He wondered what she was thinking, how she was processing all this. He was pretty certain she was soaking her britches. They continued to walk along the path, going deeper into the woods.
“What if we come across someone?”
“We say hi and continue on.”
“We what?”
“We say hi, and we keep going.”
“You want someone to see me like this?”
“Not particularly. But I want to see you like this.
I want to walk in the woods with you where I can see your breasts in all their naked glory. I am only focused on what
I want right now. Not what you want. Or what another hiker wants, or doesn’t want. This is what I want and I am enjoying myself immensely.” He pulled her along after him and after a few moments, he spun her and leaned her up against the trunk of a big oak tree.
“This is hot. You, me, in the woods . . . you like this,” His head ducked and he began making love to her breasts with his lips, tongue, fingertips, teeth. He sucked, nibbled, kissed, licked and mercilessly toyed with her pebbled nipples until they were distended, hard, and needy. She thrashed her head back and forth on the tree trunk. “Garrett, please.” The yearning so intense . . . his teasing touches producing the desired result. She begged. “Please . . . please . . .”
“Please what baby?”
“Please make me come.”
“You want to come?” His self-assured smirk spiked her pleasure.
“Yes!” she demanded. “You can humiliate me, shame me, force me to beg, but you damn well better deliver,” she breathed as her hand closed over him and squeezed.
His fingers undid the button on her capris and he pulled them to her knees, he slid himself down and took her panties to her thighs. He sat back on his heels and looked up at her radiant face. “You look so hot, so unbelievably hot. I want to fuck you so badly.” Questing lips fed on her, sending pulses surging through her body. His kisses were warm and thorough, very thorough, his tongue darting boldly into hidden crevasses, thrilling her even more.
He looked up and smiled at her, his salacious eyes causing a pleasant riff of awareness to ignite and blaze through her. She was out in the open, in the great outdoors—all but naked. It was primal, uncivilized, and it was so fucking hot. That he somehow knew how this was affecting her was suffusing her with pleasure too. He was a partner in her pleasure, and at that moment she trusted him with her soul. The slavish control he had over her devastated her senses. In this moment, she was his. She belonged to him.
He stood, took her wrists and pinned them together with one hand over her head, against the rough bark of the tree, as if reminding her where they were, and how dangerous and wild this was. He kissed her, diving deep with his tongue, snaking it all around, making sure she knew without a doubt where his mouth had just been. All the while, his free hand played over her body, fingers tugged roughly on nipples too hard to bear, and his hand squeezed one breast, then the other as he kissed her, his tongue now coaxing hers into a strenuous workout. When he left her lips to begin kissing her neck, her throat, her collarbone, she whimpered, “Garrett, please . . . please. I need you.”
“Soon baby,” he breathed against her neck, as his hand parted her thighs and two fingers filled her. “Soon,” he whispered again.
When she was practically climbing up his hand he broke away and stepped back. He walked backward until he was several feet away. “You look amazing. You have magnificent tits, and the most beautiful cleft.” He was using the same words she had used in her story about Julia. He wondered if she would recognize them. Julia and her duke had been in an orchard . . . they were in the woods. Julia had been propped against a tree . . . and so was she. Would her mind make the connection to her fantasy?
He thought it might, as her eyes went glassy and pleasure suffused her from head to toe as she trembled with urgent, wanton need. He watched as a fever of hunger washed over her, he fed it as he stood before her unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He pulled out his erection, pumped it twice, showed her the evidence of his desire wetting the tip. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Then this is what you shall have.”
He strode back to her, stripped her of pants and panties, and then used her pants as a buffer between her and the tree as he braced her against it. He gripped a buttock in each hand, lifted her legs high and impaled her. She clasped him around his neck and began to ride him feverishly, but soon became frustrated because she didn’t have the strength to continue. He shifted his hands to her lower back to protect her from the force of his ardent thrusts as he lifted her from him and then slammed her back down, over and over again. With powerful arms he seated and unseated himself as she fought to stay with him.
He kissed her chest and sucked on her nipples as she cried out and he thrust harder. She almost toppled him over when she used her hands on his shoulders to drive herself onto him as she started to come. She keened into his neck and sobbed, “I just can’t get it.”
“Yes, you can baby,” he said and gripped her buttocks tight. He lifted her and practically dropped her down onto him as he jammed a finger into her ass. She jerked and every muscle tightened just before she found her release and she spasmed out of control. “Gotcha.” He whispered in her hair as he felt every tingle, every shiver, every rhythmical clutch of her vagina as she climaxed, not once, not twice, but three times.
“Would you be thinkin’ it’d be my turn soon?” he asked with a touch of humor as she panted in his ear. He took her to the ground, and on a floor of pine needles he plowed into her, ejaculating almost immediately into her honeyed center. “I love you, Laurel,” he breathed as the wave crashed over him and took him.
She looked up into dazed eyes. He looked down into eyes bright with tears.
