Melt With You

by Alison Tyler

  He wouldn’t look at her as she stroked one fingertip along the line of his jaw, as she undid his forest-green tie, as she took off his expensive suit jacket. He hadn’t told her what he wanted, but she understood. God, if she’d been a man, she would have sported a raging hard-on right now, her cock at full attention. As it was, she had to shift her hips, realizing how wet she’d become already. She loved the way this felt, pushing him down on the bed. He lay on his back, looking up at her.

  Waiting.

  She was brand new at this, but she didn’t want to let on. Feeling so sexy from the way Luke was looking at her, taking power from his eyes on her, she climbed onto the bed, moving between his legs, kissing his chest. He gripped into her long hair, drawing her down for another kiss, and she pulled away.

  ‘You don’t touch me,’ she said.

  His eyes got wider, changing color, first brown, then green. His eye color reminded her of sea glass, broken bits of beer bottles washed smooth from the ocean.

  ‘You don’t do anything,’ she said next. ‘Not without my explicit permission.’

  When he parted his lips, she silenced him with her fingers over his mouth.

  ‘No, baby,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Not a word. Nod if you understand.’

  His eyes got even wider. He looked as if he could not believe his luck, could not believe this was actually happening to him. But he nodded.

  ‘Good. You remember that rule. Don’t speak, don’t even move, unless I say so.’

  Was it the whiskey that was making her talk like this? Or was it the fact that she’d been without someone to share her bed for two months? Or was it the freedom of being all alone with a man who might as well have been a stranger?

  That was why she could talk to him like this. Because she never had to see him again.

  Luke was hard. When she put her hand over the bulge in his slacks, she nearly lost her ability to play the game. She nearly told him to just slip off the pants and let her climb on, cowgirl style. But that wouldn’t have been what he wanted. And knowing she was fulfilling his fantasies turned her on more than she would have thought.

  Slowly, she worked her way down his body, kissing his chest, slowly, oh so slowly. He held himself entirely still, almost as if he believed she would disappear if he moved, if he did the wrong thing. She loved the way it felt to crawl down him, the top of her dress slipping slightly, revealing more of her breasts as she moved. She’d thought tonight was going to end up differently. She’d thought Rowan would come, that he would see her looking like a movie star in her dotted turquoise. That he would take her out behind the gym, and lift the hem of her dress, slowly revealing the tops of her thigh-highs, slowly …

  Didn’t matter now. She was with Luke instead and, if he were a consolation prize, then she should be grateful. Certainly, plenty of the single women from her class would have switched places with her in a heartbeat.

  She’d reached the middle of his body, and she pressed her lips to his cock, still sheathed in his pants. He groaned, and she gazed up quickly at him, a warning look in her eyes. He bit his bottom lip and shook his head, clearly trying to tell her with his actions that he would be good. But she hadn’t told him he couldn’t moan, had she? And what was she going to do if he did? Gag him?

  She continued to work her way downward, undoing the laces on his shoes, slipping off one, then the other. She was the one to undo his slacks, to pull them off him, so that he was left there, in nothing but his blue silk boxers. And then she was the one to take his tie and wrap it around his wrists.

  Luke didn’t tell her what to do. He didn’t say step by step what turned him on. He simply looked at her. Was he daring her with his eyes?

  No. He was begging her with them.

  She found that once his wrists were bound over his head, she loved the way he looked. This was difficult for her to believe. She’d never played games like this with Bryce. Never played games like this with any one of her former beaus. But she felt a sense of power, a delicious sense of control rumbling through her. God, why had she never tried on the role of a dominatrix before? Why had she been satisfied with fairly normal, generally pleasant, everyday sort of sex?

  Luke moved under her, bringing her thoughts back around to him. Having him tied, even as inexpertly tied as he was, put her in control. Once more, she crawled over his body, this time kissing his mouth, spending a long time focused on the way his lips felt on hers. He groaned and arched his body upward, and she could feel how hard he was, how turned on he’d gotten from the little bit of teasing she’d given him so far.

