Civil Savage

by Katherine Anderson

  I don’t know if he’ll answer. I’ve been dodging his calls, it’s only fair for him to dodge mine.

  I try to get some work done in between Samantha’s messages and emails from Mr. Culpepper confirming my new position.

  Call him anyway, Olivia. Do it for me?

  For her? If there’s one thing I know about Samantha Elliot, she’s a hopeless romantic, always on the hunt for a happily ever after for everyone but herself. Fine, Sam, I’ll do it for you.

  YAY! Text him now, do it do it dooo ittt!

  I will, I will. I just need to file these reports for Culpepper first. I’m stalling, of course. The reports were filed and sent before Sam dragged me outside. There’s nothing stopping me from texting Tyler, except myself.

  Just do it, Olivia Jane. Quit making excuses and text lover boy.

  I roll my eyes and pull out my phone, waving it at her from across the room. She shoots me a thumbs up and goes back to typing away on her keyboard. I open my phone and see I don’t have to call Tyler; he’s already texted me.

  Sorry I missed your call.

  That’s all it says? ‘Sorry I missed your call?’ Where’s the ‘Sorry I brought out a belt and acted like a fucking savage’ text message? I take a deep breath, trying to collect myself. The phone buzzes in my palm.

  I take it we need to talk?

  Oh, we need to talk all right. I type out my reply and wait for his response. We do. Are you free tonight?

  Not tonight, I’m working. Breakfast tomorrow?

  Breakfast? Do people still do that anymore? I check my calendar and make sure there are no conflicts. Sure, breakfast sounds good. Where do you want to meet?

  My place, of course. If you don’t mind, that is?

  Do I mind? No. As long as he keeps his belt on, there’s no problem. I’ll be there. What time?

  Let’s make it a late breakfast/early lunch… Brunch? 11 work?

  Sure, 11 is fine. See you then.

  Hey, Olivia?

  Yes, Tyler? Is this it? Is this where he apologizes for acting like a savage? The phone buzzes in my palm one last time.

  Be a good girl.

  I read his last message and roll my eyes, a familiar tingle rolling down my spine. The last time he told me to be a good girl, he wanted me to take my ‘punishment’. Maybe I am a submissive like Samantha says…

  Yes, sir.

  Don’t call me sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  After that, my phone stops buzzing, and I get back to work. I start on a new stack of reports, plugging away at them until it’s time to leave. At a quarter of five, I stand up and make the hike back over to Samantha’s desk to return her jacket.

  “So? What happened? Did you guys make up?” Samantha babbles, bouncing in her seat.

  “No, we didn’t make up. Yet.”

  “What do you mean ‘yet’?” She cocks her head to the side and stares at me. “Do you have a date tonight? Is that what you mean?”

  “No, we don’t. We’re having… Brunch, tomorrow. I’m going over to his place to talk.”

  “And then what?” She raises an eyebrow. “A little bow-chicka wow-wow? You gonna seal the deal?”

  “Samantha Elliot, for the love of God. Keep. Your voice. Down,” I hiss at her. There’s hardly anyone left in the office this time of day, but the people that are left don’t need to know the details of my sex life.

  “Sorry, sorry. But what happens after you have your little tête-à-tête?”

  I sink into the chair beside her. “I don’t know, Sam. It depends on what he has to say. What if he doesn’t apologize?”

  “What does he have to apologize for? You’re the one breaking the rules,” she chides me. I can see her fight herself not to wave a finger in my face. “You need to be a good little sub and apologize for breaking the rules.”

  “Why do you keep calling me a sub? I’m hardly submissive.”

  Samantha looks me square in the face and asks, “Did you actually want Ceilia’s job, or did you take it to make Culpepper happy?”

  Shit, I hadn’t considered that. Did I really want to be department head? Did I really want to make my boss happy, no matter what it might cost me?

  “I don’t know, Sam, maybe a little of both?”

  “I know. You’re a sub, and you live to please your Dom. Your Dom at work is Mr. Culpepper...”

  I shudder at the thought, but she carries on.

