Learning to Trust

by Cynthia P. O'Neill

  It was almost noon before we were finally dressed and ready to start a tour of the city. He looked cute and casual and a lot younger than usual in a pair of khaki cargo shorts, navy polo shirt and sneakers. I was dressed in a Ralph Lauren floral print sundress that fell just below my thighs with matching light pink lace bra and panties and a pair of fuchsia gladiator sandals.

  I kept fidgeting, feeling out of character. Normally I wore shorts and a t-shirt or tank top on the weekend. He at least let me where a pair of fuchsia earrings to match the dress, but insisted that I wear the bracelet he’d given me, since I didn’t have on the earrings. I couldn’t understand why I had to always where a piece of jewelry he had given me. He kept saying he wanted to know that I was wearing something he gave me close to my skin; I’m trying to convince myself that it’s a hot, sexy, loving appeal and not a creeper request.

  I wanted to argue with him about the clothes, the jewelry, and my inability to select what I wanted to wear, but he dismissed me, citing we had already wasted most of the morning and needed to handle a few things before the gala tonight.

  He showed me the code to enter for the level “I” was parked on. I held my breath, hoping that Mr. Waters and his current extravagance would not be repeated in the form of a company vehicle. I was quickly deflated when I was presented the remote to a white Land Rover Evoque.

  Garrett had a look of caution on his face as he motioned his hand towards the driver’s side door for me to get in. The beauty of the vehicle continued on to the interior, with grey leather seats, fully loaded digital technology, and pretty much everything I could ever dream of in a vehicle. “Why?” I managed to ask.

  He climbed in the passenger seat and reached over me to buckle me in, brushing his lips lightly against mine. “Why not?!”

  I only glared, crossing my arms across my chest and refusing to start the car until he elaborated.

  He turned in his seat so he was facing me. “Mr. Waters and I value your safety, Laurel. We wanted to give you one of the safest vehicles on the road.”

  “Then why not give me a safe, small puddle jumper, like a ‘92 Volvo or something? I can easily drive that. I don’t need something this extravagant.”

  Garrett countered with an attempt at a menacing glare; he was really trying to contain a smile. “You do need something this large since you might be hauling equipment back and forth between the facilities. Someone can help you load and unload, but you may need the space. Plus, if your family comes to visit, you’ll need the seating and storage this offers.” He paused before adding, “Mr. Waters purchases company vehicles he feels suits the interest and needs of the employee.”

  I could only sit there, shaking my head. “I don’t have any say in this, do I?”

  He took a deep breath in and I could tell it wasn’t going to be an answer that I cared to hear. He patted my thigh. “Not really. Just accept that you have the ability to drive this fine automobile and be happy you don’t have to rely on public transportation.”

  I gave up, knowing I was talking to a brick wall, and I turned on the car’s lights so I could see what I was doing. As the headlights illuminated the garage, I caught site of the most intense sports car I’d ever seen. “Whose car is that? It’s magnificent!”

  He glanced over to the car in question, which happened to be in line-up of several other amazing cars. It was a two-door, sleek, black sports car with blue trim, but the insignia wasn’t something I was familiar with. Having grown up with my brother and Freddie, I was used to talks of the heart-stopping speeds of metal that enamored most teenage boys.

  Garrett rubbed my knee with his hand. “That’s one fine specimen of car indeed. It belongs to Mr. Waters, though he lets me drive it on occasion. I might be able to borrow it tomorrow for a few hours to let you get a closer look at it. It really is amazing to drive on the roads leading out of the city.”

  I felt my eyes bulge in excitement. “He would really let you do that?”

  “We are very close friends. I help him out quite a bit and he, in turn, lets me enjoy some of his perks from time to time.”

  I nodded my head, thrilled at the idea of riding in such a wonderful machine. “What kind of car is it? I don’t recognize the EB logo.”

