by Rose, Renee
She forced a little smile.
“I should have slowed things down by taking you out to dinner and getting to know you better. I just—well, I’m a guy. We compartmentalize things. I shifted gears without giving you what you needed.”
She stepped closer. He knew she wanted to be held.
Fuck it.
He drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Lucy. Or to make you feel used. I really want to pursue a relationship with you—If you’re interested.”
“I’m interested,” she said, her words muffled in his shirt.
Relief made him exhale a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
She reluctantly stepped out of his embrace, knowing they were asking for trouble. She’d had a terrible time shaking Ryan when she went down to meet the professor, and it underlined the need for discretion.
“I’m sorry. I guess I over-reacted,” she admitted. When Todd had just turned off his seduction, she began to think she had confused sex with a relationship. She had thought maybe he wanted to be her disciplinarian, and he wanted their spankings to have a happy ending, but that was all.
The tightness in her solar plexus began to ease for the first time in days. “So can we have a date? I mean, I know we really shouldn’t go out in public, but…”
“How about dinner tonight?” he asked immediately.
She beamed. “Yes!”
“I don’t even know where you live,” he said, looking chagrined.
She smiled. “Downtown.”
“Alone?” he asked as he pulled out his phone.
“One roommate.”
“Give me your address,” he said, his thumb poised over the keypad of his phone.
She gave him the details and he entered them.
“I’ll pick you up at five-thirty,” he said squeezing her hand.
She decided to go straight home, exhausted from the emotional tension she’d been harboring.
Her roommate Cathy, a postdoc in the Evolutionary Ecology department, was sitting on the couch with her laptop. “You’re home early.”
She had not planned on telling Cathy about Todd. Even though they weren’t in the same department, word travels. But he would be picking her up at the house that night, so it would hardly be a secret. And besides, she was dying to talk to someone about her new relationship.
“I have a date with my professor,” she blurted.
Cathy covered her mouth with an exaggerated “ooh” face. “Which one?”
“The hot one. Dr. Daniels. But you can’t tell anyone, okay?”
Cathy made the “zip-lip” gesture with a locking twist motion on her lips. “Is it your first date?”
“Not exactly. Sort of. I don’t know,” She laughed. “We, uh, hooked up last week but then I thought he blew me off, but now we have an official dinner date.” She grinned happily.
“Very exciting,” Cathy drawled. “What are you going to wear?”
“I don’t know. Something sexy,” she said with a giggle. It was an odd conversation for the two of them. They usually discussed what they’d heard on National Public Radio, or politics in their respective departments. They were both busy with work and serious about their studies. Neither of them had dated much in the months they’d shared a house.
Cathy followed her into her room and they proceeded to pull out wardrobe options and drape them across the bed.
“He likes short skirts,” she said.
“I’ll bet he does,” Cathy said. “With your legs, who wouldn’t? I think that skirt with this top,” she said, holding the garments up. “And you know what you need?”
“What?”
“A pair of strappy heels. Hang on one second.” She returned with a pair of blue wedge heel sandals. They were taller heels than she usually wore, but Cathy was right, they completed the outfit.
“Very nice,” Cathy said. “So this isn’t the guy who had you crying over your thesis proposal is it? The sexist ass?”
“No. That’s Snelling. Daniels is the one who refused to rescue me from the sexist ass. But I’ve forgiven him because he coached me on the proposal rewrite.”
“So you think you can keep your relationship a secret?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. I hope so. I don’t want him to get in trouble.”
“Professors date students.” Cathy shrugged. “They’re not supposed to, but it happens all the time. You’re a consenting adult—it’s not that big of a deal.”
She nodded. “I know, but Snelling is an ass. I wouldn’t want any trouble.”
“Well, I won’t tell a soul. Not that I have anyone to tell anyway.”
She smiled. “Thanks. I’m glad I could at least tell someone about it.”
“No problem,” Cathy said and left her room.
Lucy took a power nap, then showered and dressed, even taking the time to paint her toenails turquoise blue to match the sandals.
Todd knocked on the front door, right on time.
She answered, giddy and nervous, like a teenager on her first date.
“You look...delectable,” he said, giving her the up and down sweep of his eyes.
“Come in,” she said, knowing Cathy hovered in the kitchen, curious to meet him.
He looked around at their place in an appraising eye. It was an old house, like his, but in the barrio, which meant it had been constructed of poorer materials. Their landlord had exposed one of the mud adobe walls, showcasing the hand-made bricks with pieces of straw and sand binding the clay earth.
“Wow, this is beautiful. What year is this house?”
“1929. The barrio houses were built by and for the railroad workers. And the brick Victorian-style houses in the next neighborhood over were for the foremen.”
“It has character,” he said, scanning the brick floors appreciatively. “Hello,” he said, noticing Cathy standing in the living room doorway and holding out his hand. “I’m Todd.”
“This is Cathy, my roommate. She’s a postdoc in the Evolutionary Ecology department.
“Nice to meet you,” Cathy said.
