Better Love

by Daisy Prescott

  “What? No!” Well, maybe, but I’d need to see the kind of toys she had before committing to anything more. “I want to watch. Maybe participate a little. Like the magician’s assistant.”

  Color bloomed over her chest and rose up her neck to her cheeks. When she finally spoke, her voice came out a small squeak. “Watch?”

  “Mmm hmm. I’ve been fantasizing about it ever since I spotted your portable charger when you dumped out your purse.”

  My favorite crease appeared between her brows and she scrunched up her nose. “Why?”

  “I thought it was a small vibrator.”

  “In my purse?”

  “You said yourself you’re a modern girl.”

  With a little shake of her head, her bravado faded. “A woman needs her secrets.”

  In a quick movement, I pinned her to wall. “Share them with me. I’m so turned on right now simply by the thought of you pleasuring yourself. What do you think about when it’s just you and a toy? Do you ever fantasize about me?”

  I ground my hips into hers, letting her feel the affect she had on my body without a single touch from her.

  “Mmm.” She pulled me closer by the edge of my jacket.

  I took her actions as an affirmative answer. Lifting her hands above her head, I pinned them to the wall. “You know me. I never beg. But I will.”

  She responded by pressing her breasts against my chest and kissing me, sliding her tongue against mine, and then nipping my bottom lip.

  I attempted to keep up and slow her down. Wrapping her calf around my thigh, she rubbed her center over my hard length. My jeans felt tighter with every pass of her hips as my cock thickened.

  Releasing one hand, I wrapped her hair around my fist and tugged her head back. “Show me.”

  I led her down the hall by the hand, but paused once we were inside her room. “This is still I’ve Never Day.”

  She released my hand and then walked over to her bed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  From beneath her bed frame she pulled out a small red leather box, not much larger than a shoebox or a large loaf of bread. Quietly, she set it on the comforter and lifted the lid.

  “This might be the sexual equivalent of Pandora’s box. Once you see my kinky secrets, you’ll never be able to unsee them.”

  Intrigued, I stepped behind her and rested my chin on her shoulder to peer into her treasure chest. I didn’t know what I expected, but nothing shocked me. Although the elegant nipple clamps joined by the silver chain did surprise me.

  “Which one is your favorite?” I kissed the exposed skin of her neck.

  She lifted a slim, pink vibrator that reminded me of the shape of the portable charger which started this little adventure.

  “Show me,” I whispered.

  “Now?”

  “We have time.” I moved away from her to sit on the bottom of the bed on the far side. Patting the mattress, I encouraged her to join me. “Please?”

  “Daniel Ashland saying please? Be still my heart.” She gave me a little half-smile and moved the box off the bed to the floor. “Okay, I’ll do this but I have one stipulation.”

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  “You can only look at me through the mirror above the dresser.” She pointed to the far wall. “No turning around. No commentary.”

  “You listed three things.”

  “Take it or—”

  “I’ll take it.” I shifted to face the far wall. The mirror gave me a full view of the entire bed even if she laid down.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “We can stop. Anytime.”

  “Are you going to give me a safeword?”

  “Do I want to know?” My jealousy rivaled my curiosity. If she’d done kinky shit with other men, I never wanted to know the details. Safewords? Toys? She’d changed since we were together.

  “I read books.” She shimmied out of her jeans. “I’ve read a lot of books over the past five years.”

  I never expected her to be celibate if she wasn’t with me. That would be a tragic waste. “I love a good book.”

  “Have you ever had sex in your library?” Her voice was quiet as she pulled her sweater over her head, leaving her only in her bra and lace underwear. Both were in a deep shade of burgundy-purple that made her pale skin glow and brought out the red in her auburn hair.

  “No, but I’m thinking we should. Preferably as soon as possible.” In the mirror, I watched her climb behind me on the bed with the pink toy in her hand. “Is that something you want to do?”

  “It’s crossed my mind.”

  “Tell me.” I met her eyes in the reflection.

  I felt the bed shift as she bent her knees and opened her legs. Her fingers dipped below the lace of her underwear and a low buzzing sound told me she’d turned on the toy. My eyes locked on hers through the mirror for a moment.

  She began speaking in low whisper, almost too soft to hear. “I read Atonement, which has a sex scene in a library. Neither the man or woman ever speaks.”

  As she continued, her other hand pinched her nipple through the lace of her bra. “She walks into the room and he kisses her, pressing her against the bookshelves before lifting her up. She wraps her legs around him as he undoes his fly.”

  My cock strained against my own fly as I listened to her voice, watching as she stroked herself and played with her breast. It didn’t matter I was staring at her reflection, I could still see every glorious inch of her and hear her soft gasps and moans in between her words.

  “Saying nothing, he impales her on his cock in one swift thrust.” Roslyn shifted and opened her legs farther. “She gasps, crying out, before he muffles her sounds by kissing her. Their kiss is so passionate, so full of longing and lust and love, it’s almost heartbreaking. In desperation, he starts thrusting into her, pounding her against the shelves so hard books shift and tumble over.”

  Her slim fingers dipped into her bra to pinch and palm her breast. I wanted it to be me doing that. This was torture, but I remained staring at her through the mirror.

