by Ashlee Price
At first it was subtle, like bubbles tickling my skin. His stimulation reached in further and sent hot blood to his point of contact. The rivers became molten and drifted outward from my vagina to the nerves and muscles of my upper legs, into my tummy and down into my hips. It was scary, it was delightful, and God help the man who stopped it. Then came the next stage, when the lightest little touch caused a shock of intense pleasure and the harder he pumped, the greater the shock. He studied my face and must have known I was reaching a climax, for he guided himself into a deliberate and intentional rhythm.
Then it broke loose. I felt like I had left my body and my brain had joined the stars in the galaxy, shooting outward and taking away all sensation but that which he was driving into my body. I could feel myself spasm, but it was not painful—only pure pleasure.
My hips rocked of their own volition, arching and rolling to make the orgasm last longer. He was smiling in a knowing sort of way, kissing my nipples at intervals as I screamed unintelligible words that were sourced from somewhere in my primal being. It pulsed and pulsed and then slowly faded away. I felt him stiffen as he plunged hard one final time, and then he collapsed on the bed beside me.
His arm reached out to draw me close, and he kissed me on the top of the head. “Welcome to making love, sweetheart. This, we don’t share with anyone. Just you and I. Deal?”
I would have agreed to sell my first-born son at that point. I was in such a mellow daze of pleasure that the world became void of negatives and I floated like a snowflake being puffed at by a spring wind.
Dagger sat up enough to drag a blanket over the two of us. He formed our cocoon and we fell asleep.
***
It was dark when we awakened. I realized with amazement that we’d made love for several hours. It had only seemed like a few brief minutes. I reached for the robe on the floor and wrapped myself in it. I made us coffee and sandwiches and we sat like two campers with our food, leaning against the headboard and chatting. All pretense was gone between us. Neither spoke of what had recently transpired—it was all in the looks that passed between us.
Dagger stayed the night with me, and although we didn’t make love again due to my being very tender and sore, he wrapped me in his arms and held me against him. I’d never felt such adoration and care before. We slept soundly and woke with the sun the next morning. He stole back down to his room before Kat arrived. There was nothing to hide—we just didn’t want to share.
I showered and dressed as normal and carried my cup of coffee with me as I went up to the reception area. Kat was balancing on her desk stool, sipping coffee and painting her nails. She was wearing what looked like a new outfit, particularly as there was still a tag hanging from the back collar.
I went up behind her, grabbed the scissors from her pencil cup and severed the tag string, then handed it all back to her.
“Thanks,” she responded, dropping everything on the desk to preserve the coating on her nails. “You guys have a good time last night?” she asked. I froze.
How does she know? Or is she just guessing?
I chose to assume the latter and counter her probing investigation. “I’m going to have to make some friends around here. I can see that I will tend to hole up and never leave otherwise.” What I didn’t realize was that she was on a mission.
“Dagger’s something, isn’t he?” she tried, leaving me to wonder whether her reference was to his business acumen or his personal attributes.
“Quite the natural athlete, I think you could say,” I answered, still trying to remain vague.
“Be careful, Whitney. I haven’t known Dagger for long, but I’ve seen his kind. They can be very attentive while they’re after whatever they want and then go ice-cold once their mission is accomplished.”
She’d chosen her words carefully. I was surprised that she had the insight. She hadn’t struck me as being particularly bright.
“This is a job for me, Katrina. One I need to keep.”
It was my way of warning her in return that she should mind her own business or maybe Dagger would start to wonder whether he needed a different receptionist. She went quiet after that. I forgave her the rudeness. I knew she considered Dagger a catch and had probably taken the job for just that reason. Maybe she’d even hoped to be promoted to being his physical assistant. God knows there had to be thousands of women who would envy me that job. I wanted to keep it, so I pressed no further.
The phone rang just then, and it made us both jump. “Real You Yoga,” she answered. “How may I help you?”
Our business had taken off that suddenly. I left the reception area in search of Dagger. I found him stretching in the men’s locker room, which I knew would be otherwise empty. He was working out in the nude, and flashbacks from the previous night rushed to my blushing face.
“Dagger?” I had to clear my throat. It suddenly felt hoarse.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Don’t you think you should call me by name unless we’re in private?”
“You’re right. I just was thinking of you and it popped out. And I don’t mean the words…” I matched his teasing with a healthy blush.
“The phone rang and she’s talking to clients. Are we officially open?”
“Yes, ma’am, we certainly are,” he said, his voice strained as he was bent from the waist, his legs spread wide and his hands flat on the floor between them.
“But Dagger, we haven’t had a single workout yet. I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“Calm down, chickadee. We’re just taking membership applications for the next week. They have to be screened and qualified before we accept them. Then the classes begin after that. You’ve got two weeks from Monday to get up to speed, and I’ll get you ready. Not to worry.”
“When do we start the, you know, nude part?”
