He sighed. “I’ll get my PR people on it when we get in the car. They’re pretty good at damage control. I should warn you, once they get your name, your website will be hammered.” He sighed again, looking stricken as he seemed to realize something.
“You’ve been seen in that dress by a whole lot of journalists and society people this evening. There’s a much better chance the assholes will find out who you are this time. If you want to edit or take something off your site, or anywhere else online, you can use my tablet to do it in the car.” He looked miserable as he said, “I’ll need to go through your site and harden it. The hackers of the world will take great pride in taking down my girlfriend’s website. I’ll also set you up with an email address on my servers so you’ll have an address for your contact page, to keep them from hacking your personal email.”
“This is your life, living in the public eye. How do you do it?”
He shrugged. “It comes and goes, but with a new woman in my life they’re bound to be a pain in our asses for a while.”
Travis asked the manager to have his car brought around as he paid, and Cara had a feeling the staff were accustomed to helping their patrons avoid the paparazzi.
She let him wrap his arm around her protectively as they walked out the door, expecting the worst. There were only two photographers, but both managed numerous shots before Travis helped her into the car. He didn’t run around to his side, but walked as if no one was around, and she envied his insouciance.
When he was in the car, he pulled his tablet from behind her seat and placed it in her lap. “Take your email address off your site, and any other contact information. I’ll harden it when we get home and put another address on the contact page — one I’m sure can’t be hacked. I’ll have it forward to your regular email so you won’t have another account to check.”
She noted he checked her seatbelt from inside the car, instead of leaning in to fasten it as in the past, but didn’t comment on the difference. She’d never had a date see to her safety before, and no matter when he checked, she liked the way it made her feel.
Cara had assumed they’d stay in Atlanta but Travis merged onto the interstate towards Chattanooga.
“Where are we going? Weren’t we just a few blocks from the condo?”
“I want to take you to my house, Cara. My home. And we need to have a conversation. I let you get away with not talking before and I think it was a mistake. We won’t do anything else unless I know what’s going on in your head.”
She sighed, but decided to just tell him instead of waiting to answer his questions — the easiest way to avoid being given the third degree was to talk before he had a chance to interrogate. She laid the tablet in her lap. “You were right. I like it rough. Apparently, you’ve ruined me for merely rough, though — it doesn’t do anything for me anymore.” Her throat constricted, making her voice break as she blurted, “He undid his belt to take his pants off, and I wished he’d hit me with it.”
Tears cascaded down her cheeks with no warning, and she talked through them. “But of course he didn’t. He just stripped and fucked me and called me bitch and all the words that usually work and got himself off with my body and it didn’t do a damned thing for me.”
She was sobbing before she finished, her words coming faster and faster, and she put her head in her hands, wishing her hair was down so she could hide behind it as it fell around her face. The tears flowed nonstop and sobs shook her entire body.
They were approaching an exit and he took it, swinging into a convenience store parking lot and turning to her before he reached a complete stop. One hand rubbed her back, the other went to her arm as if he wasn’t sure how best to hold her while she leaned over, racked by tears.
“I’m sorry.” He said. “It wasn’t my intention to wake this up in you and then desert you. If I’d known, I’d have insisted you let me remain a part of your life, even if only by telephone or email. But,” his voice broke a little as his own emotions came to the surface, “I thought you’d be better off without me in your life. I’m so sorry Cara.”
“It’s not your fault.” She talked into her hands. “I’m the one who pushed you away.” She hated the way she sounded when she cried, but couldn’t stop.
He kept rubbing her back. “Can I just take you home, to my house, and cuddle with you tonight? No sex yet? I think we should wait to figure things out and I don’t want to push you away again.”
“You want honesty?”
“Please.”
She was still crying but her words came out better, without whining. She lifted her head and looked at him. “I’ve dated assholes and jerks who could give me the kind of sex I needed, but they’re terrible boyfriend material. Relationships don’t work because I could never have an orgasm with someone who liked me — the person inside the body. You’re a good man who I think will treat me rough in bed. Don’t blow it by cuddling with me tonight. Please.” The last word came out as more of a whine than she liked, and she looked back down at her hands and took a deep breath, determined to get her tears under control. “I don’t cuddle. I’m sorry, but...I just can’t.
He sighed. “Then maybe I should take you home and pick you up tomorrow for breakfast, like we talked about in the first place.”
Cara looked up, surprised he was turning down her offer for sex. He gave a shy smile. “I’m serious about this Cara. It...it’s been hell without you in my life. I don’t want to push you away again, and I plan to make sure you’re ready for whatever I show you.”
Her sobs had weakened and she gave a frustrated laugh. “I fantasize about being tied to that big X and you flogging my back and ass. I lust after strange men’s belts, wishing they’d take them off and thrash me. I don’t know how it’ll actually feel, but in my fantasies it’s...”
She’d reached her limit for no-holds-barred honesty, apparently, as she couldn’t bring herself to finish. Travis’ hand stroked her back and travelled up to her neck, skin on skin, and she felt her pulse quicken.
