by Gina Watson
She spread her legs open as far as the bonds would let her. On an exaggerated moan she said his name, and he pressed in with his tongue at the cloth-covered juncture between her thighs. Her panties were practically translucent, and the thin strip of material didn’t cover much of anything but her seam. She moved her hips to grind against his tongue, but he grabbed her and pinned her down. She let out a strangled cry. He slowly pulled the wet strip of material aside and exposed her glistening cunt to the crisp night air that further teased her moistened channel. Using his fingers, Camp pulled the outer lips of her sex apart and waited. He watched as her muscles contracted in frustration. She was utterly helpless. Her core was dripping and as he sat watching, more of her moisture leaked from within. It was fascinating.
“Camp!”
Her entire body convulsed as she screamed. He repositioned his fingers, using them to massage her. He sucked and pinched with his lips.
God, she tasted good. He started to tremble.
Another choked-off moan escaped her lips. “Camp please.” The raspy whisper just reached his ears.
“Please what?”
“Please finish me.”
“Are you ready to come?”
“Yeeeeees!”
“First tell me why you won’t give me a chance.” Camp sucked lightly at her flesh.
“What chance?”
“A chance to be with you. A chance to get to know you.”
“I can’t,” Jenny cried.
Using his tongue, he laved painfully slow at her opening to just below her clit and back down. “Who is Andrew?” he whispered against her slit.
Huffing, and squirming, she replied, “My brother.”
Camp kept up his attention between her legs. “Why doesn’t your mother take care of him?”
She lifted her shoulders from the bed and attempted to bring her thighs together to fight the need he’d pushed her into. He doubled his efforts, licking ever so slightly up and down her crease while using his fingers to massage just the outer lips. He knew his touch was too light to set her free.
“Camp, please.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!”
“If you answer my questions, I’ll take care of you. That’s the deal.” He spoke against her thighs so she could feel the sensation made by the vibrations of his mouth. “Why does your mother not take care of Andrew?”
“Ugh!”
“If you don’t answer, I untie you and let you take care of yourself. The choice is yours.”
“Because she”—Jenny gasped and writhed—“because she can’t.”
“Why?” Camp used the crop to lightly slap her swollen flesh.
Jenny cried out. “She’s dead. My mother is dead.”
Camp was stunned. Her mother had died? Somewhat recently, depending on how old the child was. Given the conversation he’d heard, he would guess no more than five years.
“Camp, please.”
Jenny’s plea got through to him. He wasn’t quite done with his questions, but he needed to hold her so that meant he needed to release her. She didn’t protest. When she was free, she climbed on top of him, straddled his thighs, and slowly lowered herself onto his erection. She rode him slow and steady at first, then she became erratic and frenzied. She kept going until she wasn’t able to keep the pace and collapsed on his chest and started to sob. Sobs turned into moans, moans turned into wails. She beat at his chest with closed fists.
All the while Camp just took it from her. She’d been angry when he’d met her. Clay had told him there was something burning inside her, said he’d seen it time and again at the club. Women went in to be dominated and taken to a place free from all their problems.
Jenny’s wrath eventually burned out. When she was weak and exhausted, she lay down next to him and curled into his side.
“Jenny, what are you angry about?”
“I’m angry because I don’t get to live the life I want.”
Bingo. He turned into Jenny so that they were facing each other on their sides. “Why can’t you have the life you want?”
“I have my autistic brother to take care of for the rest of my life.”
Well, damn. That was certainly a reason to be angry. She was Andrew’s provider and caregiver. And he was the one with autism. That was a lot for anyone to take on, especially a sibling.
And autism must have its challenges. He thought of Mandy’s cousin and how it would not do to leave him unsupervised. One night he’d gotten out of bed and took off on foot in the direction of “the beam in the sky.” It had turned out to be a spotlight at a car dealership. He’d been picked up by the police for trying to cross the interstate on foot. Now that he was older, however, he was in some kind of vocational day program.
“Maybe when he’s older he can get a job.”
Jenny sat up and wiped at her eyes. “He’s seventeen now. I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
He followed her into a sitting position. “He’s seventeen? When did your mom die? And where’s your dad?”
She blew out a long breath. “Nine years ago, I was eighteen and in the air force, attending the center for professional development. I was training to be a defense finance manager. My parents died in a fire. Andrew got out, but they didn’t make it. I left the air force to care for Andrew.”
Damn. So she’d lost both parents and her future. Andrew would have been about eight at the time.
“Where are my clothes? I need you to take me home.”
“You said you were free for the night and we’re not done.”
“I need to go.”
“We’re not done.”
Jenny looked up into Camp’s eyes. “I can’t accommodate you right now.”
“I don’t need accommodating.”
“Well, what the hell do you want?”
Camp pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I want to be with you, day and night.”
She shook her head. “My nights belong to Andrew.”
Camp pulled her into his chest and wrapped his legs around her. “All right, then. I want to be with you and Andrew.” He kissed her cheek. “I need to be with you.”
And she needed him.