  “It’s a Buggati Vitesse. The makers are an independent car company associated with the Volkswagen Group.” For some reason, his explanations of the car seemed to hold some form of pride for him, as if he were talking about his own car. I didn’t question it, though, because my brother often took the same pride in talking about cars he was captivated with.

  My stomach began to rumble, reminding us that it was quickly approaching lunch time.

  Garrett leaned over and pressed the start button on the vehicle and the engine purred to life, the tachometer showing it was brand new with only 40 miles catalogued. I could only wonder how I managed to get lucky enough to find myself in this new lifestyle and with him by my side.

  “Let’s get going, shall we?”

  The trip to the office was short, not even a mile away from where we lived. I continued to argue that I didn’t need a car, since I could easily walk to work, but he kept insisting I’d need it to drive to the other facility. I wouldn’t let things go until he had me drive, immediately, the distance to the training center so I’d understand the need for the car for my safety. Admittedly, some of the area between the two facilities wasn’t very welcoming. I finally conceded when I saw that the training facility was ten miles away. Plus, there was no way I could transport the equipment on the bus.

  We headed back to the office and it was better than I ever could’ve imagined. There were floors devoted strictly to the business side of things and then there were areas devoted entirely to prosthetics, hearing, and sight advancements. I couldn’t believe all that Waters Medical Industries and Bio-Medical Life Solutions did to help people live better journeys.

  “Will I get to see the Waters Medical Industries building, since you work there? And meet Mr. Waters at some point?” I knew excitement was etched across my face, but I couldn’t contain my joy. I wanted to see what kind of equipment they utilized and the products they created there. Their website gave so little information, other than what they produce for medical resale, and I was salivating for a peek.

  “I know Mr. Waters will be watching your performance over the next few months and stopping in, usually after hours, to check on projects. If he likes what he sees, he sometimes offers a meeting at his office to discuss future options within the company. So I have no doubt you’ll get to meet him and probably get a tour of the facility.”

  I’d have to work hard to meet the big man, then. I could do that. Garrett introduced me to the nighttime and weekend head of security, Franklin, and we got my badge made. He was very welcoming to the facility. Garrett showed me the wall of monitors Franklin had at the front of his desk. It appeared to have almost every angle of the building covered, including the garage parking.

  “Please feel free to give us a call, should you need to be walked to your car after hours, Ms. Hart. Even though we have the area under surveillance, we would still prefer to ensure the safety of our staff by walking them out.” Franklin quickly handed me a card with his extension and the cell phone for security.

  “Thank you, Franklin. I’ll remember that.”

  My work area was more than four times the space I utilized at the MIT laboratory. There was state of the art equipment, my own personal printer, scanner, copier, and even a small fridge.

  “Why the refrigerator?” I asked. “The break room is just a couple doors down.”

  Garrett held me close and he stifled a little laugh. “You seem to forget that you’ll need to snack throughout the course of the day. You’ll find it fully loaded, come Monday morning, with snacks approved by Deborah and Dr. Chadler. And both the Senior Lead, Daniel, and your supervisor, Rick, know to check on you.” His eyebrows hitched upwards in a way that told me I didn’t dare push him.

  “I guess I have no choi
ce.” I huffed out a groan of disapproval. “Thank you.”

  He leaned in to kiss my temple, but at the last moment I shifted and found my lips pressed firmly against his. I was surprised when he took a step back.

  “Not here, darling, remember, there are cameras everywhere. We wouldn’t want to give security an eye full.”

  “Oh my goodness! I’m sorry.” To my surprise, he gave me a quick, chaste kiss on the check before grabbing my hand and leading me back through the office.

  We made our way back to the apartment complex. “There’s a bistro around the corner that we can walk to before your next appointment,” Garrett said softly.

  I nodded. “Sounds great.”

  We made our way down to the lobby and out the front doors to a quaint Italian bistro a few blocks away. Apparently he ate here often, since the hostess greeted him by name and showed us to his “usual table.”

  “Thanks, Sherry. Please have Thomas bring us two mango iced teas and we’ll both have the usual.”