  So damn hard.

  She snaked one hand down beneath the waistband of his boxers and gripped the rod of his cock, never breaking from the kiss. Luke bucked against her, and when she pulled back to look into his eyes, they were dazed. Was it the alcohol? The pleasure? The disbelief that Dorian Martin was a capable Top? Or perhaps all of those things combined?

  Because Dori was surprised, too.

  ‘You like this?’ she whispered, bringing her mouth close to his ear. ‘You like it when a girl does stuff like this to you? When you don’t have to do a damn thing?’

  He licked his bottom lip, staring at her, as if trying to figure out the correct response, the answer that might win him the prize he so desperately sought. She thought of all of those times they’d talked about sex together, kicked back on the cool Spanish tiles of the stairwell in the tower building on campus. She thought about how she’d looked up to him, how even though they were the same age, he’d been so much more experienced, had seemed so much older than she was.

  And then she thought of that Bob Dylan lyric that had been playing when they’d left the reunion – I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now. Her mom had played that song so often when she was growing up, and she’d never understood the lyrics before. Now, looking at Luke, she thought she understood. She thought she understood a lot of things she’d never realized before.

  Rowan had reached the Gilbert Hotel, a place that hadn’t even been built when they were in high school. The site had been an empty field filled with clover and the full white puffs of dandelions, surrounded by the redwood trees that gave their school its name. Now, the trees were gone except for one large beast in the center of the circular drive. A mascot, he supposed. An emblem from the past.

  He thought about Dori, about how they had sometimes skipped class to come to this field. He’d gotten a second-hand motorcycle at the end of his senior year, and they’d ridden on it together, Dori with a sparkling blue helmet the same color that she’d dyed her hair at the year’s end. She was smarter than he was in some ways. He had the numbers down, but she always brought a blanket with them, spreading the colorful quilt out in the tall grass, the two of them hidden from the street by the trees.

  He thought of the way she’d looked in her pegged Guess jeans with the zippers on the ankles and tight-fitting T-shirts. She had a whole collection of concert Tees, and she wore them until they grew soft and faded. Fitting her slim body to perfection. How funny that he was turned on by the feel of worn cotton now, rather than satin or lace. Whenever he came across one of his old U2 T-shirts, now barely threads holding the thing together, he thought of her.

  They had hidden from the world behind those trees. They had held each other and touched each other and taken those first few fumbling steps into an adult relationship.

  It was the first place they had kissed, wasn’t it?

  No. The Majestic. Back behind the theater. But the field came in close second on his list of favorite memories. And now the field was gone, the trees were gone, and all that was left was a $600-a-night hotel. He let a valet attendant take his car, and then hurried into the lobby, eyes scanning the room for Dori, seeing but not seeing the plush surroundings – golden carpeting and antiques in the lobby. Sterile, he thought as he went into the bar, hoping that he’d find her there, sitting at the counter with her friends, recapping the evening in that gossipy way he knew that girls did
.

  She wasn’t anywhere. He searched the room with his eyes, finally landing on the bar where he saw Chelsea. She was sitting with one of Dori’s other friends, Janie. He started toward them when he heard Chelsea say, ‘Can’t believe Dori went off with Luke.’

  ‘She always liked him,’ Janie responded, lifting her drink off the bar.

  Why hadn’t he thought she might go somewhere else, with someone else? Why had he not let that fact figure into his plans? You could control numbers. You could count on facts and figures. But humans – they were the unexpected variable. It was why he’d always been such a loner. He could trust his data.

  He couldn’t trust anything else.

  Dori looked from the boxers to the belt on the bed, and Luke followed her eyes. His body stiffened. He wanted her to use that leather on him. She knew that, but she wasn’t sure that she could. Still, she reached for the belt, and Luke moved without her having to tell him. Moved so that his wrists were crossed over his head, and his backside was exposed, still clad in the luxurious navy-blue silk of his boxers.