“You love me?” she asked.
“Yes. You trusted me,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You won’t let anyone else fuck you?”
“No.”
“Then we’re good.” He lifted himself off of her and stood. After he put himself back together, he put his hand down and helped her to stand. He helped her into her panties and mangled pants and then smacked her butt. “Okay, trailblazer, lead the way.”
“What about my top?”
“You didn’t have one getting here as I recall.”
“But what if . . . I mean there could be a ranger or something.”
“You’d pretty much make his day.”
But he understood that needs changed, horny and hot, things seemed somehow acceptable, less over the top—sated and in a normal state of mind, self-consciousness slipped back in charge. He pulled a bandana from his back pocket. “I was saving this to blindfold you with, but I suppose you can use it to cover those luscious mounds of yours, but only if we hear someone coming, understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“Kiss me,”
She took his face in her hands and kissed him hungrily. Then stepped back and bit her lip. “How was that?”
“As topless wenches go, you’ll do. You’ll do quite well.”
He pretended to maul her breasts and then began walking her backwards through the woods. He watched her tits shake and jiggle as he coached her to step over branches and lifted her over logs.
“I’d love to take you to Fantasy Fest in Key West one day. I’d paint your breasts like daisies, leaving the tips bare for everyone to see.”
She just about swooned at the thought of being naked except for body paint in front of so many people. That festival drew thousands, tens of thousands. “Would you really like that?” She wasn’t sure she would—in her fantasy world she’d eat it up, but in the real world, she knew she’d be afraid, nervous, self-conscious.
�
�I love you naked, Laurel, and I wouldn’t be ashamed to show you off. But it seems to me that if you’re on edge about the occasional hiker, maybe that’s not such a good plan.” God, he’d die if she really wanted to show her body off to strangers. She was his. He didn’t want to share her. He just wanted to make her happy.
“You’re right, it’s probably not something I could ever really do. But I love playing these games with you, thinking about it and actually envisioning it.” She stopped walking and held his face in her hands, “I love you, Garrett. You are an amazing man.”
He caressed her naked breasts as he looked down into her face. “You make loving you easy, so easy. I love you like this. Topless for me, just for me.” He bent and kissed each breast then bound them in the bandana. “One day, you’ll walk completely naked in the woods with me.”
“Will you be naked too?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“That’s just not the way it is in most fantasies.”
“Yours or mine?”
“You tell me.”
“Hmmm. Now that I think about it, you’re right, the man’s always dressed. Why is that?”
“Maybe, because in your fantasies you want to be submissive to a man. And that’s how you show it. You let him strip you of your clothes and then you let him do what he wants. Walking naked out in the open with a man gives him possession of you. You become his. His to do with as he pleases.”
“That’s how it was with us. You did as you pleased with me.”
“Yes. That I did.”
There was a long silence as she turned to face front, and they walked back to the truck. As he was lifting her into the truck she looked into his face and said, “I trust you, Garrett.”
“Good, because I’m going to keep pushing you.”
“I think I’ll be fine with that.”
“No complaints then, next time when you’re totally naked, with a butt plug in your ass.”
“Whoa, whoa.”
He smiled, “Just testing the boundaries. So I suppose, we’ll end up somewhere in between.”
“God, I hope so.”
He bent and kissed her. “You’re so much fun to tease.”
“Sometimes I’m not sure you’re teasing.”
“Sometimes, I’m not.”
Chapter Sixty-eight
Friday, they both cleared their schedules for a day of fun. It promised to be a glorious day on the beach, and as they’d both been busy on Wednesday and Thursday, they hadn’t seen each other since returning from Charleston.
Garrett picked Laurel up at seven, then after a quick run to get flat bagels from the Bagel Dock, they went to Garrett’s beach house for breakfast.
After unloading all the groceries she had packed, and getting a quick tour of the house, Laurel found her way around his kitchen and made her special wake-me-up fruit smoothie. Made with fresh strawberries, pineapple, fat-free milk, and the scrapings from a fresh vanilla bean, it, along with a bagel, gave them the energy to spend the morning kayaking through the marshes and along the Intracoastal.
After cooling showers and reciprocating oral sex, they’d had a mid-morning nap and then a lazy lunch on his deck. A long walk on the beach was next, and then Laurel talked Garrett into letting her plant some flowers in the front beds. So it was off to the nursery. While she lovingly planted the impatiens and jasmine plants they’d bought at Shady Oaks, he refreshed her with mimosas.
They talked while they worked, and Garrett was treated to a mini-dissertation on damselflies and dragonflies. He’d never known the differences between the two, and was surprised there were so many varieties. He was impressed when she rattled off a few names, and pointed out a red skimmer on a blade of grass, saying its favorite foods were flies, midges, gnats and mosquitoes, adding that we should bow to them. And then he laughed when she did.