  She nodded and before long we had two unsweetened mango iced teas and two Italian antipasto salads.

  I was elbow deep in my amazing salad when he spoke up. “We need to be back at the complex in thirty minutes. We both have appointments with the salon to get ready for tonight.”

  I must have given him my pissed expression, because he scowled at me and I’m pretty sure he was one second from slapping my leg under the table.

  “Don’t give me that face, Laurel. It’ll be a relaxing afternoon. After the salon, we’ll get dressed and have a wonderful evening.”

  He was right; the rest of the afternoon went by fast. We both ended up having manicures and pedicures. He had his hair trimmed and mine was given long layers and a few highlights. We enjoyed a massage and I had my makeup and hair styled for tonight. I felt like a princess.

  The salon wanted to put my hair into ringlets and sweep it into a sleek updo, but Garrett wouldn’t hear of it. They finally relented and just added some curls here and there, letting it fall naturally. I couldn’t believe the finished product; I almost didn’t recognize the image in the mirror as me. My hair was slightly lighter around my face, helping to frame it, and the makeup was amazing, giving me smoky eyes and bold red lips.

  Several hours later, we exited the salon and made our way up to my apartment. I was surprised when Garrett produced his own key.

  “Do you mind that I have a key?” he asked, noticing my hesitation.

  “You do spend a lot of time around me, plus you’re my emergency contact. I guess it would be all right, as long as you don’t abuse your privileges,” I said with a laugh.

  I went into my room to place my purse on the bed and noticed the tickets to the gala, along with Garrett’s tuxedo, my dress for tonight, and a note from Thompson.

  All arrangements have been made for tonight. Your ride will be ready at 6:30 p.m. – T.

  Before I could say a word, Garrett went into my dresser and produced a red lace corset with attached garters, nude hosiery and a barely there matching lace thong. He laid them gently on the bed, then proceeded to go through my closet and produced the most breathtaking pair of high heels I had ever laid eyes on.

  Since the dress was black, I had thought of wearing black shoes and undergarments. Garrett had other ideas. “These shoes will match the lingerie and help to accentuate the details of the dress.”

  The dress was black and strapless with a jewel-encrusted sweetheart neckline. The material underneath the bustline gathered in form-fitting ruching that continued down past the hipline, accentuated with dotted rhinestones and continuing with a slight flare to the lace-covered mermaid skirt below.

  Cinderella may have had glass slippers, but I had shoes that would make hers look average. The shoes had a golden stem-like heal that extended several inches above the ground and flowed into an opened bloom of a beautiful red rose. The front of the shoe had a strap made up of red rose petals, one with a cute, golden, faux bee. They were the shoes of fairytales.

  My mind was unable to process all that had been placed before me. I could practically hear Garrett smirk. “Seems like I finally found a way to make you speechless, my dear.”

  “I’ve never dressed up like this before,” I admitted.

  His brows furrowed. “You never attended dances in school?”

  “Freddie took me to the prom, because I didn’t have a boyfriend and he felt obligated, thanks to my brother’s insistence. My dress was a hand-me-down from a cousin. I didn’t date much in high school or college,” I reminded him.

  He walked over, brushing his nose across mine and sending shivers through me. “Tonight is your night. I want to show you everything you’ve been missing.”

  My breath hitched at his words and his mouth came crashing down on mine. His kiss was dominating, his tongue probing my mouth as his hands roamed over my body.

  I must’ve blanked during the kiss, because the next thing I knew I was naked under his touch.

  “We need to start getting ready for tonight, Laurel,” he reminded us both, a slow, suggestive smile creeping across his face. “But, we can have some fun while we do. Turn around for me, sweetness.”

  Begrudgingly, I turned around and heard the rustling of clothes. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of his shorts and shirt hitting the bed. What was he up to?

  I felt his breath hot on my neck as he whispered in my ear, “I told you to turn around. If I catch you looking again, I might decide to spank that delightful ass of yours.”

  His hands eased over my shoulders and down my sides; he left one on my hip and the other slapped at my left butt cheek.