  Was Dori supposed to use the belt on his boxers, or on his naked skin? She couldn’t ask him. That wouldn’t have suited the situation at all. Without thinking, she snapped the belt once more and watched him jump. Then, not-letting herself hesitate another second, she flicked her wrist and watched the belt lick at his ass. Luke groaned and bucked his hips, but didn’t say a word.

  Look at her. She was actually doing this.

  Dori snapped the belt once more, watching the leather snap against his boxer-clad ass a second time, and then, moving fast, she yanked down his boxers, before pausing once more to admire him.

  His body was fine. In top shape. But that’s not why she stared. He was thrusting his hips against the mattress as if he couldn’t help himself, and she knew that wasn’t allowed. Not in this world. Not in this little fantasy.

  Quickly, she stroked his ass with the palm of her hand, while hissing, ‘Don’t you even think about it.’ And he stopped. Power flared through her once more. She used the belt on him five times in rapid succession, watching the lines appear on his skin, admiring the way he accepted the pain, almost as if he deserved it. She worked him fiercely, until she couldn’t stand the wait any longer.

  Had this moment taken twenty years to reach? That’s how long it felt to Dori.

  The urgency took over then. She wanted to have him inside her, craved the feeling of skin on skin.

  ‘Roll over,’ she said, her tone commanding in spite of the hunger that flared through her.

  ‘I’ve got a condom,’ he said, as she slid her panties down. ‘In my wallet.’

  She did as well, a string of condoms tucked into the inner pocket of her purse. Condoms that were ribbed for her pleasure, given to her by Violet ‘just in case.’

  There was the fumbling then that had been a part of the sex scene during her whole adult life. Christ, why hadn’t she been born in an era when this sort of thing wasn’t necessary? Since high school, she’d been programmed by the adverts and the magazines to practice safe sex. Still, she managed to sheathe him as his hands were tied, and then climb on top, riding him while he couldn’t get away. Working him, while she was still clad in her turquoise dress, her hips pumping, striving for the pleasure she knew would take her away.

  She knew something else. She’d never wear this dress again.

  Dori rode him, rocking back and forth on Luke’s cock, feeling him reach deep inside of her each time she slid back down, and oh, it felt good. Fucking him felt amazing, really, being astride the king of her campus. Making him gasp for breath as she rode him.

  ‘God, Dori,’ he hissed, staying focused on her until the clouds filled his eyes and he was coming.

  ‘Your turn,’ he said, moments later, his eyes gleaming. He’d just climaxed, so hard, and she would have imagined that he’d be done for the night. And that would have been fine with her. The experience was enough. But he wouldn’t let up. Slowly, she undid his wrists and he shook out his arms, as if to relieve the muscles. She sat back, staring at him, realizing exactly how handsome he was, but finding herself feeling cold at the center. The buzz from the liquor was starting to fade, as was the high from being in charge.

  He got rid of the condom, and finished the alcohol in his glass, before saying, ‘Now, let me try,’ a different mood coming over him. He seemed to want to make sure that she received as much pleasure as he had. Another difference from high school, she remembered with a half-smile. Then, boys had really only seemed to be after one thing. Now, men had been trained to make sure that their partners got their fair share. ‘Did you come?’ ‘Was it good for you?’ But those were entirely different queries than the one Luke actually asked:

  ‘Have you been tied down before?’

  She shook her head. She’d been with one boyfriend who had given her handcuffs as a gag gift, but they’d never used them, and she’d hung them from a drawer handle and lost the key. She had ultimately gotten rid of the dresser, with the cuffs still dangling from that handle.

  ‘Let me show you,’ he said, motioning for her to lie down on the bed. When she did, he peeled off her stockings, slowly, and she shivered at the tickling sensation of his fingertips on her bare skin. Still, she wasn’t ready to let go of the power that had so decadently filled her.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Come on, Dori. I won’t bite.’

  She gazed at him from the bed, arms at her sides, stiff. She was still in her dress, although the top was askew, revealing her breasts nearly to the nipples.

  He started to laugh. ‘You look fucking miserable.’

