by Olivia Fox
What danger was there in that?
I decided to get grounded again. Practice self-care. Take refuge in my favorite interests. Have some girl time.
I needed to ride Rio to Roxy’s house.
The warm screen porch housed my kitten, Rufus, who slept on the cushion of the rocking chair. He looked so cozy, I didn’t dare to kick him off even though he would cover the pillow with his fur. “Stay right there, you. Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be back soon.” I leapt down the steps and took the path to the barn. Rio heard me coming and whinnied his eagerness to be under the saddle.
Not a day that went by I didn’t give thanks for being able to live on the ranch. Only one percent of people made a living raising horses, and I wasn’t one of them. The puppies brought home the bacon. Purebred, AKC, tiny Yorkies. I raised them and sold them to good owners. Yes, I got paid to pet puppies all day long.
That’s how Roxy and I met. Her beau, Buck, brought her here one day to pick up a pup, and after she opened a bake shop in town, she contacted me again and asked if I wanted to hang out. The welcome invitation saved me from spending most every day alone post-divorce, not keen on being asked a lot of questions about why my husband had run off with someone half his age. Apart from the occasional conversation with one of the hired hands, I became a loner. Roxy didn’t judge me or gossip because Dinkus—oh great, now I used Aiden’s nickname for him — Darwood left me for a much younger woman.
Sometimes my happiness at living on the ranch made me wonder if the universe sent Dinkus as the path to finding this farm and making it mine. It had been in his family for generations, and I would have felt guilty, only California’s community property laws saved his butt. He got the Chevrolet dealership in town that his father had given him and two rental properties. Was it worth it? The humiliation? It slashed my faith in love and the possibility of ever finding a man who didn’t cheat. Jury was still out on that one, but signs pointed towards yes.
Rio, my black Arabian gelding, was just the right size for me. I loved the smell of the clean saw dust that wafted through the air as I tightened his last cinch. “You’re going to behave on the road now, aren’t you?” He pawed at the ground and snorted, eager to start off on his adventure.
Heading down the road, his head bobbed and his ears pointed up like antennae as we passed the pink hollyhocks, so tall this time of year they nodded over the white rail fence lining my drive.
I tied Rio up in the back yard of Roxy’s business where he’d be happy during our visit.
Roxy’s business, Sprinkles, had boomed soon after she started offering cupcake subscriptions. She looked adorable with her feet splayed out in front of her, one hand at her lower back, the other resting on its elbow on the back of an outdoor sofa. “I. Cannot. Believe I am pregnant. Again.” She wore a tight rust-colored jersey dress that displayed her bump to perfection and a pineapple printed T-shirt topper tied over her belly.
“I know, another niece or nephew!” I had joy for her, but the oddest tinge of regret that accompanied it. Was that adulthood? To have two opposing emotions at once?
My heart dove a little at the reminder I had wasted a significant portion of my fertile years. Luckily, Roxy kept plenty of means to douse your sorrow in sugar at the ready.
“Oh mah Gah. What iff dis?” I asked with a mouth full.
“Now that there’s a chocolate bourbon pecan pie cupcake. Buck’s favorite. In fact, now that I think of it, those may be the reason he asked me to marry him.”
“Stop. He adores you. It’s disgusting.” I shoved half a cupcake in my face and spoke around it. “Rock-ee. Cumma ink ob it, gammee a buz-zen uh-ees uh-akes.”
“I can’t understand a damn word you just said.” She poured me a tall glass of iced tea, and I watched the hummingbirds zip in and out of her flower garden. “Drink this and chew your food.” Roxy waited while enjoying the sight of Lola, her Yorkie, panting daintily on her lap. “Now what did you just say?”
“I said. If those cupcakes will land me a guy, I’ll take a dozen home with me, please.”
“Well shut my legs, Scarlett. Are you telling me the thought of having a real man like Dr. Holly is crossing your mind?”
