The Stonemason and the Lady (Dear Editor Book 2)

by Emily Sharpe

  Jessica's hand had drifted further down as they embraced in the front seat. "Well, hello big guy," she said with an appreciative murmur. "I think those closed doors are about to see some action."

  Worth had twisted his head this way and that. The parking garage was, for the moment, empty except for them and empty, parked cars. It was late and therefore unlikely anyone would be leaving the complex. "Do you remember what you told me about wanting it all," he'd murmured as he played with her hair. "Way back when we were prim and proper and only talked each night on the phone?"

  Jessica had laughed softly. "That roller coaster ride! Of course, I remember. You commented that I wanted to make sweet, sweet, soulmate love on Sunday afternoons after church—"

  Worth had put a finger on her lips to interrupt. "And you said you also wanted to make mad monkey love in the back seat of the car in an airport parking garage." He looked around and then looked at her with a leer. "This isn't the airport, but—"

  In response, Jessica had scrambled over the seat without hesitation.

  Eric finished washing up after dinner while Donna sat at her laptop, scrolling through real estate. Eric's stone work had paid so well since Christmas that they could actively search for a house. Large enough for a family one day and a better-equipped red room now. They still divided their lovemaking between the bedroom and playroom, but thankfully, Lance Glover had not made a huge difference in their relationship.

  Eric's response had impressed Donna—his concern, protectiveness, strength, even his anger. He had been forceful that night. She had wanted to tell him in a way that he could understand, but finally, the night before, she had poured her heart out.

  "I never had that kind of concern and protection from my father," she had told him through her tears. "I didn't know how badly I needed it until that night, when you took charge like that. It was like everything from before, my anger, my hunger to be cared for, it all just melted away. All I could see was you. Until that night, I'd never realized how deeply I needed to feel that way. You really came through for me."

  Eric had hugged her tightly, wiping her face gently. She had drifted off to sleep entwined in the security of their love for one another, the assurance that can be both aphrodisiac and sedative. But long after Donna had gone to sleep, Eric lay awake thinking. Planning. Tonight, he was ready.

  "Well, that's it for the kitchen, babe," he said lightly, wiping his hands on a towel. "I'm fixing myself a drink; would you care for one?"

  "None for me, thanks," Donna said absently. Intent on square footage and backyards, she didn't notice Eric step into the red room and close the door behind himself.

  Several minutes later, he cracked open the door and called to her. "Could you come here a minute, babe?"

  Donna waved at the door, annoyed. "Not now, there's a new development near the river I want to check ou—"

  "I said to come here!" Eric's voice was surprisingly firm. He stood in the doorway, fully clothed, as he pulled his longish hair back into a ponytail. Then he waited, hands on his hips. Just standing there.

  Donna closed the laptop meekly. "Do you want me to change into my boots or anything?"

  "I said to come here."

  When she obeyed, Eric closed the door. Candles were already lit around the room, making their shadows dance on the walls and ceiling. Restraints were attached to the bed in a variety of configurations. Music played in the background, softly enough that it wasn't a distraction, but loudly enough to evoke mood. That's new, Donna thought. The symphonic arrangement had an air of mystery, even danger.

  "Undress."

  Without a word, Donna took her clothes off, amazed at how shy she suddenly felt. This was her husband. This was her sub, for crying out loud! Tonight, though, he was someone else. He was the Dom, and it was quite apparent that he no longer needed to be "talked through" the process.

  Eric said nothing as Donna eased her t-shirt over her head and slipped out of her shorts. She stood there in her lace bra and panties, still wondering at some level if he was going to ask her to take over from there. He held up an accusing finger and made a little noise deep in his throat, warning her. "Keep going."

  Slowly, Donna reached behind her back to unhook her bra, letting it fall to the carpet. She reached down and wiggled out of her panties. Standing in front of the still-clothed Eric, she felt unusually small and vulnerable. The music, however, was suddenly bigger. It seemed to be getting louder, more intense. Donna's heart beat faster. Her excitement was building, that kind of leaning forward down there. A little drip of moisture ran unchecked down one thigh. And we haven't even started.

  Eric sat on the bed and pulled her across his lap. "I can hold you as strongly as restraints," he said, pinning her naked legs with one of his, a vise grip on both her hands above her head with his left hand. "You have been bad, Donna." Whack. "You wanted more, but you didn't tell me." Whack. "You needed more, but you didn't speak up." Whack.

