by K. Webster
I toss the bag on the desk and leave before I have the urge to take her again. The rest of my appointments are back to back until after it gets dark and we close. When I finally make it back to my office, I’m shocked. She’s completely organized every shelf and surface. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she isn’t wearing the blazer, just like I asked her not to.
“Dax, shit, I mean Slate!” she says in such an excited tone that my heart thumps.
“How are things coming?” I inquire.
“Great, I just finished inputting everything into the QuickBooks. There seems to be some money missing compared to the bank account and your register. Could someone be stealing it?” she asks with concern.
“Well, I did just fire this chick Marley. I wouldn’t put it past her skanky ass,” I growl. My eyes zero in on her tits when she stands and stretches. Her body is lean yet curvaceous. I want to taste her—again.
“Okay, I guess I’ll get going,” she says sadly as she puts on her blazer.
My mind is having an internal struggle. On one hand, I hate her and hope that she gets what she has coming. On the other hand, I don’t want anything to happen to her.
“So you have to be out of your place tonight?” I inquire, even though I already know the answer. She nods looking majorly defeated.
“Need a ride home,” I ask. Again she nods, but this time with tears in her eyes.
She lives close, because not fifteen minutes later we’re pulling into a very small apartment complex.
“Do you need help getting your stuff out?” I ask.
“It’s not much and it’s already packed,” she says hopefully. It makes me a sucker but I get out and follow her. She leads me over to her door and lets us in. I go to flip on the light, but realize the electricity has been shut off. It lights a fire inside of me and I am angry. Angry at her for getting herself in this situation and angry at them for turning it off.
A light suddenly floods the room and I realize she has a flashlight.
“There,” she points to a total of four small boxes.
“Where’s the rest of your stuff?” I demand, looking around.
“He only let me keep my clothes. That’s all I wanted anyway,” she tells me.
“Your ex-husband?” I question angrily. She nods and easily lifts two of the boxes. Huffing out in frustration, I grab the other two and follow her to my car. Once we’re seated inside, I turn to look at her.
“What now, Jolie?”
Shrugging her shoulders, she points toward town. “I guess you can take me to Erica’s,” she sighs, sounding defeated.
“You don’t want to go to her place?” I ask.
“I’m embarrassed,” she admits sadly, looking out the window.
“What about your parents?”
“They don’t know I’ve lost my job and now my place. I just can’t tell them.”
Before I can stop them, words slip from my mouth. “What if we came to an agreement?”
She turns and looks at me quizzically. “What sort of agreement?” I can tell she’s interested, simply for the pure fact she won’t have to admit defeat to anyone but me.
I mull it around in my head a few minutes before I answer her. “Jolie, I hate you.” It isn’t stated angrily, just stated.
“I hate me, too,” she murmurs.
“I’ve dreamt many nights about your life turning out fucking horrible just like mine did. I totally believe in karma. Clearly, I would love nothing more than to see you punished for what you did to me. And you need a place to stay. Do you think we can work something out?” I ask. I’m completely serious. She nods, so I continue.
“My place has two rooms. You can have the guest room but there will be conditions. First and foremost, we’ll fuck whenever and however I want. You’ll give yourself to me mind, body, and soul. Secondly, you’ll continue to work for me but you won’t get paid. I’ll pay you with room and board. If you need clothes or food, I’ll buy them. You’ll be my fuck toy. And finally, sweet girl, I’m going to spank your perfect little ass. A naughty girl like you who lies and sends her best friend to prison needs to pay for the sins of her past, don’t you agree?”
She turns to me and nods in both horror and relief. I’m more concerned with the relief.
“Dax, I love you. I always have and I’m so sorry,” she tells me tearfully.
“Jolie, sweet girl, I hate you. I always will and sorry just isn’t good enough,” I clip out coolly. “And one other thing, don’t fucking call me Dax.”
Once we arrive at my condo and make our way inside, Jolie looks around in awe.
“Did you paint all of these? Of course you did,” she exclaims in awe. The way she tosses her boxes to the floor and flutters around to each painting reminds me of when she was in high school—sweet and innocent—before the incident.
“Come on, I’ll show you to the guest room,” I say grumpily and head down the hallway. Once we walk inside and I turn on a lamp, she kicks off her heels and falls face first onto the bed. Her skirt has ridden up and the swell of her ass is poking out. The things I could do to that ass….
“We need a safe word,” I growl. She rolls over to her side and looks up at me.
“You can do whatever you want,” she informs me.