“Well, are you ready for dinner?” he asked, turning to her.
“Yes. Where are we going?”
“Mexico. Do you have your I.D.?”
Wanting to take her somewhere formal, but where they would not run into anyone they knew, he decided to drive across the Mexican border to La Roca, an upscale restaurant in Nogales, Sonora.
“So what was the deal with Laura?” she asked when they arrived.
He expected the question and wanted to lay any insecurities she had to rest. “Today, you mean? I think she just honestly needed a hand.”
“No, I mean when you dated. What was the scoop?”
“She was too vanilla.”
Lucy looked confused and he remembered she didn’t know all the lingo.
“Not kinky.”
“Not at all?”
He shrugged. “I tied her up a few times and she let me smack her ass during sex, but no, she wasn’t into it. And I don’t think you can really convert people, or at least not a bottom. Tops can be encouraged into dominance, I think. Ultimately, Laura might have let me play, but it wouldn’t ever be her kink.”
“And so you broke up with her?”
“Does that sound mean? It was out of respect to her. She wanted to get married and have children and I knew a few ass slaps weren’t going to cut it for me. If I ever marry, I want a domestic discipline marriage. But I think it’s somewhat unethical to push a non-spanko into such a thing.”
“What if she did it to please you?”
He shook his head. “Yeah, I just don’t think it’s right. I am willing to punish a woman who doesn’t want to be spanked at the time, but not to force it on someone who isn’t ultimately turned on by spanking.”
“Does she know why you broke up with her? I mean, did you ever tell her about the parties or anything?”
“No. I never felt like I could be my real s
elf with her.”
“How about with me?” she asked, licking salt from the rim of her margarita.
The gesture reminded him of her tongue on his cock, which responded to his thoughts with a jerk. He considered her question, wanting to get the words right. “More myself than I’ve ever been.”
She didn’t believe him. “Uh huh,” she said.
He picked up her hand. “I mean it. My two lives have never intertwined before. The spanking side always stayed a secret, safely compartmentalized. The women I’ve dated who were kinky weren’t the type I could hold a decent conversation with, or who understood my regular life. Until you came along, I figured it was impossible to find someone who fit both criteria.”
She looked pleased, but took a sip of her margarita to hide it. “So what exactly is a domestic discipline marriage?”
“Well, it’s not much different from what we have now. You have given me authority over you—to make decisions and rules that I think are in your best interest or the best interest of our relationship. When you deviate from those rules, you get punished.” He allowed his lips to curl at the word punish and watched the color appear on her cheeks. “Could you let your husband be the boss of you, Lucy?”
Her eyes dilated, lips parting. Her nipples peaked under the drape of her blouse. “P-permanently?” she asked.
He laughed. “Consent can always be revoked.”
He imagined Lucy as his wife, walking around the house in one of his t-shirts, a baby on her hip as they discussed their latest research project. A pang of longing struck him. He never knew how much he wanted a woman like Lucy to be his wife. He had told himself he was too busy to marry and settle down, but he suddenly understood what he had been missing.
“Have you ever been in a domestic discipline relationship with anyone else?”
He considered. “Not really. You see? I meant it when I said you were special.”
“So special you didn’t want to see me for six days.”
He sat back with a wry grin. “Are you still mad at me?”
“A little. No, not really.”
“It’s quite possible I suck at relationships, considering how few I’ve had. But I am trainable,” he said.
She giggled. “How do I train my boss?”
He covered her hand on the table and traced each finger, pinning it down. “I’m making a new rule for you. The next time I piss you off, you tell me about it instead of trying to bail on the relationship, okay?” She tried to pull her hand away, but he applied pressure to keep it where it was.
“Well, I didn’t even know if we had a relationship,” she protested.
“True. But now you do. And now you understand my expectation.”
She lifted her eyes and nodded, swallowing. “Yeah, okay.”
He shook his head. “This is a yes, sir moment.”
She grinned. “Yes, sir.”
He released her hand and sat back. “Thank you.”
As they ate their dinner, the thoughts of marriage kept dancing around his head.
Could a relationship like theirs work long-term?
As appealing as it was, doubts began to creep in. Lucy may find his status and authority thrilling now, but one day she’d have her doctorate and be a scientist in her own right. Would his appeal wear off? What happened when he fell off the pedestal and she realized he was an ordinary man, like everyone else? And what about the age difference? Again, it might be sexy now, but in twenty years he’d be getting arthritis while she’d be in her prime.
Slow down, Todd.
They weren’t getting married tonight.
Chapter Seven
Lucy woke with a fluttery belly. She had a meeting with her advisory committee on the re-write of her thesis proposal. She had set it up that way, rather than discussing it privately with Snelling again. Now she couldn’t decide if it was worse—she didn’t want to screw up in front of Todd. As much as he had helped her organize her thoughts and motivate her to get the rewrite done, she still felt nervous about her performance with him. She wanted his approval, more than she cared about Snelling’s opinion now.