She just couldn’t see it.
6
Jenny was singing as she idly folded laundry. She seemed to be singing a lot more lately. She knew it had to do with how things had been going with Camp, once he’d finally gotten past her defenses. She’d wanted to say yes when he’d asked her out so many times before, but Andrew required all of her extra time and she’d not thought it fair to subject another person to her endless problems.
Jenny had been delighted to see Camp at the lounge. As far as she knew, she’d never performed for friends or coworkers. She wondered how he knew she’d be there, but he seemed dead set on keeping that to himself. His words after she’d finished her set had meant everything. Had he really said, You are beautiful, and my God, when you sing, you are celestial? She never wanted to forget that—celestial. Then he’d taken her back to his childhood home and extracted her secrets, secrets she didn’t even want to face herself. Lord, how he’d looked standing at the end of the bed, his gaze intense on her and the riding crop loose in his hands. He’d looked dangerous. And powerful. And hot.
His tight trousers had hung low on his taut, muscled, and veined body. He’d burned in his intensity, and his eyes had become a vortex in a storm. That night she actually thought it might be possible to catch fire. The ignition point would have been her burning sex. It was burning for him now.
She’d finally agreed to let Camp meet Andrew. She’d done it before. But only a couple of times. He’d met Richard. But that hadn’t turned out well for any of them.
She’d met Richard when she was in the air force. Three years later, they’d maintained their relationship long distance while he was overseas. When he returned, Jenny had been twenty-one and very much in love. But Andrew hated Richard. They’d tried to introduce Andrew to the idea of
becoming a family and slowly Richard had started coming around more, but Andrew had become increasingly more aggressive toward him. One morning Richard went out to his car to find that Andrew had taken a hammer to it. It had been so bad his insurance company declared the car a total loss. Andrew had been only eleven. Jenny couldn’t expect Richard to stay around after that.
She’d already decided that if Andrew didn’t warm to Camp, she’d have to let him go, but her mind couldn’t zero in on what to do if Andrew were to like Camp. Where would they be then? It was probably nothing to worry about because she was ninety-nine percent sure Andrew would never warm to any man.
≈
Camp was running a brush through his hair. He’d just showered and was about to go downstairs to make sure everything was just as he wanted it. It had taken several weeks for Camp to talk Jenny into letting him meet Andrew. Today was the day.
When Camp found out Andrew loved horses, he contacted his father. Jenny had told him she was worried about Andrew becoming aggressive toward him. Evidently that was how her brother dealt with the men in her life, and dealing with the drama and trauma had taken a toll on Jenny. As Camp understood it, that was why she’d decided she couldn’t ever be with anyone.
He was going to make it his mission to bond with the kid. And he’d begin with horses.
At Camp’s request, his father had acquired a relatively young Missouri fox trotter. He’d told his father that above all else, it was imperative the horse be gentle. He’d worked with the breed before, and they’d all been gentle and calm. Dreamer was no different; she would go anywhere he pointed her head. Still, Camp was a little worried because while Andrew loved horses, he’d never ridden one. Camp had been working with the horse daily, relieved that neither yapping dogs nor racing rabbits bothered Dreamer’s calm demeanor. She didn’t spook easily and had even remained calm around a backfiring car.
Today was the day he’d meet Andrew. He and Jenny were headed to the estate right now.
Camp had done his research, and at first he’d been overwhelmed. There was a wealth of information about autism that had left him frustrated. After reading for hours he’d come to the conclusion that nobody had answers. He’d come up with his own plan since it wouldn’t do to have Andrew getting hurt. He planned to be consistent and make his expectations clear.
He’d put together a checklist of tasks that needed to take place before Andrew could ride. Jenny had told him that lists were an important part of Andrew’s daily routine and that without them he was lost. Camp guessed such structure could work to his advantage. After all, he was a planner and a lists kind of guy too.
When they pulled onto the estate, Camp was standing on the front porch. As soon as the car was parked, Andrew jumped out and inquired about the horse.
Jenny was explaining to Andrew that he wouldn’t be riding today. Camp had told her to make sure he was clear on that point.
She asked, “Andrew, what are you doing with the horse today?”
Andrew rocked on one leg and held his gaze to the ground. “Grooming.”
“That’s right, grooming.”
Camp walked up to them. He wanted to embrace Jenny, but he needed Andrew to accept him first, so he just nodded to her. She seemed timid when she nodded back.
Jenny placed her hand on Andrew’s upper arm. “Andrew, this is Camp.”
He looked up at Camp’s shoulder. “Camp has a horse named Dreamer.”
Camp nodded. “That’s right. I understand you like horses.”
Andrew said, “Yes. And dogs.” He resumed his rocking behavior. “Andrew has to learn the rules first.”
“There are a few rules to learn for your safety and the safety of the horse.”
Andrew flapped his hands and asked, “What are the rules?”
“Let’s go into the house and I’ll show you.”
Andrew, with nut-brown hair and chocolate eyes, favored Jenny. His voice was low, and he had the same copper highlights in his hair that were so alluring on her.