I wondered if I should tell her about this whole Daddy Dom issue and felt a little private about it. Roxy was a sympathetic friend always ready to listen. I realized I wanted to talk about it ever since Aiden told me about his reason for being a daddy Dom. But his childhood story was too private to share. He left behind an unidentifiable yearning, lingering beneath my skin. I craved his touch. Kisses. I even wanted to explore what it meant to have Aiden be in charge of me. The newness of it felt as if tiny bubbles swirled beneath my skin all day long.
“Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell the entire world.”
“Oh my God, this is the fucking best! Yes!” She tried to fist pump, but her pregnant belly grounded her from making much of a visual impact. Her fist pump lacked buoyancy. Roxy licked the pecan frosting off her thumb and leaned closer. “Sweet baby Jesus, please tell me you got laid.” She did her best to lean forward, but the bulk of her belly made it nearly impossible.
I covered my face with both hands and sensed the heat flushing my cheeks at the thought of sharing the whole Daddy Dom topic.
“Are you blushing, Scarlett?”
“I can’t help it. It’s like being a teenager. The only reason it happened is because you insisted he come to help me feed.” I took a swig of iced tea, my face, ears and neck impossibly hot. “Anyway, we hung out and it was great, like fireworks great. As in, I’ve never had sex like that in my life, great. His actions were attentive, nurturing, and… commanding.”
“Oh girl, you better tell me. Don’t leave me hanging like that. What do you mean, commanding?”
I held an apple pie cupcake with vanilla buttercream frosting, leaned towards her and whispered, “He wants to spank me and he wants me to call him ‘Daddy.’” I licked the top of my cupcake, and if such a thing as a dessertgasm existed, I had one.
“Oh, goodie. You landed yourself a Daddy Dom!”
“Wait a minute, you mean you’ve heard of this?”
“Oh please, I know allllll about DDlg. I might as well write the book.” Roxy reassured me, between consenting adults everything goes, and she enjoyed being taken care of by her daddy, whether it meant spanks for funishments or even punishments. She shared her DDlg bag of tricks with me, to help me me drive Aiden wild.
“You’re so pure Scarlett, but before you leave here tonight, I’ll make sure you have everything you need to have that vet crawling on his knees for you. There are quite a few littles in Briarville, believe it or not, and if you and Aiden become an item for real, I can introduce you to them. For now, just follow his lead. If he’s a true Daddy Dom, he’ll know just how to spoil and reprimand you to keep you on edge.”
She scooped a huge blob of cream-colored frosting off the top of her cake and shoved it straight into her mouth. “You need to let me live vicariously through you before you get knocked up and have to sneak sex in when the little monsters are napping. Enjoy your time. Trust me, this—” She swirled circles over her distended belly. “—is not a sexy feel. Naaaauuught sexy. That’s why you need to enjoy your freedom while you can. A happy marriage is wonderful. But kids, kids cramp your style.”
Roxy loved Buck to pieces, but she was real and didn’t pretend to be perfect all the time.
“Not all men are like Dickwad, Scarlett. I know it’s super hard to forget what happened and believe that there are men out there who are loyal as fuck, but the only way you’ll find out if this is a man who would draw a sword for you is for you to take a chance on loving him. Start with sex, though. Sex is fine. Sex is the glue that holds a relationship together. And don’t you dare allow even the slightest bit of guilt enter your head about any of your sexy fun. Open your legs, your heart will open later.”
Aiden
I called her, and found her distance, over the phone, unbeara
ble. We had spent hours together in each other’s arms, naked, and her tone of voice was so formal, I may as well have been a telemarketer calling. So I delivered a low blow, reminding her of our recent encounters. “Don’t fight it, little girl. You know you want me to make you whimper again.”
It pleased me to hear her intake of breath. If I shocked her, she was paying attention. Even though Scarlett stayed married to Dick Nozzle for years, her innocence was in tact. Our date would be one step further along the path to claiming her purity as mine.
Clearly, Scarlett needed time and giving her some would help her realize she missed me. I had called her every night to check on her; a good excuse to be in touch and hear her voice. Scarlett’s voice affected me like no other woman alive. Her speech awakened something deep in the pit of my loins. It coursed through my blood like oxygen. After a few days passed, I let her know what I ached for. “Scarlett, when will you go out with me again?”