  “… and your Dom outside of work is Dreamboat McGee. You weren’t looking for a Dom, but you found one, and you’ll do anything to please him. Right? That’s why you followed his rules?”

  “Yes, up until the point I couldn’t take it anymore,” I say earnestly, staring at my feet. “I didn’t think he’d find out.”

  “Honey, they always find out. He found out you touched yourself, and Mr. Culpepper is going to find out you didn’t actually want the job. It’s up to you to decide how you’re gonna deal with it. But if you ask me…”

  “Yes? If I ask you…?”

  “If you ask me, I say go make up with Dreamboat. There are a lot of gorgeous men out there, but not all of them make you Italian food and buy vibrating panties. Most of them just fuck and leave. Don’t let this one walk out of your life.” She shrugs and turns toward the screen, typing her last email of the day. I slip out of her jacket and hang it on the back of her chair, getting ready to leave. I take a few steps and then hear a pair of feet catch up to me.

  “Olivia, why don’t you let me take you home? You didn’t bring an umbrella, and I don’t want you to get caught in the rain again,” she offers, coming up the hallway.

  “Are you sure?”

  “When have I ever not been sure about giving you a ride home? C’mon, let’s go. You can tell me more about those vibrating panties.” She giggles, looking around like a naughty schoolgirl.

  “Samantha Elliot, are you blushing?”

  “What? No. What?” The rose tint to her cheeks is a dead giveaway. We make it to the elevator and punch the button for the ground floor. The doors shut around us and I turn to face Samantha.

  “Something tells me you’ve never been on the receiving end of those vibrations.” I raise an eyebrow, giving her the once over.

  “You got me. I’ve never had the man I’m dating buy me a set of joy buzzer undies, but…” she leans in, whispering conspiratorially in my ear. We’re the only people in the elevator but I know she’s doing this for the drama. “I’ve bought some for myself.”

  “Naughty, naughty!” I swat at her arm as the elevator reaches the ground floor.

  “Guilty as charged,” she says, shrugging. “If no man’s going to do it for me, I might as well do it for myself.” She leads the way to the parking lot, hitting the panic button to find her car. A grey sedan a few rows away from us lights up and squawks, and Samantha zeroes in on it. It doesn’t matter that she has her name on her parking spot, she does this every time. We make our way through the rows of cars and SUVs, reaching hers just as the skies open up once more.

  “Aren’t you glad I’m giving you a ride home now?”

  “Delighted. Thank you, Sam. How can I ever repay you?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. Tell me about sex with the Dreamboat. What’s he like in bed?” She puts the car in drive and pulls out of the lot.

  I look at the floorboards as I feel the blush rise in my cheeks. “That’s the thing, Sam. We haven’t had sex.”

  Chapter 14

  “Excuse me? You two haven’t had sex yet? What the fuck are you doing instead?” She keeps her eyes on the road, but I can feel her stare go through me.

  “We haven’t exactly gotten there. We started the night he brought me all that food - “

  “Oh, tell him the manicotti was delicious, by the way.” That’s Sam, always happy to clean out my fridge.

  “I will. Anyway, we started to but… He got called away by work.”

  “What does that mean, ‘started to’? What happened?”

  I look out the window and mumble, �
�He had me naked and was about to… You know… And then work called.”

  “You mean he was about to fuck the life out of you and had to leave for work? The man has some nerve,” Samantha says, pulling onto the highway.

  “Sam, my house is that way,” I say, pointing in the opposite direction.

  “I know. We’re taking the scenic route. Continue.”

  “There’s nothing left to say. You know what happened after he left, and what happened after that. I thought we were going to when I went to his house, but…”

  “But he brought out the belt? Girl, you can’t let that stop you. The man makes you food, buys you sex toys, and he obviously cares about you or he wouldn’t have left as many messages as he did.”

  “You think?”

  “I know. You’re a catch, Olivia. You’ve got curves for days, you’ve got a killer personality, you’re funny as fuck, and you don’t take shit from anyone. You’re a bad bitch, Olivia ‘don’t-call-me-Livvie’ Miller. Speaking of which, has he called you that yet?”