“I can make it good for you.” He said, his voice deep, confident. “I think you’ll like it if you’re introduced the right way, and I want to be the one to teach you. Please Cara, give me time to make sure you’re ready.” He sighed. “It seems my will power isn’t as strong as I’d hoped. I’ll give you another hand spanking tonight if you want, and I’ll cuff your hands over your head while I fuck you if you ask nicely, but that’s as far as I’ll take it tonight. If that’s not enough please tell me now and we’ll hold off until I’m sure you’re ready for more.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me beg for a damned spanking. Have I lost my mind?”
* * * *
When Cara awoke the next morning she was disoriented with no idea where she lay. A warm body was tucked behind her and she was in a huge bed with columns at the corners looking as if they were imported from some Greek ruin, with metal wire running over the top. No, not wire, but thick pieces of metal giving the appearance of vines. Some artisan had worked a long time on... Ah, that explained it. Travis. She was in bed with Travis. Damn, she’d fallen asleep in the car on the way home. She vaguely recalled him waking her enough to help her into bed.
She pulled the sheet and blanket away to look at herself and discovered she wore panties and nothing else. She wondered about her bra and remembered it’d been built into the dress.
His arm draped over her torso, holding her, and she gingerly turned to look at him. God, he was such a geek. A perverted and very rich one, but when sound asleep he didn’t have the aura of confidence that took him from egghead to sensational genius. She was pretty sure she’d fallen for him, so it looked like he was her geek now. Or she hoped so, anyway.
Feeling a bit naughty, she slid under the covers and took him into her mouth. He was completely soft and fit comfortably. She ran her tongue around the head and felt his hand caress her hair.
“Good morning, Cara Mia.” Her heart swelled at the term of endearment, and she swirle
d her tongue and gave him some suction.
He inflated in her mouth and she was surprised to find herself aroused. She’d gotten off on men fucking her face, but had never enjoyed giving a blowjob. Now, with Travis, she loved the sense of power it gave her — pleasing him, making him hard.
He began moving his hips a little as she worked, but just when she thought he might lose some of his iron control he pulled her up and kissed her. She backed away from the kiss and he immediately released his grip, so his hands were still on her but no longer held her.
“Why’d you stop me?”
“Because much more and I would’ve started fucking your mouth and we haven’t talked about that yet. I have no idea how you feel about it, or if you’ve ever had a cock down your throat.” He looked to the side, past her, with pain showing in his eyes. “I never want you to look at me like I’m a monster again.”
Cara knew it was time to tell him the truth and let him off the hook. She kissed his cheek and rolled to the side, into his field of vision. “I would’ve called you today. Or maybe emailed if I wasn’t brave enough to use the phone. I was kind of close to it anyway, but the pictures at the gallery last night...” She stopped to organize her thoughts. “It was like the final puzzle piece, the last line of code to put it all together in my head. The people being hurt had this look of total adoration, and sometimes love, even though you could tell they were suffering terribly. Some of the photos were intense, and you just knew the pain had to be excruciating, yet you could see the bliss and trust and love battling the agony on their face.” She took a breath and laid her heart out, hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t crush it. “I think I can have that with you. I want to try.”
He studied her face, as if judging her sincerity, and finally drew her into his arms.
She let him hold her a few minutes but felt the edges of panic creeping in and gently pushed back.
His gaze met hers again as he let her push away, and he gave a small nod and said, “I want to try, too.” He took a breath and appeared relieved when she only pulled a few inches away and stopped. “Okay. You don’t cuddle, I remember.” He smiled. “Let’s eat some fruit to get something on our stomachs, brush our teeth, and take a shower. I need to ask a handful of questions while we eat, and then the scene will start in the shower, if you still want me.” He paused, looking uncomfortable as he added, “And we need to talk about the damned gossip sites, too.”
She’d decided at some point she didn’t care about them, and said, “They don’t matter. They’re part of your life and I’ll just have to get used to it.”
“I hope you still feel the same in a few minutes.” He ran the back of his fingers down her jaw. “I’ve been on the phone with my PR people several times throughout the night. I also hardened your website when we got home. Your service provider has stalled your account, as you’re way over what your plan will handle, so people get an error when go to your site, for now. I can move you to one of my servers but didn’t want to hack your domain account.”
“How did you harden my site without the password?”
He raised an eyebrow, his face silently asking if she really needed him to spell it out. She sighed. “You hacked in, of course. Well, thanks, I guess. I don’t want to deal with my website right now; I’ll decide how best to handle it later today. What are your PR people saying?”
He shook his head. “They followed us when we left the restaurant and must’ve used a zoom lens to get pictures of you crying in the car when we stopped. There’s all kinds of speculation about why you were in tears. They know you were in Atlanta for the gallery showing and the gossip runs the gamut from the starving artist who sells her body so she can be true to her art without worry of it bringing in an income, to you being my girlfriend and my arranging for your art to get noticed, to...well, some of it’s really out there.”
The photos and gossip had nearly crushed her before, but now she couldn’t bring herself to be too upset. It was almost funny, in a way, though she figured she wouldn’t think so when she talked to her dad later. Ugh.
She shuddered, not ready to think about family yet. “So, what do we do?”