“I think the sooner the better so you’re more comfortable, don’t you?”
“You’re probably right. Should I go into the pool or the women’s locker room or what?”
“Nope. You can stay right here. Begin with stretches, like you see me doing.”
“Well, okay. How about my clothes?”
“Take them off.”
“Here?”
He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me. “You can think of a better place?”
I felt mocked and foolish. “No, I guess not. That was silly for me to say, wasn’t it?” I nodded and began unbuttoning my pants, then slid them off, folding them neatly and adding my t-shirt and undies. It was cool in the room, and I wasn’t sure how to stand. I wanted to cover myself.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re my warrior princess. Hold your head up proudly, spread your stance and begin by touching the mat. C’mere and stand next to me,” he said, pointing to the space to his right.
I leaned over and forward. The effect was to open my buttocks and let my breasts hang in front of me. I was more than a little stunned at what I was doing, but what was the point in stopping now?
“That’s great, Whit. How does it feel?”
“Awkward.”
“That’s to be expected, don’t you think?”
“But you look so much better doing it than I do.”
“Whit, if you were to see yourself from my angle, you wouldn’t say that at all.”
“If you say so.”
“I think you look okay,” came a voice to his right. Our heads snapped up to see Kat standing in the doorway. “I called your name, Dag, but you didn’t hear me. I could hear you both from the hallway so I just came in. Hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Kat,” came Dagger’s warning growl. “We talked about this, and you said you’d be cool with it.”
“I’m cool, I’m cool.” Her fingers extended to mimic floating feathers. “Hey, listen, people are starting to call. Should I mail them applications or ask them to come in and take a tour of the studio?”
He straightened up, and I saw Kat’s eyes flick repeatedly downward at his penis. S
he wasn’t immune to his masculinity, no matter what she said. She was flushed and kept chewing the end of the pen she was holding.
“Tell you what. Let’s mail or email them applications for now. In fact, there’s one on the website, just direct them there. But get their address and phone number and invite them to our open house next weekend.”
“We’re having an open house next weekend?” Kat’s mouth was agape. “Wish someone would have told me about that. I’d have saved some of my wardrobe allowance for a knock-’em dead outfit.”
Dagger was frowning. “Kat, you’ll need to turn off that homing signal you call a brain. Our clients are all couples, and you are not to flirt or be suggestive with any of them, got that? Word gets out that couples are splitting up and my reputation is dead. They’ll figure this is nothing more than a—well, a whorehouse.”
“I beg your pardon?” Kat’s response was tart. I didn’t blame her, but I kept silent as I was standing stark naked and feeling very defenseless at that moment.
“Oh, don’t go and get on your high horse. You know what I meant.” His voice was terse and I could tell he was losing patience. “So, you got what you came for?”
“I guess so.” She sounded doubtful, but she could tell the conversation had come to an end.
“Then get up there and answer the phone. Keep anyone away from the back rooms until I give you the all-clear. We’ll be training back here and I’d like some privacy. Got it?”
“Got it, boss,” she sassed and left as quietly as she’d arrived.
My inclination was always to temper a tense situation, but in this case, I was staying hands off. I didn’t want to get wrapped up in that mysterious bundle of neurons that Kat called her brain.
“What do you think?” he asked me suddenly.
“About…?”
“Kat. I hired her because she had a certain light way around her, but now I’m thinking that scatter-brained and man-hunting aren’t going to work. We need someone more refined, private and respectful.”
I shook my head. “Dagger, you can’t possibly expect me to weigh in on this. It doesn’t involve me.”
“Why not?”
“Excuse me?”
“Aren’t we in a relationship?”
“Well, yes, but that’s us and this, well, this is business.”
“Our business,” he said, stressing the first word.
I wasn’t sure what to think of that, especially after what Katrina had said about him earlier. Was he being sincere? Was he testing me in some way? I’d spent four long years learning to manipulate peoples’ brains. Was he trying to do that to me? I felt my guard go up and didn’t volunteer any more information. I focused on the moves he taught me and how to do them as gracefully and with as much dignity as possible—considering that most of them involved my bare ass in the air.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dagger
I worked with Whitney during the days and made love to her through the nights. We were barely sleeping, and it was taking a toll, although I couldn’t seem to think of anything but her. We’d agreed that any penetration would involve yoga, as it was too tempting to incorporate the two with an audience.
She was the perfect student. She loved to please me and was intelligent and creative on her own. I made vague suggestions and she took them and put her own brand on them. I introduced her to the Tantra chair I kept in my office, and she was fascinated.
Physically, she was the perfect specimen. She had long, lean muscles, an excellent sense of balance, and long limbs that allowed her to accomplish moves generally performed only among advanced yoga students. We both enjoyed the exercise and the sense of control. It became a challenge to incorporate the yoga moves into our nightly lovemaking. Just when we thought we had a routine down, she’d come up with another idea and we’d try it out. It was an ever-evolving palate of offerings.