For dinner, Garrett offered to run over to the mainland for Chinese food and more champagne. They’d been leisurely sipping mimosas from big acrylic wine glasses, and when she asked for a refill, he’d discovered that they’d used the whole bottle.
Laurel was reading her book about the submissive Grace, and marveling at how one could so quickly be eased into the submissive lifestyle, for the right person. She had just finished a steamy scene, and could not imagine delving into another interlude right now, so she decided to check her email. It had been two days since she’d checked it. She’d brought her laptop this morning, but Garrett had kept her so busy, she hadn’t had time to even turn it on.
She discovered she had left her wireless mouse on her desk at home, and got up to open Garrett’s laptop case to get his, as they both preferred working with a wireless mouse rather than using a keyboard mouse. She unzipped a compartment looking for it and pulled out a small baggie instead. There was something red in it.
She shook the bag, and her eyes went wide with shock. It looked like her missing flash drive. She couldn’t believe it at first, figuring that it couldn’t possibly be hers, but it looked just like hers. Even the Ziploc with the blue and yellow stripe that turns green when zipped looked like the kind she used. She found the mouse, plugged the receiver in, booted up her laptop, then plugged the flash drive into the USB port. As soon as she opened the file, which now bore the name Laurel instead of just Backup, she knew.
Dread filled her chest as panic took over. She scanned the file titles. They were all so familiar to her. She cringed as she read the file names, recalling the story each held. He’d read these. He’d read her most private thoughts. He knew her secrets—her dirty fantasies and dark secrets. Her core began to tremble. Her hands and feet felt numb. Tears welled in her eyes. And she was filled with shame. Horrified with what he knew about her. Humiliation filled her. Then anger built. Her temperature rose and her heartbeat accelerated at an alarming rate. Her head began to throb. She rubbed her fingers over her eyebrows, back and forth, back and forth. Agitated and tense, as the anger built, it grew like a mushroom cloud until she felt ready to explode from it. Her heart, pumping like a sledgehammer with each fresh surge of blood, was loud in her ears. She felt as if she could drown in the sound.
He’d known from the beginning. He was the one who had found it that day. And all this time, he’d satisfied his own prurient nature, reading about hers, delving into every single private thought she’d had about sex and how she wanted to do it, have it done to her, with her . . . . My God. Tied, bound, gagged, exposed, shamed. She stood there humiliated beyond believing. And trembling with rage. Images came unbidden—her strapped naked to the bedpost in Charleston, walking topless in the woods at Vereen Gardens, without her panties at the Inlet View . . . and then her skirt lifted, by him, in the elevator!
She began to pace. So he’d searched her out, found a nice little sex toy, an eager and willing slut to play with. And while he touched, caressed, fondled, and shamed her, all the time he had been laughing at her, giving her what he knew she wanted, but was afraid to ask for.
She thought of the way he teased her, kept her from coming, making her beg for release. Oh, he must have loved that. Dangling the carrot, then taking it away, dangling it again, and finally using his power to control her by making her come at his command. That bastard! She slammed the top down on her laptop, jerked the flash drive out, belatedly realizing it wasn’t the proper way to remove the devise, and cursed. Well, what did it matter if she lost all her files again, she had backups. Backups! Knowing him, he’d have her file on his hard drive. Damn him!
She woke his computer and systematically deleted her files, then trashed everything that was in his recycling bin. She was never going to have her thoughts all to herself again if he had his own backup system. And most assuredly, he did. Probably had his stuff in the clouds somewhere. She huffed. Well, nothing could be done about that.
She grabb
ed her shoulder bag, tossed in her laptop and slung the strap over her head settling it between her breasts. She took a look around and saw the empty baggie sitting by his laptop. He’d know as soon as he saw it, that she’d found out his secret. But it would be too late. By the time he got back, she’d be gone.
As she ran down the steps she realized she could pass him if she ran along the street, and she couldn’t face him now. But she wanted to have the satisfaction of him returning to an empty house, seeing the empty bag by his laptop, and realizing she had discovered his deceitfulness.
She turned around and went back through the house to go down the stairs that led to the beach. Her nerves were on edge, every muscle taut with anger, but she could feel a calming force drawing her to the west end of the island and toward the Kindred Spirit.
Chapter Sixty-nine
When Garrett returned to the house five minutes later, he instantly sensed that something was off. He called out to Laurel, and when she didn’t answer, he put down his packages and walked through the house calling her name.
When he’d checked every room on every floor, he went back to the great room and then to the kitchen to see if she’d left a note. There was nothing on the kitchen counter. He walked over to the side table by the phone where he kept a notepad—nothing there. He stood hands on hips and turned in a slow circle, and that’s when he saw it. The empty baggie. Shit!
In two quick strides he was at his laptop. The flash drive was missing. He woke his computer. His fingers flew. Her files were missing. And the recycling file had been dumped. Oh God, she knew. And clearly, she wasn’t happy about it!
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