“No! We have to have a safe word. Now that we’ve made this deal, I have to have a way to control myself. What will it be?” I demand.
Sitting up, she unbuttons her blazer and shrugs out of it, tossing it to the floor. “Let’s call it what it is, vengeance.”
Chuckling darkly, I stoop and pick up her blazer and hang it in the closet. She watches me carefully the entire time.
“Sweet girl, I’ve waited a long time for this opportunity. It starts now. Your punishment starts now,” I inform her evenly.
Panic briefly flashes across her features before she nods. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Chapter 6
Jolie
“Now take off your clothes and wait here naked. I’m going to get my room ready,” he growls and storms out of the room.
I’m terrified, but at the same time oddly turned on. If my punishment was to spend all of my time with Dax, I would take it willingly. Not even twenty minutes later, he steps into the doorway.
“Stand up,” he orders and I scramble to my feet. He stalks over to me and I flinch. In a surprising mood, he scoops me up in an intimate move and carries me into his bedroom. Setting me down in front of the bed. His bed is huge and sits high off the ground, perfect for someone tall like him, but difficult for someone as short as me.
“Give me your hands,” he instructs me and I watch in fascination as he binds my wrists together with a thin rope. “Now bend over the bed so I can see your beautiful ass.”
I do as I’m told and stretch my bound hands out in front of me across the bed. He stalks around to the other side and threads more rope between my arms and fastens it on the rail. When I go to pull my hands to me, I realize they aren’t allowing for much movement at all. Panic suddenly seizes me, but when he comes back around to where I’m at and softly strokes my ass, I relax.
“Have you ever mixed pleasure with pain?” I feel his erection pressing against my bottom as he gently gathers my hair into his hand pulls it slowly back. My pussy throbs for him as I wait for his next move.
“He wasn’t into it,” I manage to breathe out.
“Are you into it?” he growls out his question.
“I’ve always wanted to be punished—by you.”
“Oh, sweet girl, then we’re going to have such fun because punishing you is all I have ever fucking thought about for fifteen long years.”
He moves aside, still clutching my hair, and I’m mourning the loss until I feel the sting of a slap on my ass cheek. His hand rubs the stinging area and slides down my backside to find my pussy. I moan as he strokes my clit and then slips two fingers into me. Just as I’m getting into it, he withdraws them and I’m stung from another slap.
“Oh!” I groan. When I tr
y to bury my face into the blanket that smells like him, he pulls my head back by my hair.
“Too much, baby girl?” he asks and I can sense a little unease in his voice.
“No, not enough,” I assert, because truly it isn’t.
This time he swats me again and it tingles much more than before.
“Harder, Dax,” I provoke.
“It’s Slate.” Smack!
“I missed you so much, Dax.”
“Slate!” Smack! Smack!
“I’m so sorry, Dax.”
“Fucking Slate!” Smack! Smack! Smack!
I’m sobbing now and he rubs my bottom. Why can’t I rewind back to that night? If only I’d just waited for him our life would be perfect now.
“Say the safe word, Jolie,” he snaps.
“No!”
Smack!
“Say it, sweet girl. Please,” he begs and I can hear his voice full of emotion, but I refuse to give in. I need him to hurt me.
“I love you, Dax,” I choke out.
“Fuck you!” he snaps and tears himself away from me, storming from the room. I flinch when the door slams behind him. Toeing the edge of the bed, I hoist myself up farther so I’m not hanging off and fall asleep.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sleeping but the room is dark and I can feel him freeing my hands from the rope. He lifts me in his arms and I am enveloped by his wonderful soapy scent, fresh from a shower. My eyes are swollen from crying and I just feel exhausted from it all. When he makes it into what’s going to be my room and starts to put me down, I latch my arms around his neck.
“Don’t,” he says softly, and I reluctantly let go so he can tuck me in. I’m already sobbing by the time I hear him shut the door.
“You better grab a shower soon or we’ll be late,” he says waking me up. I sit up and squint at him.
“Where is it?” I ask and slip out from under the covers. His eyes fall down my body, appreciating my curves along the way. It makes me hot for him, especially as he stands there in nothing but a hanging pair of pajama pants. My eyes try to look at each tattoo but there’s just so many to look at in one pass through.
“How’s your ass?” he smirks, reminding me of the Dax from long ago. And in a rare moment of the old Jolie, I playfully punch his belly. As I try to escape into the hallway, he hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me to him.