  “Aah!” I cried out, but not in pain. I could feel the moisture building between my legs.

  Garrett’s lips slowly kissed up my shoulder, my neck, and onto my earlobe. He bit down on my ear. “You like that, don’t you? You like a smack every once in a while. I can smell your arousal.”

  My body stiffened, not knowing how to respond to what I was feeling. The only time I’d ever been handled roughly was with Chase, and he forced himself on me. Somehow, with Garrett, it was different. He was sweet and passionate, but he also liked to dominate and take control, which made me relax, knowing I didn’t have to think about things. Regardless, some of his more abrasive touches left me confused.

  His voice broke through my thoughts. “Tell me what you’re feeling, Laurel.”

  My voice was shaky. “Confused?”

  He picked up the undergarments before grabbing hold of my hand and leading me into the bathroom. He placed the items on the vanity and turned me to face the mirror. He stood behind me. “What do you see in the mirror?”

  I glanced up, seeing my naked self and his facial reflection behind me. His expression showed that he was expecting an answer. “I see myself. I’m naked,” I stage whispered with a smirk.

  Garrett’s face was marked with a scowl as he wrapped his arms around me, placing his hands over mine. The scruffiness of his beard brushed against my shoulder as his head came to rest close to my ear. “Look again and feel what’s before you,” he whispered seductively in my ear.

  My mouth formed a grim line as I tried to process what he meant. He took my hands and brushed them against my thighs. “Close your eyes and let your mind feel what I see.”

  I closed my eyes and let him guide my hands.

  “Tell me what you feel, Laurel.”

  “Tight, muscular thighs.” I must have answered correctly, because he gripped my thighs firmly and he planted a warm kiss along my shoulder.

  His hands moved mine up to my hips. I was always embarrassed by how big my hips were. I attempted to move my hands further up, but he wouldn’t budge. “What now?”

  “My hips are too round.”

  He grunted with disapproval and I felt one of his hands leave mine before striking firmly against my backside. Normally the move would scare me, but with Garrett, it seemed to stoke some inner fire, making a direct connection with my inner core.

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nbsp; His hand returned to mine and gripped my hips even tighter. His stubble moved along my neck as he whispered in my ear, “These hips are flawless, perfect for grabbing onto while I sink my cock deep inside you.” To emphasize the point, he ground his hard length, now evident through his briefs, into my backside.

  I found myself sucking in a deep breath as I pushed back against him, wanting to feel the friction between us.

  His tongue traced up my neck to just below my earlobe, where he nipped at me softly. “Patience, my love.”

  Did he just say “MY love”?

  He floated my hands along my stomach before they were brought up to caress my breasts. “Tell me what you feel,” he said as his stubble brushed against the side of my face.

  I kept trying to figure out what he wanted me to say. “I sense two soft mounds of flesh that seem to light to your touch.”

  “Tsk, tsk,” he muttered before another smack came across my ass, making my insides clench with excitement.

  Why was this turning me on? Shouldn’t spanking scare me? Somehow I find myself getting wetter with each slap… My head was a complete mess of jumbled up sensation, confusion and desire.

  He kneaded my hands against my breasts, taking my fingers to roll and tweak my nipples. I was surprised to feel them respond to my touch, igniting more longing in my soul.

  “Your breasts are ideal, darling. They fit my mouth and hands perfectly, responding instantly to the slightest of touches.” His fingers took over for a moment as he massaged, then twisted, the peaks, causing my inner walls to clench hard and wetness to start trickling down my legs.

  I wiggled in his grasp, needing some form of release.

  Garrett backed away from me. “I want you to keep your eyes closed and raise your arms.”

  I could hear the rustle of fabric and then felt the presence of soft satin and lace against my upper torso. A few hooks were fastened, followed by the sound of pulling string. He must have the corset against my skin. He worked the laces quickly and expertly; I began to feel the boning within the garment take shape against my skin, forcing me into a perfect posture.