  On and on, the spanking continued, each blow landing a little harder than the one previous as the music swelled. Just when she wondered if this was all that was going to happen here—this punishment—he stopped. Pulling her to her feet, Eric backed her against the closed door.

  "I know what you want. I know what you've wanted from our first night in here. You told me, but I wasn't listening." Eric pinned her shoulder to the door with one hand, as he unzipped his pants with the other. When he took his hand away from her shoulder, his weight against her body still trapped her. He fumbled below his waist, releasing his erection to press against her. A wave of desire shivered through her as his heat almost burned her skin.

  "Are you ready for me?" he murmured.

  Donna's affirmative came out part-moan, part-squeak. The music was building and building, mirrored by their increasingly heavy breaths. Eric threw her to the bed, face down, her legs dangling over the side. Entering her as he pulled her torso off the bed, he thrust slowly and deeply. She felt like a doll in his hands, powerless to move, helpless to change position so that she might benefit from his movements. His thrusts became faster, deeper. He'll climax, and then it will be over, she thought, her heart sinking. I can't… not like this. For reasons she could not explain, she felt as lonely as she had ever felt. And there was nothing she could do to help herself.

  Suddenly, Eric moved out of her and in one swift move, turned her over and off the bed and reached behind Donna's back, grabbing her buttocks. He rested her back again on the door, groaning as he entered her again. Donna wrapped her legs around him; he allowed her the space to move and they began to rock against the hard surface. The feel of her skin against his shirt, her hands on his bare buttocks in contrast, almost sent her to the edge.

  Faster, faster, deeper as the music swelled to its crescendo… "Aaiihh," Donna screamed as she reached her climax with Eric. When he started to disengage, she screamed again, "No! Please, no! Don't stop!"

  Eric pressed her harder against the door. With another groan of ecstasy, she bucked against him, her legs flying up. For the first time in her life, her orgasm brought on a great sob from deep inside of her.

  As her climax slowly melted into bliss, Eric laid her down gently. Supporting himself on one elbow, he used his free arm to cuddle her bent legs into his lap before softly wiping her tears away. "Shh, sweet Donna. Don't cry. Don't cry." Had he misunderstood? Had she not wanted this? Old insecurities threatened.

  Donna's sniffling eased. The music also slowed, got quieter. Why have we never had music before? I really like that.

  Eric lay back on the bed beside her as the next movement of a symphony sounded its opening notes, a more soothing melody. "Donna?" he whispered.

  "Yes," she said.

  He sat up again so that he could kiss her. "Just tell me. I've been selfish, thinking only of pleasing myself. Tonight, was it—"

  "A gift to me," she whispered. "Let's spend the rest of our lives giving each other gifts like this, never holding back, never assuming. Telling each other exactly what w
e need and want—"

  "And meeting that need or want completely. Any time—" he continued.

  "Any place," Donna whispered.

  "Any way."

  They said the last line in unison, "Only you."

  Halloween News

  Autumn may have painted the leaves outside a thousand shades of red, orange, brown and gold, but inside Worth and Jessica's house on a hill overlooking both city and river, the fireplace roared, banishing any chill in the air that had managed to enter whenever a new guest arrived. Eric's handiwork had been one of his favorite jobs. He and Donna had spent many a happy Saturday with the Vincents, talking and laughing as they worked. Donna had become a helpful assistant, making his weekend jobs fly by.

  The house was built to the Vincents' specs. First-time guests oohed and ahhed over the fireplace as they sampled appetizers and drank wine. Jessica had decorated subtly for the party, but the food was appropriately Halloween-themed, much to the delight of the children present. Paul and Skip had adopted a little boy from China. A few of the magazine staff had brought their kids. Angela Henderson toddled around in a mermaid outfit whenever she wasn't on Grandma Carol or Poppa Chet's lap.

  Three years earlier, Carol had managed to change her daughter's mind about choosing a wedding date that commemorated her first encounter with Worth at a Halloween party, wisely pointing out that they would soon tire of spending every anniversary handing out candy to neighborhood children. They had been married on November first, instead. Tonight's party celebrated both All Hallowed Eve and their third anniversary.

  Jessica wore the same costume each year—the same style, anyway. Wonder Woman had given birth to precious Lily eighteen months ago—now playing blocks happily in one corner with her Chinese buddy as his proud daddies supervised. She was pregnant again with what the doctor advised would be a son. She had given up finding a ready-made costume that would fit and sewed one herself. "At least my old boots fit," she laughed as she waddled happily around the room.