Andrew and Jenny followed him into the large home. He took them to the kitchen where a poster board rested against one wall.
Andrew read, “Meeting Dreamer for the first time.”
Camp said, “That’s right, keep reading.” Camp had numbered each bullet point, but he covered all but the first with paper so he could control the pace and ensure that Andrew truly understood.
“When meeting a horse for the first time, always stay toward the front, left of the horse.”
Camp clarified, “Always front left. If you stand at the back, the horse might kick you hard.”
Camp exposed the second rule.
They read through each rule in the same manner, Camp always following up to confirm Andrew understood the rule. When they finished, Camp took Andrew to meet Dreamer.
Camp told Andrew to wait until he gave him the all clear signal to come into the ring and approach Dreamer. He stood with Jenny against the fence and waited.
“Okay, Andrew.” Camp waved him in.
Andrew walked in a calm but deliberate manner just as Camp had instructed. He stood to the front left of the horse and extended the back of his hand to her nose. Dreamer sniffed his hand and snorted. Then she rubbed her cheek on Andrew’s hand. Andrew called her by name several times and exhaled near the horse’s nose, going through the rules step by step. Camp handed him a curry comb, and Andrew massaged down the left side of the horse as Camp instructed.
Jenny stood at the fence and watched; occasionally she’d give a wave. He hoped she was pleased with how things were going.
He was beginning to understand the boy. Andrew was like a horse—he startled easily and was very cautious. He needed clear and deliberate instruction. Camp imagined that if Andrew could live in this bubble on the estate, protected by boundaries, he would probably be just fine, but life wouldn’t allow that. There would always be intrusions from the outside world. And life, as it inevitably did, would remind him that he wasn’t immune in his bubble. That same thing had happened to Camp when he was a teenager. His prized Tennessee walker, Noah, had died abruptly. The death had been hard on Camp. The memory of his loss had him wondering how Andrew had processed his parents’ deaths.
Just as Andrew was building trust with Dreamer, Camp was doing so with Andrew. When Camp walked Jenny and Andrew to their car, he asked if he could join them for dinner at their home. Andrew answered, “On Saturday we order pizza, and I play online computer games.”
To clarify, Camp asked, “Andrew, can I join you for pizza and hang out with your sister while you play games?”
“Yes.”
Camp shrugged and with wide eyes looked to Jenny.
Jenny smiled at him. “Seven o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.”
Andrew lifted his hand and offered Camp an awkward wave. “Bye. Thanks for letting me meet Dreamer.”
≈
After pizza, Andrew retreated to his room to play on the computer. Jenny cleared her throat and said to Camp, “He’ll be in there the rest of the night.”
Camp was relieved because he needed to drop a bomb on Jenny and he needed her to seriously consider his life-changing proposal. “Where’s your bedroom?”
He had a plan and for what he had to tell, he needed her frustrated, writhing, and on the brink of climax, or there would be no way she’d agree.
Once her bedroom door was closed, Jenny turned and pulled his hair hard as she slammed their mouths together and took what she needed. He roughly undressed her, removing her pants and ripping the buttons on her blouse, jerking it down her arms. Her hands were trapped in the shirt, and he used her inability to free herself to pull her arms behind her and push her down to the bed.
“Can you keep quiet, Jenny, or shall I gag you?”
Her voice was breathy—aroused and arousing—when she said, “Andrew wears earphones, but I’ll try to be quiet.”
“Good girl.” He used his open palm to smack her right ass cheek.
Ov
er the past few weeks they’d fought and talked and fought some more. He understood her more now. She considered Andrew her burden and didn’t want to impose on Camp. She’d said her greatest fear was that she’d wake one day and he’d regret ever having met her. That saddened him at first, but then he became angry that she would think that of him. Given her past he understood and he let it go.
She’d said she didn’t feel in control of her life or her future. That helped him understand why Jenny liked rough, angry sex—it was an outlet for her frustration—If that was how she needed it, he’d comply, but he hoped one day she’d appreciate slow, sensual fucking too. He loved it rough as much as she did, but sometimes he needed to connect with her in an atmosphere other than one painted with anger. When she was sleepy and sated she was open to tenderness, but that was the only time she’d permit him to love her gently. And even that was tricky. She didn’t like making herself vulnerable, and being able to bolt home was an easy out for her. He’d asked her repeatedly to move to the ranch so they could all live there together, but she continually refused.
Once he was naked, he sat next to her as she lay helpless and face down on the bed. He pulled her to her side, her back to his front, and slid his arm over her hip and around to the front of her body, tracing down her abdomen and between her legs to massage her sex. With his other hand he pumped into her with two fingers from behind until she was softly mewling.
When he had her at the point of climax, he balanced her there and told her what he’d been working up to for the past few days.
“Jenny, I want you and Andrew to move in with me. We’ll live at the estate. I’ve already cleared it with my father, and I’ve contacted a sitter as well. She has twenty years’ experience working with special needs individuals.”