She cleared her throat. “You mean, like, on a date?”
“That’s the general idea. Boy. Girl. Go somewhere together.”
“Sorry, I’m outta’ practice. Where do you want to go?”
“There’s an art reception at the Creekside Winery this Friday. The artist is none other than my aunt Summer, so you can meet her and my uncle Bird Dog. They’re the ones that raised me.”
“Wow. Okay, it sounds nice, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“For sure, it sounds fun.”
Her tone remote as planet Jupiter; I sought to bring her back to Earth a little, “I’m not going anywhere, Scarlett. I’ll wait as long as necessary. Besides, I licked you. You’re mine.” And at the sound of her swift inhalation, I thought for sure I’d won. Older, more experienced, and I’d have her where I wanted her soon enough.
At the very moment that generous zap of male confidence flitted through my tiny brain, she whispered to me, “Yes, Daddy. I can’t wait.”
I was toast. Did this mean she was ready?
When she walked down her white front porch steps to meet me on the evening of our date, putting one black, strappy-sandaled heel in front of the other so that her thighs rubbed together and her hips swayed in a dance that would make a Catholic priest weep, I knew she had me at her mercy and not the other way around. No way, no how would I be the victor in this battle of the sexes. My angel was a queen on this night.
Her small hand clutched in mine as we walked from my car past the field of green leafy vines bound to wire and posts—in much the same way in which I wanted to tether her to my bed, wrists and ankles bound. From my height, I looked down and saw the sweet swells of her breasts bobbing up and down beneath the front of her silky, black, spaghetti-strapped tank dress. Men would kill for such a vantage point.
Louis Armstrong beckoned us from the center of activity on the patio under huge live oaks where the reception took place. I smelled Scarlett’s perfume. Did they purposefully make women’s scents smell like something you’d want to eat? Odors like cinnamon, vanilla, and other mouthwatering aromas.
Aunt Summer’s artwork served as a perfect backdrop to the winery’s sampling area. She’d make a killing as always.
We stopped to make sure my princess had a glass of Chablis and some food.
My princess. Enough of that. It was okay to have affection for her, but being a daddy was a whole other matter altogether. I shouldn’t rush it.
Look what happened the last time you thought you could handle your very own little— you gained fifteen pounds sitting on the couch, playing Halo and eating Doritos, you couldn’t open your freezer for months because it reminded you of dino-shaped chicken nuggies, and you had to contact Build-a-Bear like ten times via email and phone to get removed from their damn mailing list.
Be honest with yourself, man. Truth be told, there hasn’t been a woman since that made you want her as your baby girl. Yes, her ex burned her badly. All the more reason she needed reassurance that she had someone to run to when things got to be too much. Someone to rely on.
“Aidee! Come here, precious.”
I felt a distinct squeeze in my right hand, accompanied by a teasing tone. “Aidee?” Scarlett whispered.
I placed the softest of kisses on her succulent lips and said, “Be good.”
“Aidee, sweetie. Thank you for coming, baby boy.” Moving in for her embrace, I noticed that Aunt Summer wore her bohemian fashion—a floor-length, black velvet duster, the front covered in jeweled silver broaches. This time the theme was… nature? One thing about Summer was that there was no pigeonholing her. Scorpions, four-leaf clovers, bumblebees, rabbits, foxes—they created a jeweled menagerie across her frock, over which her silver mane of curly hair spilled.
She turned to Scarlett and, as per usual, dispensed with the small talk. “I’d love to paint you naked, darling. They don’t make women with proper shapes like yours anymore.”
“Now, Auntie, not everyone is an artist like you and is comfortable being painted in their altogethers.”
“Mercy, I can see why you are so crazy about her, Aidee. Those lips. The succulent swoop of her breast.”
I caught Scarlett’s gaze above my aunt’s head and crossed my eyes, causing the little crinkle of amusement on her nose that I was growing to love.
Summer, taking no notice of our exchange, continued chattering. “He went on and on about you, dear. I’ve seen no one so twitterpated since Thumper met Miss Bunny in springtime.”
