’t decide which guy she should champion. “Uh huh, and Sebastian was your favorite two months ago and you never let up about Evan.”
“I only want what’s best for you.”
This is a conversation that never goes anywhere so I change the subject. “Did you make the donation?”
“Yep, I filled out the form this morning and made sure the thank you letter would go to Andre. I told them he definitely needs to be on their mailing lists, both email and snail mail.”
“Nice touch.” I note as I sip my coffee. We got the final money from selling a plane to the Montreal restauranteur yesterday, so I had Dom wire a fifty-thousand-dollar donation to The Women’s Business Development Center in Andre’s name. Knowing that I will push his chauvinistic buttons even a little makes me happy. He was an ass to me to the end and I kissed his ass until he made the final commitment. It’s just nice to know men like him are a dying breed.
“OK, so you are on your own this morning. Marco has a well-baby check-up, then we are going over to Nana Lucca’s house for lunch. Then it’s off for new clothes shopping. There’s a baby sale at Penney’s and you know she can’t resist a sale.”
I launch my naked self out of bed and walk into the bathroom. I shout from inside, “Don’t you think you should slow down on that baby stuff. I don’t care if they’re on sale, two babies is plenty.”
She appears in the bathroom doorway and leans on it. “Very funny.” Then she pulls her shirt up and pants down to expose her belly and study it in the full-length mirror. There is only a slight rise where baby number two has just begun. “I’m going to start showing sooner with this one. I’m still all stretched out from mondo Marco.”
I smirk at her because she looks great. She’s absolutely glowing, unlike when she was first pregnant with Marco. “I think this will be a girl,” I theorize. “You look different than you did last time.”
I put on my robe and start to brush my teeth. “A girl would be nice.” She turns to the side and studies her stomach from that view. “Then I could be done with this pregnancy stuff.”
I roll my eyes at her because she swore that she was never going to do it again after Marco was born, now look at her. Something tells me this won’t be her last. I spit and rinse then say, “No, I think you should keep going until we fill this house—maybe even have to put on an addition.”
This gets me a warning smile. We are both really happy that this new baby means that she and Luis and Marco will be staying here a while longer. Financially it makes sense and it’s really easy for her to work for me and take care of her kids. Luis was less than happy when he realized that they would be here at least another year, but he’s getting over it. Maybe the remote control thing was his consolation prize.
While I get dressed Dom lays back down on my bed and stretches. One hand slides under a pillow where she feels around. “Oooo, it looks like someone left you a note.” She pulls it out and starts to unfold it then stops to ask, “Do you want me to read it?”
I shrug. She knows everything, ev-er-y-thing that goes on in my life. I doubt whatever Pete says will be some big revelation. She reads in silence and smiles. “Um, try reading it to me.” I reach for it but she pulls it back.
“Viv, What can I say? I’m madly in love with you. I want to stay here with you forever and let your smokin’ hot assistant drool over me all the time. Please let me. Love always, Pete.” She’s obviously pretending to read and adding her own words.
I lay down next to her. “Try again.”
She does. “Viv, I had to take off. Consider meeting me in Iceland. It’s hot as hell here—kinda like you. P”
Dom tosses me the paper. “I liked my version better. Especially the part about the smokin’ hot assistant. I really do think he likes me.”
I assure her. “I think that he would be on you like wh
ite on rice if you weren’t married and so damn fertile.”
“He doesn’t want smilin’ babies with perfect teeth?”
I laugh. “He doesn’t even want to stay in one place for more than a few days, so no. And I like him that way. If Pete where the stick around kind I wouldn’t have time for Sebastian to screw with my head or to go clothes shopping with Evan in London.”
“When are you seeing the kinky bastard again?” Dom uses her new nickname for Sebastian.
I shrug. “Maybe in late May, he’s been really busy.”
“With her?” She won’t mention the name of Sebastian’s married lover.
“I doubt it. He’s supposed to be working the rigs this month.” I walk back into the bathroom to put my hair in a ponytail.
“I just don’t see how you can stand the idea of him still dating her.” Dom follows me.
“Because it’s not my business and that’s not the kind of relationship we want.” I get a disapproving head shake. “It really doesn’t bother me. When he’s with me I get his full attention, and then some. There’s no way I could take him full time.”
She changes the subject. “So you are going to London to meet Evan?”
“I might.”
“You should. He’s going to look like a geek if you don’t go help him.”
“He is a geek,” I remind her.
“But a much hotter one when you dress him.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me? I just got home.” And I want to stay and enjoy my house.
“Very funny, you know I’ve been waiting until you got here to watch the entire season of Outlander. We’re watching tonight, right?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” I reassure her. “I’m making my famous roast and we are vegging in front of the TV until we finish the season or we fall asleep, whichever comes first.”
“Well considering you were probably up till all hours entertaining Pete and I’m sleeping for two, we’ll be lucky if we get through one episode.”
