The Assignment

by Jade A. Waters

  “Looks fabulous, babe,” I said. Selby bounced from the oven to the sink, checking the lasagna and rinsing dishes while she worked. I finished laying silverware across the four place settings and joined her against the counter. “What time is Dean getting here?”

  Selby gave me a cockeyed grin. She wore her apron, and she’d done her hair up in the stylized bun I referred to as her teacher-do. She may have been the tamest of my friends, but she sure as hell was observant. “Any minute. Missing him?”

  “Shut up,” I teased. I grabbed four wine glasses and spread them on the table, and took regular glasses to fill at the water dispenser. Dozens of photos covered their fridge—Selby and me, Selby and Alex, family members, kids, so many kids—and I marveled over them like I usually did.

  Selby’s wants were so normal. Why weren’t mine?

  “Hey, man!”

  I stepped back to spy the front entrance. Alex had jumped up from the couch to greet Dean, who stood at the door with a six-pack in his hand, peering in my direction.

  Casual, he was a sight. He wore a simple T-shirt and jeans, the fabric of his shirt doing a terrible job of hiding the muscles he had beneath. It left his arms exposed, plenty of biceps showing to remind me of him tying me to the bedframe as his cock hovered above my face.

  Oh, fuck.

  Selby popped her hip against my ass. “In all our lives, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush like this.”

  “Hey, Maya.” Dean and Alex came into the kitchen, and Dean walked right up to me. He pulled me into his arms, giving me a seemingly innocuous hug while one hand slid down my lower back. He applied the sexiest hint of pressure and kissed me, hard.

  When Dean backed away, our friends gawked. I tended not to bring men over to their house since Selby was usually thrown by my behavior—but she’d invited Dean, not me.

  Still, the display was probably a little much in front of the two of them.

  “Smells wonderful, Selby,” Dean said. It was a shoddy attempt to stop the gape of Selby’s mouth.

  The kitchen remained hushed for several seconds. I scratched my head.

  Finally, Alex folded his arms over his chest. “Um, well then...is dinner ready?”

  Selby pursed her lips. Questions flashed through her eyes, ones I wasn’t sure I had the answers to, but she shooed us all into the dining room. “Coming right up. Go sit.”

  Alex led the way and I followed, Dean a step behind me. Even here, in front of our friends, I sensed his energy on me, pushing me, as if secretly telling me we could play nice here, but he had plans for me. I sat with a dry swallow, uncomfortably aroused in my best friend’s dining room. I didn’t want Selby aware of any of it—not with the way she’d reacted to the kiss alone. I didn’t need her worrying.

  Thankfully, dinner continued in a mellow fashion from there; all of us talked about work and the great spread Selby had prepared. It was relaxed and perfect, what Alex needed and Selby loved to organize.

  After, when I’d almost finished my second glass of wine, we all sat back in our chairs, listening to Selby’s proud story of the third grader who triumphed in the end-of-the-year spelling bee.

  That was when Dean slipped his hand under the table and onto my thigh.

  The first time he’d done this, I’d fallen under his spell. The weight of his hand had promised a journey I couldn’t refuse, and I’d been seduced to find out more.

  Now though—knowing the path we were on, and the power those hands had over me—I quivered. I tongued the lip of my glass, trying to hear Selby’s words as Dean’s fingers curled around my thigh and squeezed. I resisted the urge to jump lest Selby scowl at me, but Dean kept caressing, then shifting his hand higher, reaching his fingertips between my thighs.

  “Not here,” I whispered.

  Dean raised an eyebrow and slipped his hand closer to my crotch.

  Selby squealed. “It was adorable, you guys. I’m telling you. He was so proud, and his mom was, like, beaming and teary. I was way impressed! He was the least likely, and yet I hoped for him...”

  Dean nudged two fingers over the seam of my jeans, rubbing briskly to catch my attention.

  “I love you, Selbs,” Alex said. He took her hand into his and kissed it, their adoration warming my heart while I tried to ignore Dean’s movements.

  He pinched my thigh, and I frowned at him. The flush in my cheeks had nothing to do with my wine. The game was fun—but not in front of our friends.

  I mouthed, Stop it.

  No, he mouthed back. He rotated his hand, using all of his fingers to latch onto my crotch when Selby and Alex leaned to kiss one another. They were too engrossed to notice me shaking my head.

  “Not here. Not in front of them.”

  Dean didn’t listen. Instead he smirked and moved his hand to the top of my jeans, sliding his fingers past the waistband before attempting to sink them lower.

  I smacked his hand away, and the movement caught Selby’s eye. Her gaze was disapproving, but she didn’t say anything while Alex rubbed the back of her neck, still affectionate and proud of her. Dean settled his hand on my thigh, pretending he hadn’t done anything, but between the depth of his stare and Selby’s concerned face, I clenched my fingers in frustration. I didn’t want them to see this. I hardly understood what I was doing with Dean, and I didn’t need our friends making assumptions and judging me for it.