  “The woman is whimpering, begging for release when he reaches beneath her silk dress and . . .” she paused as a wave of pleasure crashed over her, “and when he touches her, she shatters into a thousand pieces.”

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and desperately trying to resist the urge to turn around and plunge myself inside her.

  “His face, oh God, his face is agony when he comes inside of her. So much want and desire floods his features when he climaxes. He pours every ounce of his love into her. It’s the hottest thing.” Roslyn closed her eyes as her hips rolled. Her hand on her breast stilled. With a couple of quick, sharp inhales, she leaned her head back into the pillows. Her brows furrowed and she bit down on her bottom lip.

  Nothing in the world was more beautiful than Roslyn’s face captured at the peak of her pleasure.

  Unable to keep away from her for a moment longer, I crawled up the bed to her. With her eyes closed, she smiled and turned off her toy. I removed the vibrator from her hand and then dropped it on the floor.

  “I can’t believe I just did that.” She covered her eyes with her forearm.

  I removed her arm and covered her face in kisses. “I can’t either, but it was the single most sexy thing I’ve ever seen in all of my life. All of it.”

  Her fingers ran down my erection through my jeans. “You’re not lying.”

  “Never.”

  After grabbing a condom, I stripped out of my clothes and then rid her of her pretty lingerie, barely able to unclasp her bra before I thrust into her soft warmth.

  Without a doubt, Roslyn was my love, my heart, my tomorrow. Emotion overwhelmed me as my orgasm hit me.

  I crashed on top of her, breathing hard and spent. As soon as I caught my breath, I rolled to the side.

  When I could form rational thoughts again, I spoke. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

  “Um, you’re welcome?�
�� She sounded uncertain.

  “We need to recreate that scene at my house. As soon as possible.”

  “Promise?” she asked, her voice sleepy and sated.

  “To continue this day of I Never, how about we nap? I’m guessing neither of us ever indulges in them.”

  “As long as we don’t miss Mr. Bennett.”

  I set my alarm before dozing off with her in my arms.

  I’d never felt more content.

  AFTER THE CONCERT we went to a trendy place in lower Queen Anne that Roslyn picked out. She had connections and got us a table for a late seating. It was a nice and unsettling feeling to have someone else be in control of my evening. Sure, I’d had executive assistants before who booked travel and filled out expense reports for me, but I’d never had someone else be in control of my food.

  I didn’t recognize the black awning or industrial interior, but the scents in the air of garlic, a hint of saffron, and citrus told me I was in good hands.

  Settling into our booth, I let her order a bottle of wine for us. We took a car service to the concert and could walk back to her condo if the rain stopped.

  “Thanks for today. I did need it. More than I’d let myself realize on a conscious level. You were right about all work and no play. Plus, I’m high on endorphins and dopamine from all the sex.”

  “I like hearing that,” I replied with a knowing smile.

  “The middle part about being right? Or the sex part?” She unfolded her napkin and demurely set it on her lap.

  “I’m going to get a cross-stitch that says ‘you were right’ with today’s date, and hang it near my office door. Such a lovely reminder anything is possible if you dream it.” I exaggerated a happy sigh.

  “In my spare time, I’ll make one for you, Ashland.” She sipped her wine.

  “You needlepoint?”

  “My grandmother taught me all sorts of crafts. Careful what you wish for. You might randomly get a lopsided sweater or two left mittens from me.”

  “When do you have the time?”

  “I do it during conference calls and when I travel with a client. Calms me down and keeps me from strangling anyone if my hands are occupied.” She mimicked knitting with invisible needles like a hot, young version of Madame Defarge from my favorite Dickens’ novel.

  “I’d worry about the needles being used as weapons. You could easily poke out an eye.”

  “They are an excellent deterrent. Luckily I’ve never had to use them for nefarious purposes. Yet.”

  “Any other athletes giving you trouble?”

  She sighed before replying. “The tech billionaires are the worst. In terms of toys and gadgets, they outdo the athletes. You’d be surprised about the egos on some of the guys most people would make fun of as nerds. They think they run the world.”

  “We do.” I smirked at her.

  “Do you miss it?” Her voice softened.

  “Being a nerd? Still am one.”

  “Being on top of the world?”

  “All smoke and illusion. The funny thing about being on top of the world is the ball keeps on spinning. Takes a lot of effort to hold your position and not end up on the bottom.”

  “So you jumped off before that happened?”

  “I jumped to save myself. I never wanted to be a corporate giant. If I could change anything, I never would’ve sold out on my company.” I swallowed a large sip of wine. She had amazing taste and knew her Washington wines.

  “Seriously?” She seemed surprised.

  “Of course.”

  “Have you always felt this way?”

  “I think there were about twenty minutes after I signed the final contract I felt good about the decision.”

  “Why did you go through with it?”

  “I was living the American Dream. Everyone in my life was congratulating me on my brilliant success. Pretty heady to always walk into a room and be told how smart I was, how lucky, and how envious they were of me. People asked for my advice and sought me out as an expert. Clearly I was smarter than the average bear because I had all the zeros in my bank accounts to prove it.”