  I laugh. “No, not yet. And don’t you dare tell him, either.”

  “Oh, am I going to get to meet this one?”

  I think about it for a moment. “That depends on him. If he wants to stick around or not.”

  “He’ll stick around. Mark my words, you won’t be able to get rid of this one.”

  “How can you be so sure?” She gets off the highway and pulls into a drive-through. She reads the menu and pulls up to the box to order.

  “I just am. You want a milkshake? Mint chocolate or coffee?”

  “Mint chocolate, please.” I pull out my wallet, and she waves me away.

  “My treat.” She orders and swipes her card, sitting back in the seat as we wait. She tips her head back and closes her eyes. “I have a good feeling about you and Tyler, Olivia. You just have to be open to it.”

  “I know. It all depends on him.”

  I close my eyes and lean against the chair. She pays at the first window, then rolls up to the second. A few minutes later, the teenager behind the window hands her the tray with our milkshakes. She thanks him, takes a sip of hers and puts the car into drive.

  “All right, Olivia, let’s get you home. We’ve got an outfit to pick out if you’re having brunch tomorrow.”

  “We?”

  “If you think I’m letting you walk in there all plain Jane, you’ve got another thing coming.” She pulls back on to the highway, going the opposite direction.

  Soon, we pull up outside my house.

  I unlock the front door and Sam barges in like it’s her own place. She’s been here often enough, it might as well be. She heads upstairs, milkshake in tow, and raids my closet.

  I sit on the edge of the bed as she pulls out a few dresses, a jumpsuit, and a romper for me to choose from. She holds each one up to me, cocks her head to the side, shrugs, and throws it in the pile on the bed.

  “Put this on, let me see what you look like,” she commands, handing me the dress she’s been holding. It’s a white pintuck shirt dress; it looks more like a church dress than anything else. I tuck into the bathroom behind her and strip, putting on the dress in a hurry. I smooth it down over my curves, fingers buttoning buttons at a rapid pace. It looks cute, sure, but is it brunch material?

  I step out of the bathroom and stand in front of Samantha. “Ta-da?” I hold my arms out and give a little spin so she can see it from all angles.

  “Now that’s not bad at all! Sweet, classy, and with the right accessories, sexy as hell. What color panties are you going to wear with it? You are going to wear panties, right?” She cocks an eyebrow at me, looking me up and down with an appraising eye.

  “Of course I’m going to wear panties, I’m not a savage!”

  “Hey, I just wanted to check. When Tyler sees you, he’s gonna have a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Make sure you wear a cute pair,” she says.

  “What if I want him to keep his hands to himself?”

  “Then don’t show up? It’s up to you, Olivia, but if I were you? I’d go.” She shrugs as she takes a sip of her milkshake, slurping it down. “All right, my work here is done. Wear your hair down. Show him your natural beauty.”

  “Thanks, Sam. For everything,” I say as I wrap my arms around her. We walk downstairs and out to her car, arm in arm, thick as thieves.

  “Don’t mention it. Just think of me when he’s rearranging your guts.”

  “Ew, Sam.”

  “Kidding! Focus on him when he’s rearranging your guts. I’m out of here, have a good night Olivia.” She blows me a kiss and gets into her car. I wait until she’s safely down the road to head in, shutting the door behind me.

  Later, my phone lights up as a message comes through. Are you being a good girl?

  Am I being a good girl? I take a look at the empty glass in my hand, the bottle of whiskey leaning against my leg. I’ve already had one glass, what's stopping me from having another? I pour another two fingers and shoot off my reply.

  I’m being very good. What about you? I take a sip and wait for Tyler to respond, flipping through late night TV shows disinterestedly as I am propped up in bed. Nothing grabs my attention. My phone goes off and I reach for it, flicking on the screen. A dim blue light illuminates my bedroom as I read his message.

  No, I’m being naughty. He sent a picture, too. I open it; it’s his hand wrapped around a rocks glass, dark liquid swirling inside. I snap a picture of my own glass and send it.

  Great minds think alike.