  Annoyed, I scooted back my chair and stood. Dean’s hand dropped off me, and Selby tilted her head as she looked between us. “Oh, I’m proud of you, Selby,” I said. “And I’m glad you went for teaching. Here’s to you, girlie.” I raised my wine. The four of us clanked our glasses and I took my last sip, casting Dean a glare.

  He returned the look with a smile.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. Selby didn’t notice, once again pleased with her student and distracted by Alex’s touch on her shoulder.

  I put down my glass and threw another look at Dean before heading to the bathroom. I didn’t know why, but he’d frustrated me. His touch was phenomenal, I just didn’t want it here in front of my best friend, who’d flip out about the display. Not when she couldn’t handle the details of my relationship with Dean—that we were no more than two people fucking around, and he was into taking all the control.

  I was buzzed from my wine. Irritation pumped through me as I shut the bathroom door and did my business, and when I washed my hands, I peeked into the mirror. What type of woman was I, wanting this crazy fucking head-trip from Dean after all I’d been through in the past? Couldn’t I want something normal, like Selby and Alex did? Vanilla sex? Sex with feelings and loving emotions that didn’t involve ordering me around or tying me up and making me come despite myself?

  I took a deep breath. Wine always hit me too fast. I had no reason to be this upset, and yet there it was, irritation at his persistence. What a goddamn control freak.

  Get a grip, Maya.

  When I swung open the door, Dean stood waiting for me. “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  He stepped in. The powerful width of his body blocked me from exiting the bathroom, and I drew my hands to my hips.

  “Our friends are waiting. What’s up?”

  He heard the edge in my voice and he didn’t care. He grabbed my wrists and linked them behind me, moving me backward with the force of his body until he could close the door.

  “Come on. Not here.”

  But his mouth was on me, aggressive and hot. His tongue split my lips apart, demanding my surrender until I sucked air in through my nose. I fought his hold, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue weaving with mine and urging my mouth wide. Once again, my body betrayed every logical thought in my head and I pitched my hips toward him.

  Jesus, he was rock hard. His cock was like a beacon, calling me out from this façade of irrit
ation, and I wanted it.

  I wanted him.

  “Maya,” he said, my name a pop of sound when he tore away from my kiss—the kiss I’d shoved back on him, trying to use as much force as he did with me to show him I was in control, too. He backed me onto the counter until my ass rested on the marble and pushed his pelvis into me. “You’re damn hot when you’re pissed. Feisty. I love that about you.”

  “You’re an ass,” I said. He plundered my mouth again, and I melted against him.

  He slid his fingers up my spine, into my hair. He weaved them through the strands and yanked my head back to expose my neck. I tried to pull away but couldn’t, the breath caught in my throat as he sucked at my neck and bit my skin.

  “You’re all fired up, even though you like this.” He ran his lips over my mouth, the stubble of his chin chafing my skin. When he rolled his hips, I gasped. “As far as I know, we haven’t done anything you haven’t wanted to do.” Those beautiful eyes burst with color while he waited for me, begging me to confess. To accept what he already had about me.

  “I want the sweet side of you, too,” I said.

  Dean’s tongue snuck past my lips this time. Then he bit my bottom lip and gave a small tug. “You’ll get that. You’ve got it, but that’s not what you’re after.”

  “Yes, I am.” I needed to be. The fact that he’d tried to play the control card in front of our friends irked me, but Dean layered my cheeks in soft pecks. I clenched my eyes shut. His grip on my hair kept my head back so I couldn’t escape, and I whimpered, pining for him in me, wanting him to fuck everything, every resistance, every worry, right out of me.

  “You don’t care who sees. You want release.” Dean clutched my side. “Freedom.” He lifted his hand to my face, pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger and giving me a tender kiss. “I have the perfect next assignment for you.”

  My body issued a silent scream of protest, yet my pussy grew wet. So fucking wet. I shook. “Not right now—”

  “What are you two doing in our bathroom?” Selby’s voice came from right outside the door. My eyes widened, and Dean fell back, the bulge at his groin enormous. I snaked my fingers into my hair in a sorry attempt to tame the strands he’d pulled out of place when he’d cornered me into things I didn’t want.

  But I do.

  “Hello?”

  I straightened my clothes and threw open the door. “Settle down, Selby,” I said. She pursed her lips at the sight of my burning cheeks, and I wondered for the millionth time how we were this different.

  “At least take it in the guest room. Like, when I’m not home,” she said.

  Dean came out from behind the door. The unruffled state of his hair and the smooth crotch of his jeans pissed me off.

  He’d calmed down, but I hadn’t.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie.” I put my hands on her shoulders and steered her around to face the kitchen. I massaged her shoulders as we walked, leading her back to the dining room table. “Nothing is going on.”

  I said it with a glance back at Dean, and he beckoned me with the look on his face and the sheer masculinity of his body, without having to say a thing.

  Was I so wrong for wanting this?

  * * *

  Dinner wrapped up rapidly after that. Selby and I did the dishes while the boys hung out in front of the television. Until she kicked him out of the kitchen, Dean had helped, observing me with a curious expression like he was trying to figure out what went through my skull.

  How could I answer when even I didn’t know?

  I didn’t say much as Selby washed and I dried. When she handed over the last dish, she looked through the entrance to the living room and back at me.