She arrived late to the lab and was relieved to see that Ding had already taken care of counting the cell cultures. She set her things down by her station.
“Lucy, I want to talk to you about your committee meeting,” Todd said from the doorway to his office. “Come in and shut the door.”
She glanced at Ryan and Ding before she entered.
“Sit down,” he said, waving a hand at the chair. He was in formal professor mode, which did nothing to ease her anxiety. A great big hug and a kiss on her forehead would be a lot more helpful.
He fixed her with a stern gaze. “I think it’s quite possible Snelling is kinky.”
“What?” she giggled, taken aback by the topic.
He continued to look sober. “Yes. Dacryphilia is when a person is aroused by tears. I’m pretty sure Snelling has it.”
She giggled again, not sure whether he was serious or not.
“Well, if he does, do you want to give him a hard-on?”
She smiled, understanding where Todd was going. “No, sir.”
“No. And I want you to know that I, as your disciplinarian and aspiring boyfriend—”
She giggled again.
“—would take great offense if you chose to get Snelling off today. In fact, I would spank you until you couldn’t sit down.”
She inhaled, an automatic physiological reaction to his words sending a wave of simultaneous hot and cold through her body.
Todd leaned forward on his forearms. “Listen to me. Snelling doesn’t think women belong in the lab, except to copy his papers for him. Getting you to show emotion is a favorite ploy of his to make women seem weak or ill-suited to the profession. Do not let him rile you up. Inhale and exhale before you answer any of his questions. Picture him with his cock in his hand and imagine it flaccid, because you are not going to give him the fuel he needs to jerk off.”
She shook with laughter, her nerves unwinding with the release.
“And now, to make sure you understand how serious I am about this, I need you to bend over the desk.”
She stopped laughing. “What?”
“You heard me.”
She looked at her watch. “We don’t really have time…”
“I am perfectly aware of the time, Miss Larson. If you continue to defy me, I will be forced to add punishment to your procedure.”
Procedure?
She stood up from the chair and moved it out of the way, leaning tentatively over the desk.
“Lower your pants, Miss Larson.”
She unbuttoned her pants and allowed them to drop to the floor. She’d worn pants that day, since she didn’t want to remind Snelling of her femininity. “I, uh, didn’t lock the door,” she said in a cracking voice.
“I just did,” came the professor’s silky reply.
He slid his fingers in the waistband of her panties, caressing her with a light brush before he peeled them down.
She tightened her buttocks at the cool air on her bare cheeks. Even though he said he’d locked the door, her thoughts went to Ryan and Ding. If Todd spanked her, they would surely hear it.
He ran a hand lightly over her trembling cheeks. He removed his touch and she heard the rustle of some unidentifiable action. She jerked in surprise when he rubbed something cold and wet into her crack, spreading her cheeks and circling her anus.
She tightened her glutes but he immediately commanded her to open. “Don’t make me spank you, Lucy, the boys will hear everything.”
She gasped and concentrated, relaxing her muscles with effort. He pressed something rounded at her back entrance. “Ow,” she protested.
“Push back at me. Like you’re bearing down.”
“I haven’t...I’ve never—” she didn’t know how to tell him she’d never had anal sex before.
“I know, sweetheart. I’m inserting a butt plug. You’ll be wearing it to the meeti
ng to remind you of my orders.”
What? She wanted to protest, but his words had turned her on and the moment she’d relaxed, he pushed the plug inside her.
She gasped and stood straight up, clenching her bottom.
He chuckled and pulled her panties up. “It’s small because you’re an anal virgin, but I think it will stay in with your panties holding it in place.”
The vision of her plug falling out at her feet during her thesis committee meeting tormented her.
“Todd, I can’t—” she pleaded.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, but—”
He shook his head. “No buts. I’ve decided you need to wear this plug to the meeting to remind you how to behave. Can you accept my authority?”
She trembled, as excited by the invasion as she was humiliated. How could she possibly say no? She craved his authority. “Yes, sir.”
He patted her bum, jostling the plug and making her groan. “Good girl. Pull up your pants, we are all through until after the meeting.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, stooping to obey.
He looked at his watch. “Time for one kiss.” He wrapped his arms around her and drew her in, his fingers seeking the plug in her ass. He pushed and twisted it through her clothes as he kissed her, turning her knees to jelly.
“Oh, God,” she gasped.
“Let’s go,” he said, pulling away and grinning.
She couldn’t decide if she wanted to kill him or kiss him again.
He turned back at the door, dropping all the devilish behavior. “Lucy, you’ve got this,” he told her.
She took a deep breath. “Thanks.”
Lucy walked stiffly to the meeting, her face in a frozen look of surprise.
He hoped he had not gone too far. His intention had not been to humiliate her or increase her discomfort. He had just hoped to distract her enough from her usual emotional reaction to Snelling.
He felt guilty, suddenly, for not helping her more. Of course she hadn’t been his girlfriend when she had asked him to step in as her advisor, a position he still could not take, but perhaps he could have done something else.