  A few minutes later my phone pings again. Are you still coming over tomorrow?

  If you’ll have me, I fire back.

  Oh, I’ll have you. Does 11 still work?

  Yes, 11 is fine. I’ll be there with bells on. I take another sip from my glass, setting it on the nightstand. My phone goes off again, and I laugh as I read his message.

  Don’t wear too many bells, I don’t want the neighbors to hear us.

  Oh? What does that mean? Keep it in your pants, big boy. It’s only brunch. Right? It’s only brunch?

  Hungry for anything in particular?

  I’ll have whatever you’re having.

  Good girl. Come hungry. Get some sleep.

  A shiver runs down my spine. Good girl. I down the rest of my drink and turn out the lights. I crawl under the sheets and in moments, sleep claims me.

  Chapter 15

  I wake up late, the morning sun already streaming into my room. I roll over and look at the clock, bolting out of bed when I see it says 10:15. Shit, I have thirty minutes to get ready and get down the road.

  I race into the shower, washing my hair quickly. I don’t have time for conditioner while I shave, nicking myself in the process. Oh, fuck. I scramble out of the shower and slap a band-aid on my knee, rushing to get dressed. I slip into lacy white panties and a matching bra, pulling the dress over my head. I don’t have time to dry my hair; I rub it with a towel and throw it up in a bun as I apply my makeup. Sam said no lipstick; I swipe on a nude color while I call an Uber.

  The app says 5 minutes. I zip around my room, trying to find the matching shoe to the one I already have on. I find it and jam my foot into it, fastening the strap in a hurry. I grab my phone and bound down the stairs in time to see a car pull into the driveway. I slide into the backseat, confirming the address with the driver.

  “The GPS says 15, but if traffic’s good, I’ll have you there in 10. Buckle up.”

  On my way.

  Good. Hope you’re hungry. He attached another photo; I open it and my jaw hits my chest. Where did he find the time to cook all that? My stomach rumbles as I type my response.

  Starving. See you soon.

  I drop my phone in my bag and watch out the window. The same familiar houses pass by and I feel my heart begin to race. I’m not nervous, I tell myself, repeating it over in my head. I’m not nervous; there’s no reason to be. It’s just brunch.

  Of course, if it is just brunch, why did I bother shaving? Why did Sama
ntha pick out a cute dress, and why did I put on lacy panties? My thoughts wander and I can feel myself breathing heavy.

  “You all right back there?” The Uber driver looks at me quizzically through the rearview mirror.

  “I’m fine. Just a case of the nerves. I’m fine.”

  “If you say so. Which house is it?” He pulls onto Tyler’s street and I point out his house. He pulls up in the driveway, and I get out, leaving him a good rating in the app. I make my way up to the door and ring the bell, waiting.

  One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three…

  Tyler opens the door and I feel myself relax. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says, looking me up and down. I feel a blush rise to my cheeks as I shuffle inside, shutting the door behind me.

  “Hi,” I breathe. He pulls me in for a hug, and I get lost in the scent of his cologne. It makes my head swim and my heart race.

  “You look amazing, Olivia. I like this dress,” he mumbles in my ear. I pull back and take a good look at him, realizing I’m overdressed. He looks like walking sex in his tight black t-shirt, his muscles shifting and rippling as he escorts me into the kitchen. I catch sight of his ass in fitted blue jeans, and I have to bite my lip to keep from groaning. Oh, this is definitely more than ‘just brunch’…

  “You have me at a disadvantage Mr.…” Oh, shit, I don’t know his last name. I fumble in the air for a name, and he comes to my rescue.

  “Ames. Tyler Ames.” He reaches for a glass of orange juice from the center island, passing it to me with a grin that looks like the cat that ate the canary.

  “You have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Ames. It looks like I should have dressed for comfort instead of style.”

  “You dressed just fine. That outfit suits you, Ms. Miller.”

  “Oh please, don’t call me that. That’s who I am at work.”

  “And who are you at play?” He takes a drink from his orange juice, staring me down over the rim. Oh, it’s like that. I take a sip from my own glass, watching him intently.