The next words out of Scarlett’s mouth shocked the hell out of me. “I guess I could let you paint me, Ms. Summer, if you were serious, that is.”
“As a heart attack.” Summer sucked in her breath and grabbed her chest. “I’ll trade you art for modeling. Come by my studio next week; your beau can give you the address. I have so much more than what you see here. Well now, Aiden, don’t let me hold you up. You’ve got wooing to do!” My aunt was gracious, using our date as an excuse to pay attention to the patrons who had lined up behind us. The Bohemian hippy persona was one she wore well, but underneath that identity lived an astute acumen for business.
“What made you decide to pose nude?” I swooped a ripe strawberry into the sour cream and brown sugar dip and shoved it in my mouth.
“Well, I figure, it’s your aunt, so no creep factor there. And besides, I’m not getting any younger.” She took a dainty sip of her wine. “When’s the next time someone will want to paint me in the buff?”
I put my arm around her lower back and drew her to me. “Honey, my guess is you will be paintable to the end of your days. It’s more about what radiates from here”—I tapped the place over her heart—“than what one can see with the eye.”
I would do whatever it took to string Scarlett’s pent-up sexual frustration along to the point where she was ready to beg. I remembered what she told me, that for her this was, “Only a hookup. She wasn’t looking for long-term.” Than why did I feel like I was fighting for my life here? Failure was not an option. I wanted her to let go with me; I wanted to make her lose her mind.
Little did I know, she was about to make me lose mine.
Scarlett
My night out with Aiden was wonderful, he introduced me to everyone he knew at his aunt’s party, which seemed to be most of the people in attendance. My eyes followed him as he deftly maneuvered conversations, standing with his huge hands tucked under his armpits, thumbs out and pointing straight up to the fairy lights that had turned on overhead. Now and again he would pull us aside to talk to me alone, and I luxuriated in the sight of him running his hands through his hair while staring at my mouth.
Staring. Not talking at all. Enough was said between us without speaking, as if words mattered little.
“Well, I’ve had about enough of patronizing the arts. You?” he finally said.
My heart dipped a bit, thinking it meant the date was over. His next words gave me hope our night would continue.
“I have mint chocolate chip ice cream at my place. Fancy some dessert?”
&nb
sp; I had no earthly idea how it happened, but the next thing I knew, double desserts were on the table. Ice cream and, well, implementing my well-laid plan for flipping Aiden’s daddy switch. To experiment, take it for a test drive like Roxy recommended. Kinda like riding a horse before buying it. Same principle.
Everything started innocently enough back at Aiden’s place with me asking, “Hey, I don’t suppose you have any more wine?”
“I do.”
Those two words sounded so sexy. Anything that left that mouth of his turned me into a wanton Wanda, fascinated by him. That voice could read me a cookbook and I’d be listening with my tongue hanging out.
Men Snaring 101 I had covered; like sticking my chest out with the best of them. One way to feel insta-sexy was to arched my back and lift the girls toward the ceiling. My efforts didn’t go unnoticed, and I pretended I didn’t see Aiden staring at the flimsy silk dress that outline every detail of my nipples underneath.
“I want you, baby girl. Will you come to bed with me?” He traced the ridge of my shoulder, flabbergasting how the affected that one small move had on me.
I had gone for years without sex, but being deprived of Aiden for a few days worked me into a lather. “I can’t come to bed. I have to feed the animals in the morning.”
“That’s okay. How about a temporary respite? No sleeping involved?”
I thought of Roxy’s third DDlg tip. I’d pull off the move… after the wine, that is.
The pleasant buzz in my head and the relaxed state of my muscles had me swaying my hips for Aiden’s benefit as I walked in front of him to his room. Tidy and buttoned up, like him. His bed made, not an unfolded scrap of clothing in sight. A leather love seat fronted the huge, metal bed frame, and the newly nefarious Scarlett wondered whether the structure would hold if he suspended me from the box-shaped, metal frame overhead.
Play acting the part of a bold seductress, I grabbed Aiden by the hand and walked him to the leather seat. After tossing out the throw to cover the leather, I patted the spot where I wanted him to sit.