  “Did you have plans later?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. We’re going out for a drink.”

  I didn’t protest. Selby rarely wanted to go out to a bar, and friend time sounded good. Safe. She dried off the counter and lugged me into the living room.

  “We need a drink,” she announced.

  Dean pivoted in his seat on the couch. “Out?”

  Alex slapped his hands on his cheeks. “Babe, way too tired. None for me.”

  “I didn’t mean you, sweetheart,” she said. “Girl time...and only girl time.”

  When she left me in the living room to grab her shoes, Dean cocked his head and eyed me. “We’re not invited, huh?”

  “Nope.” The word came out sharp and I instantly regretted it, but Selby returned before I could do anything. She took her car keys from the dish by the door and threw her purse over her shoulder, and Alex folded his hands behind his head.

  “Have a blast, ladies. Don’t stay out too late.”

  “We won’t. Plus I’m driving, so it’s pretty much Maya drinking. That never ceases to be interesting.”

  “Hey!” I said, but she tugged me out the door. We’d had a few adventures like this in our past—Selby playing driver while I ended up tipsy and flirting with someone in the bar. But I didn’t feel like flirting tonight.

  I was too caught up in whatever the hell I was doing with Dean, and I needed to figure that out without screwing around with someone else.

  We hit a pub on the south end of Oakland we’d frequented over the years with Alex. Selby ordered her one rum and coke while I stuck with wine; two more drinks was about my maximum, or I’d end up stupid and pissing her off.

  Still, I was already tipsy from my wine at dinner. We went to the dartboard in the back, and Selby let me take several horrendously misaimed whacks at it before bursting out in peals of laughter.

  “Wow. This is going to be easy,” she said.

  For the next twenty minutes, we rotated and threw. Between the residual tension from my heated makeout with Dean and the alcohol seeping through me, I lost game after game. Selby tossed her blond hair and razzed me, inviting the attention of a number of men across the bar. The irony was that she was too tame to take notice of them.

  The random wildness was my job.

  “Are you going to open up or what?” Selby plucked her darts out of the board and handed them over. “This mood isn’t all because you’re tipsy. This is something else.”

  I shelved the darts and pointed at a table in the corner of the bar. “I need another glass of wine. Drink?”

  “No. Are you going to tell me?”

  “Maybe.”

  Selby waved me off, and I went to the bar. What could I tell her without freaking her out?

  Dean wants to tie me up. I’m playing the sub. Apparently, I like being totally out of control.

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to fly.

  While the bartender poured me the red wine, I pulled my phone from my bag. Dean had texted twice already.

  Did I do something that upset you? read the content of the first one. The second said, Must see you. Where are you?

  I sighed and typed back. No, you’re fine. I’m...confused. I just need some time with Selby.

  Dean wrote, What about after?

  The bartender handed over my wine and I paid her, then took a sip. Maybe it was the wine, or the fact that he’d pushed the contact in front of our friends, but the tenuous hold on my control suddenly made me nervous.

  I typed, It’s too much, Dean.

  His response came swiftly. Why? I thought you liked it, Maya.

  I frowned. In some ways, I did, but there were too many memories, too many ties, and I stood on the precipice of a dangerous feeling I didn’t know if I could handle.

  Or could I?

  Please, let me talk to you. I WANT you.

  The all caps brought a grumble to my throat, and I shoved the phone back in my bag. When I climbed into the high-backed chair across from Selby, she finished a text and put away her phone.

  She must
have caught my confusion through the look on my face. “Okay, I know I’ve had many not-ideal things to say about Dean, and I’m sure I can come up with a lot more not-ideal things to say about him since I don’t get him or his antics, but I’m trying to be open. You’re my best friend. Talk to me.”

  I swirled my wine in my glass. How could I talk to her? “You don’t want to know.”

  “Honey.” She reached across the table and clasped my forearm. “Give me something here. Has he hurt you?”

  Nothing had hurt me yet, and even if we did go that direction with this thing we were doing, Dean wouldn’t maliciously hurt me. That I knew.

  Jesus, were we going in that direction? After tying me up, was pain next?

  And would I object, or would it turn me on like all the rest?

  I huffed out a breath. “No, he hasn’t. He’s terribly kind. He’s overwhelming me in ways I’m not used to.”

  “Like?”

  I took a sip of my wine, then sucked on the inside of my lip. “We have an unusual dynamic.”

  Selby adjusted herself in her chair. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

  “I’ll stop.”

  “No, please. I’ll try.” She waited, glowing with her imaginary halo over her head. We’d had a similar conversation years ago, when I’d hinted that Charlie had cuffed my wrists—but it had been different. We’d been young, and Selby had been blissfully unaware these things happened in real life, and in turn horrified I’d ever consider such a thing.

  At least she was trying.

  I opened my mouth, attempting to form the appropriate words. “It’s a role-play thing. He...kind of...” I had to just spit it out. “Dominates.”

  Selby closed one eye in an awkward squint. “Seriously?”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “I’m trying to be open-minded. I really am, but you take things to a whole other dimension than I understand.”