Part of me hated what we were planning to do. Originally, I’d been angry with the world; it had been an act of rebellion to open such a studio. Those who knew me thought it just another crazy outlet for my money. I believe my original intention truly was to add athleticism to sex, to have better control and thereby more enjoyment. Whitney brought all that into question as I grew more and more jealous at the thought of her being exposed to the clients.
By the day before the open house, I was in a frenzy.
“What’s wrong, Dagger? You seem all on edge.”
“You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“I’d never think you’re crazy. You’re one of the sanest people I’ve ever met,” she reassured me. Given her experience, I had to accept that as a compliment.
“I don’t know, Whit. I’m liking this whole idea less and less. You belong to me, and that body should only be on display to me. I like the fact that you’ve grown so comfortable with yourself, but this whole idea just isn’t hitting me right. I think I want out.”
“What? Dagger, it’s been your idea since the beginning, and you didn’t have problems with it before. Why now? What’s changed?”
“You know damned well what changed. You! Me! Us!”
“Dagger, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re jealous!”
“Call it what you like. This isn’t going down.”
“Come here and sit down with me. Please? Let’s talk about it.”
We went up to her apartment and she made us green tea and sandwiches. We sat at the small table by the window and I looked out over the rainy afternoon.
“Okay, now give. We had this all worked out. I was the one with the strongest resistance, and you helped me to overcome it. You were so positive minded. What’s changed?”
“I just don’t have a good feeling about this.” As soon as the words were out, they rang back at me, ricocheting inside my brain, and the old, sick guilt came flowing back into my veins.
“What? What is it?” She had a keen sense of my moods already and knew she’d touched on something really vulnerable. I had to tell her.
“That was what Tim said the day he died. He wanted to back out, was having a premonition, and I wouldn’t let him. I cost him his life.”
“I understand.”
She let the words settle in me for a while before crying foul. I knew she wouldn’t minimize my feelings; she wasn’t that kind of woman.
“Well, okay, then we won’t open. I’ll call the caterers and the florist, the rental place and the musicians. We’ll cancel the grand opening and then give you time to decide what you want to do.”
This made me angry. “Don’t be condescending to me, Whit. Don’t treat this like I’m being a child.”
She looked me in the eye. “I would never do that. I can tell you’re about to snap, and to keep you on track, I’m taking off the pressure. Dagger, there’s nothing in this world that you have to do. Life is all about options and choices. I’m here and I took this job because it was an option and I made a choice. But I’m not as invested in it as you. I could decide tomorrow that I didn’t want to be nude and you’d find some way around it, wouldn’t you?”
I didn’t answer.
“Well, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course I would. I’d never make you do something you didn’t want to.”
“There, you see? Now you know how I feel. My job is to help you, and if you decide you don’t want me naked, then it won’t happen.”
“Jesus, Whit, I don’t know what to do. Everyone is expecting what we’ve promised, and if I back down now, I’ll be a laughingstock. I can’t let that happen. Not after the Navy hero crap everyone talked about.”
“Who will it matter to, besides you?”
“I guess no one. I don’t have family.”
“Then don’t let it bother you.”
We sat there companionably, thinking.
“I have a suggestion,” she piped up. I was all ears. I nodded, urging her to continue. “Okay, so what if we make clothing optional? I’ll go out and get a few pairs of pale pink or flesh-toned ballet leotards and wear noth
ing beneath. Now, it’s the ladies I’m talking about. You men can do as you please; in fact, it might make them feel more, well, ‘beastly’, if you will, if they’re nude. But the ladies can have the option and my option will be to dress to suggest I’m nude, but not be. I didn’t want to bring this up, but maybe you’ve forgotten that women have a few days each month when nudity just isn’t going to work for them. This way, they can still participate without hesitation. What do you think?”
I listened, and as the idea rolled around in my head, I could see the possibilities. This woman, no, my woman, was smart, and she was right about options. Options separated “want to” from “have to.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea. You think men should be clothing optional, too?”
“And hide that beautiful body? No way. You should be proud of the way you look, and I’d much rather have the women see you au naturel than dressed in candy pink tights. Just not the same effect,” she said, wrinkling her cute nose.
“Okay, Whit, you’ve saved the day. You scoot on out of here and buy those leotards. I want to go through a few routines before the grand opening to make sure there are no restrictions. If we run into snags, we’ll just drop that part from the routines.”
She stood up and wiped her hands against one another as though she had just completed a job well done. “Good enough. I’m on my way. While I’m gone, you’ll have to figure out what to tell Katrina. She gets confused so easily. She needs to be able to smoothly explain it to clients.”
“Good idea.”
She was gone then, and I liked the way we had worked through the problem together. I had a feeling it was the Tim connection that had bothered me all along. I couldn’t shake it. I knew I was crazy about Whit, and she belonged to me, like a buried treasure I’d discovered and would keep hidden from the rest of the world.