“For now? Nothing. Your website and email should be safe. If you’ll give me a phone number for Papa Bear I’ll have one of my attorneys call him to detail how best to keep the paparazzi out of the yard, though you won’t be able to keep them off the street in the front of the house.” He shrugged. “I know a few legitimate journalists who’ll be more than happy to interview me, or us, if my PR people advise us to go that route. Honestly, it’s best to just be aware of what’s going on while ignoring them.”
“Once it hits the net my cell phone will start ringing. I need to make sure it’s charged.”
He closed his eyes, and opened them to cautiously say, “Cara, it’s already on the net. I silenced your cell so you could sleep. If you don’t have your charger I’m sure to have something that’ll work.”
“No, it should be in my purse. My mom’s probably frantic I’m not answering.”
“I’m sorry, should I have wakened you?”
“I don’t know...just don’t turn the ringer off again without checking with me, okay?”
She talked to her mom, Kiki, and Papa Bear, but didn’t return anyone else’s call. Travis handed her his tablet as they sat down to eat and she looked through a few of the sites. It was strange, seeing pictures of herself, having them note which designer had made her dress and how much it’d cost. Everyone assumed Travis had bought her the dress, which was true, but it still pissed her off and she said, “I’ll buy my own damned clothes from here on out.”
He smiled. “It doesn’t matter who paid for anything, they’ll print whatever will bring the most eyeballs to their site.”
“You know what? I’m tired of giving them my attention. No more talk of paparazzi gossip assholes, at least until dinnertime...or, whenever you take me home. Deal?”
* * * *
Cara wore one of Travis’ robes. It was huge on her and he’d rolled the sleeves up until the cuffs were like giant donuts around her wrists, and it trailed behind her like a princess’s wedding gown, but she loved the weight of it around her shoulders. She snugged it around her before choosing a strawberry, and remembered the robe at the condo in Atlanta. “You don’t keep women’s robes here, for guests?”
He shook his head. “I play a lot in Atlanta, not so much in Chattanooga. The condo is mostly for entertaining, but this is my home. I don’t bring people back here.”
“But, you brought me?”
He swept her hair behind her shoulder. “You’re special, Cara. I’ve had to learn to guard my privacy, and only friends are invited here. I hope you’ll be much more than a friend. I wanted to show you my home.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she took another bite of cantaloupe. Travis reached for his spoon and asked, “So, can you tell me about your research? You said you’d joined a site?”
She told him about joining Fetlife and he let her talk for a while before he took charge of the conversation, asking questions about what she’d read, what other websites she’d visited, and what she’d been told online by the people she’d friended. He wanted to know what had turned her on, what turned her off, what was scary but she’d like to try anyway, and what was too frightening to even consider. They talked about whether she wanted to submit to him or thought she only needed the pain.
She still wasn’t comfortable talking about these things but finally understood he wouldn’t know what she was thinking unless she told him. She pushed her shyness aside to look him in the eyes and say, “From what I’ve read, I don’t believe it’s the submission I need as much as the objectification. I think I’m probably a masochist, but I don’t feel very submissive.”
“So for now we’ll focus on objectification and masochism. Last night you said you liked to be called bitch. Do you want me to call you names?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, but I’m not sure. It was okay for jerks and as
sholes to call me crass names but I’m not sure it’ll feel real if you do it. I can’t imagine you saying it and meaning it.”
A cold smile made a brief appearance before he whisked it away with a warmer one. “I can assure you I’ve called a lot of women bitch and whore and cunt, and meant every word. But you’re correct, with you...” He looked away, thinking, and turned back, meeting her gaze. “I’ll play it by ear and if something feels right I’ll use it. If I call you a name you don’t like then yellow for me, okay? I don’t want to say anything to spoil the mood for you, but understand I won’t say anything solely for your benefit. If I call you a name it’ll be because it feels right, but it needs to be good for both of us.”
“You aren’t used to this. It’s just been about you, hasn’t it? Not having to worry much about how the other person felt?”
He shook his head. “No, not as much as you’d think. In some ways it was, but even though they were paid to accept whatever I did within their boundaries, I still took the time to learn what they could and couldn’t handle, what worked for them and what didn’t.”
“Will you still need that, with them? I mean, if I’m a total wimp will you need to hurt them since you won’t be able to hurt me?”
“I hadn’t thought playing with others would be an option if we became exclusive.”
She’d considered this and knew what her answer had to be. “If it’s something you need, and if I can’t provide it, then I’d be okay with it. I wouldn’t want you fucking them, but if you needed to hurt them or, whatever, and then vent your sexual energy on me... I’d be good with it. I mean, if I can’t give you what you need.”
He tilted his head as if he weren’t sure what to say, finally settling on, “Thank you for the offer but let’s play it by ear.”
They spent a long time in the shower. He washed her first, going so far as to stick a soapy finger up her rear, and then thoroughly rinsed everything with a strong shower spray. He talked her through cleaning him and let her spend a little time playing with the soap on his cock, and indulged her with his frustration as she enjoyed bringing him to the edge and backing off. She knew this wasn’t something he’d let anyone else do and loved that he gave her free rein.
Safeword: Quinacridone Page 9