  "Hey, Kristina called to tell me that she and hubby may make it for Christmas," Layla said as she adjusted little Angela's "tail". "She said the mountains are beautiful in the winter. Maybe we'll go there instead."

  "How is she doing, really?" Kayla had raved about the transformation she saw in her little sister. Everyone had been concerned about the shy young woman when she came to help with the baby, but since then, her life, her job, her attitude, even her appearance, had completely changed. Visits since then had been filled with exuberance, with joy. And why not? After some trials and tribulations, she'd married the man of her dreams, just as Jessica had.

  Jessica waved across the room to Darth Vader, also known as her husband. He liked to pop his helmet on as he dispensed candy at the door, but otherwise left it on the foyer table. After motioning for sister-in-law Kari to take over candy duties, he threw his arms around Jessica for a quick kiss. Rubbing her prominent belly, he smiled. "My arms won't be able to reach around you for much longer. You really are a wonder, Wonder Woman."

  Jessica patted her stomach. "We have living proof that the force is with you." She giggled.

  Overhearing the exchange, Donna, newly arrived with Eric, groaned loudly. "So corny!" she exclaimed. Dressed as a dominatrix, she confided to Jessica that she hadn't had time to look for an actual costume. "But looky here—I want to give you something. It's an anniversary present."

  Jessica hugged her friend as she took the oblong box, festive in Halloween colors. The Browns had moved into the development first, a few blocks over, about the time Lily was born. Last summer, they'd moved into their own home. She loved being so close, able to share meals, watch movies together occasionally. "Shall I unwrap it now?"

  "Not yet. In here." Donna led her into the kitchen area, where they would have more privacy. "The traditional gift for third anniversaries is leather, so I am dressed appropriately for the occasion."

  Jessica squealed with laughter as she pulled out a leather riding crop. "I may have to hide this for a few months," she said, "or little Greg in here might wonder what in the world is going on!"

  The women hugged again before Jessica retrieved a fresh bottle of Chardonnay from the refrigerator. She was having juice, of course, doctor's orders, but their other guests could partake. Holding it up, she asked, "Is Chardonnay okay with you? There's Merlot in the living room, if you'd prefer."

  Donna blushed. "Just juice for me, thank you," she said quietly.

  The unspoken meaning of her answer hung in the air as Donna beamed. Jessica's eyes grew wide. "What the what? Are you and Eric—"

  "As a matter of fact, I'm due about three months after you," Donna exclaimed as Jessica led the way back to the party. "I'm counting on lots of hand-me-downs." She laughed. "You've got me covered, since you've got one of each."

  Donna held back, enjoying the festive scene. Bits of mica in the river rock fireplace she had helped Eric build glittered in the firelight. She nodded across the room at Carol and Chet, like parents to her now, understanding, always lending an ear when needed. They had entered a second chapter of life together after losing their spouses to accident and disease. She hoped it would be a long, happy chapter ahead.

  Layla and Keith, Kari and Jon, Jessica and Worth, even Kristina and her mountain man. Each couple had a story to tell, but she hoped for the same conclusion: Love finds a way. Love lasts.

  The smile on her face caught Eric's eye as he closed the front door after passing out treats. Zigzagging through chattering guests, he took her in his arms. Beneath her leathers and boots, she'd worn a t-shirt and leggings, so she didn't reveal too much to the crowd; he was dressed as a lumberjack. His hair and beard were long over the buffalo plaid flannel shirt, jeans inside knee-high boots, and the fake ax that hung from his belt.

  "You're looking especially sexy this evening," he murmured in her ear. "Pregnancy suits you."

  "Tell me again when I start showing. A big belly may interfere with… some activities."

  Eric chuckled. "Well then. Whaddaya say we enjoy a great deal of shenanigans before that happens. Starting tonight."

  Donna reached up to kiss him. "Keep the clothes on," she whispered, "but lose the ax."

  THE END

  Emily Sharpe

  Emily Sharpe is the pen name for a writer, editor and illustrator in south Florida. A former newspaper columnist, she loves to travel and perform in community theater. Mother of four and grandmother of five, Emily substitute teaches, sings, volunteers in the community and attends a raucous group of writers once a month called “Use Your Words.” She heartily believes in love and finding one’s joy – and she hopes you enjoy this story of romance. Readers may contact her by e-mail: emilysharpebooks@gmail.com.

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