  Our first courses arrived.

  “Who doesn’t want that?” She pierced a few leaves of lettuce in her salad.

  “Me.” I eyed my house-cured salmon before tasting it.

  “Most of my clients would tell you you’re insane.”

  “That’s why they’re your clients. They’re still on top of the spinning ball, thinking they control the world. Eventually they’ll miss a step, slow down, get distracted, age, and the ball will crush them.”

  “What’s your advice?”

  “Get off while you can.”

  She blushed. Roslyn didn’t blush. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Are you having dirty thoughts, Ms. Porter?”

  “You talking about getting off while you can sent my mind to another place.”

  Interesting. I leaned closer. “All my blustering about being a corporate drop out got you going again?”

  She slowly shook her head. “No, not that part.”

  Our waiter interrupted to clear our plates and refill our wine glasses. I smiled at him and made benign conversation until he left.

  “Did you think I meant the other kind of getting off? You have a dirty mind,” I said.

  “I was an innocent before I started working with men like you.”

  “I think this afternoon’s activities prove otherwise. What sort of man am I?”

  “Someone who has a big enough ego to think he controlled the world.”

  “Nah. My ego is small enough to walk away.” And with that sentence I’d come as close as ever to discussing breaking things off with her five years ago.

  “Perhaps small size wasn’t the issue.”

  I stared at her, uncertain if we were talking about my ego or penis, because for some men they were one in the same. “Excuse me?”

  “You thought you knew what was best for both of us. I’d say that took a big ego.”

  “I was protecting you.”

  Again our waiter interrupted us with our main courses and more water. We both quickly responded negatively when he asked if we needed anything.

  Roslyn cut into her steak with a little more force than necessary. “My point exactly. You had everything figured out. Because you were a man, a success, older, stubborn.”

  I wanted to remove the sharp knife from her hand before continuing this conversation. “Don’t put this all on me. I offered you my world and you turned me down.”

  “You wanted to put me in a pretty box. You never thought of a compromise.”

  I flinched as she stabbed a piece of rare steak, causing a slim line of blood to pool beneath it. “You said no.”

  “I didn’t realize at the time how black and white your world view was. You gave me an ultimatum.”

  “You didn’t want the same things I did.”

  “To be happy? To spend my life with a man whom I loved and who loved me in return? No, why would I want those things?”

  “You’re rewriting history.” I set my silverware on my plate.

  “The truth lies between the memories.”

  “If I had it all wrong, why didn’t you tell me? Call me and scream at me?”

  “Because you were already gone. I could see it in your eyes you’d made your decision to move on.”

  “You were wrong.” My appetite gone, I pushed my uneaten pork loin to the side. Somehow we’d found ourselves off the rails again and in the weeds. “I don’t want to fight with you about what was said and done years ago. Not tonight. Not after the amazing twenty-four hours we’ve spent together.”

  “How can we move forward if we can never settle this?”

  “Because I’ve changed. Because unlike last time, I’m not a cocky bastard.” I inhaled a deep breath. “Because I love you and I’m not going to let you go without pouring everything I am and everything I have into making you happy.”

  “You love me.” Her expression managed to mix shock an
d anger simultaneously with tenderness.

  “I do.”

  “After a weekend, mostly involving a lot of sex, you’re declaring your love for me?”

  “I am. You know the old Sunday school song about letting your light shine or hiding your light under a bushel?”

  “Vaguely.”

  Leaning forward, I held her gaze. “For five years, I’ve smothered my love under a stubborn refusal to be vulnerable with you. Well, fuck that. I’m not going to pretend I’m not in love with you. Hell, I think I’ve done a terrible job of hiding it. Bushel or no bushel.”

  After I gave him a dirty look, the waiter and his dessert menus scuttled away from the table.

  “You don’t have to say anything in return tonight. Or soon. Or ever. Although that would be the worst option. Still, it’s your choice. Totally up to you. Whatever you want to do, I’ll be fine with it.”

  “Daniel?”

  I stared into her deep blue eyes and held my breath. “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  I exhaled. “You’re welcome.”

  We passed out after Tony Bennett, a late dinner, too much wine, and with the realization that we weren’t twenty any more. Our bodies needed a rest.

  I hadn’t planned on telling her last night I love her. I knew it was ridiculously early and I was probably a fool, but I didn’t regret saying the words again out loud.

  Was I upset she didn’t return my declaration? Not really.

  Disappointed? A little.

  I had faith in us. Enough to carry us along until she was ready.

  I’d loved her a long time one-sided. I could wait a little longer to hear the words.

  While she slept this morning, I’d snuck out to buy ingredients for a proper breakfast. Eggs, thick cut bacon, berries and granola for her yogurt, and fresh croissants perfectly baked with a dark, crisp exterior like I’d had in Paris.

  “What smells like real food?” She strolled into the kitchen, wearing my new shirt and looking gorgeous.

  “Good morning, beautiful. I’m making breakfast.”

  “Where did all of this food come from? Delivery service? Food fairies?” She rubbed her sleepy eyes as if to clear the vision before herself.