  ‘Just nervous.’

  ‘You trust me, don’t you?’

  Did she? She might have trusted Luke twenty years before, but she hadn’t seen the man since she was eighteen. She didn’t know him at all. What if he liked to tie women up in hotel rooms and leave them bound for the hotel maids to find in the morning? What if he wanted to do something to her that she wasn’t ready for?

  But the experience they’d just shared was enough to loosen her inhibitions, and the remnants of the high school boy still looked out at her from Luke’s eyes. Slowly, she nodded. Yes, she trusted him.

  Luke tied her down with her own stockings, using one on each wrist. She pulled and discovered that he was more of an expert than she. She wasn’t going anywhere until he said so. Until he let her free. Fear fluttered through her, but the concept made her wet as well.

  He was different in charge. There’d been a sweetness to the way she’d topped him. But once Luke had her bound, he seemed to transform. She remembered the predatory way he’d behaved with girls in high school. How he’d moved from one to the next with such slippery ease. How he’d actually seemed to relish leaving heartache in his wake. As if the longing he created made him more of a man.

  Now, she saw a bit of that character still in him. Saw it when he had her tightly trussed and reached for her purse and pulled out her phone.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  He was down on the bed, and he pushed up her dress and stared at the smooth skin between her legs. ‘I like that,’ he said, eyes bright. ‘That Brazilian look. It always works for me.’

  Then he was between her legs, licking her pussy, but he still had her phone in his hand.

  ‘Smile,’ he said.

  ‘Luke, don’t –’

  Was he getting her back for the things she’d said to him? The images she’d created of him downloading porn onto his X-pod, watching solo when he found himself without ready-made company?

  ‘Come on, baby. Smile.’

  She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. He took the picture anyway.

  ‘Something to look at late at night,’ he said, ‘when you’re by yourself and thinking of me.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘Slut,’ Chelsea said, looking as if she were trying to pull off a joke, but saying the word a bit too harshly to be humorous. Chelsea had left college to marry her boyfriend, Dameron,
knocked up before her second year of junior college. She had wanted to be a … a … what? She’d wanted to be famous. That’s what Dori had always thought. Chelsea had wanted to be on TV, or in movies, but she’d never really had the talent or the drive to work for her goal. Had she been born later, she would have swooned to be on one of those semi-reality shows. MTV’s The Hills or Laguna Beach. Dori could even imagine her on The Real Housewives of Orange County or The Bachelorette. Instead, she was a stay-at-home mother whose kid had left the nest as soon as his feathers were dry, making her simply a stay-at-home nothing, and she was bitter.

  ‘I’m not a slut.’ Dori felt defensive, even when there was no need to be. She didn’t have to prove herself to Chelsea.

  ‘You fucked him, though, didn’t you?’ Again, Chelsea appeared to be making a joke, her coral-glossed lips raised in a smile, her tone purposefully light. But she seemed to be honestly interested in Dori’s answer, as did the rest of the gang.

  Eyebrows went up around the table.

  ‘Isn’t it too early for this sort of talk?’ Violet asked. She looked as if she were trying to hold herself still, to quiet the noises reverberating in her skull. Of their group, Violet had always been the one to indulge too much. Now, no longer a youngster, the morning’s payback was more difficult for her to hide. But even though Violet had come to Dori’s rescue, she seemed as curious as the others as to whether or not Dori had slept with Luke.

  ‘Never too early to talk about fucking,’ Chelsea said with an even broader smile. Yet her eyes blazed ferociously. Had she thought she was the one who should leave with Luke? Had she believed since he’d been King of the Campus and she’d been Queen that they were destined to be together? Didn’t she remember that she’d married her high school beau? Didn’t she understand what destiny was all about?

  Dori sipped her coffee and wondered what her friend would say if she spilled the whole scene, if she described exactly how she and Luke had spent the night. With Luke tied down to the bed with his own tie, arms over his head. With the leather belt in Dori’s hand. Would that vision have turned Chelsea on or off?