“Don’t make me tickle you like old times. I know you hate that shit,” he threatens jokingly into my ear. His erection presses into me through his pajama bottoms against my back. I still when his free hand cups my breast and gently pinches my nipple. Twisting around in his arms, I snake my own around his neck. His hands fall to my sore bottom and pull me to him, pressing my breasts against his bare chest.
He looks almost sad as he studies my face. I run my fingers through his hair, which feels weird since it was always kept short when he was younger. In this moment, there isn’t hate or horrible pasts, it’s just us. He brings his face close to mine and is about to kiss me when my cell phone starts ringing like crazy from the living room. I’m surprised they haven’t shut that off too. Unfortunately, the spell is broken and he pulls away from me to go start the shower.
Locating my phone, I answer it breathlessly failing to check caller ID first. “Hello?”
“Jolie, where are you?” Tucker demands on the other line. Since I’m standing naked in the living room, I head back to my room.
“None of your business, Tucker,” I spit out at him. Dax already put my boxes in my room, so I rummage through them until I find an outfit for today, a jean skirt and T-shirt.
“It is my business because you ignore calls from your dad and he pesters me! I went by your apartment and saw the eviction notice posted on the door. If you aren’t with Erica, because I already called her this morning, and you aren’t with your parents, then were the FUCK are you, Jolie?” he demands and I’m reminded of just why we divorced in the first place.
“I’m staying with an old friend and I’m not your problem anymore, remember?” I snap.
He’s quiet for a moment on the other line and I know he’s squeezing the hell out of his stress ball that he keeps on his desk. I can almost imagine his jaws clenching and unclenching.
“What friend?” he asks this time, instead of demanding.
“His name is Slate. I also got a job helping him with his books,” I tell him. I’m actually pretty proud to tell him I found a job. He grunts in response, but I know it is in approval. I was married to him for eight years so I’ll always know all of his signs and mannerisms.
“I miss you, Jo,” he says wistfully. I wince because we’d probably still be together had it not been for his cheating on me, which I forgave him for and then the subsequent miscarriage that I never fully mentally recovered from.
“Goodbye, Tuck,” I sigh and hang up.
The shower is still going when I walk into the steamy bathroom. This entire situation with Dax is incredibly fucked up. But in actuality, I am happy he’s in my life again—no matter the form. Pulling the curtain aside, I admire his body. He’s tall, muscular, and nearly every surface of his flesh is covered in some piece of art—he’s beautiful.
“Got room for me?” I ask tentatively. He turns to me with water running down his face, looking hot as hell, and my pussy throbs for him.
“Get in,” he commands and steps aside.
Once I’ve made my way in, he guides me under the spray of the water and begins soaping my body. I know he’s just cleaning me but my body is on edge as he slides softly over my curves. He’s pulled me against him so that my back is flush against his chest and his erection presses into my back. With his lips to my earlobe, I whine in need when his teeth find it and nibble.
“You’re going to need to get on the pill. I’m tired of fucking condoms, Jolie,” he growls hot breath into my ear, sending a message straight to my core.
“Dax—er—Slate, I’m on the pill,” I tell him. His hand slides between my legs and begins stroking my clit. The water and soap remnants are making things slippery and I’m already bucking against his hand as I feel an orgasm coming.
“You like this, baby girl?” he asks as his finger picks up speed. I’m moaning and panting as I get closer to the edge.
“Yes,” I breathe out raggedly. So close. I can feel myself about to come when he abruptly stops and withdraws his hand. My body is shaking from the sudden loss and being denied the orgasm that I was on the brink of having.
“Why’d you stop,” I demand. When I try to turn around to look at him, his arms grip me in an embrace and hold me in place.
“This isn’t a game, Jolie. You’re here because you fucking owe me for ruining my life. I went to prison for you—because you told them I raped you. My brain can’t even comprehend how you could do that to me. So, it is time for you to be punished. And right now, I feel like denying you an orgasm. I hope you feel fucking frustrated as hell,” he snaps.
When I flinch, his body relaxes and his hand caresses my breast. His mouth finds my neck and sucks gently. Since he won’t help me, I slide a hand to my still throbbing clit. I’ve just touched myself when his strong hand grips my wrist and pulls it away, causing me to yelp in surprise.
“I said no. Don’t fucking try it again. You made the deal, now stick with it or you’ll be back out on the street,” he barks. Tears fill my eyes as I wonder how I managed to get to this place—begging for the touch of a man that hates me.
“How long will this go on?” I shakily question. My mind won’t be able to handle it very long. In fact, I’m really wishing I had one of my pills in this exact moment.
“It will end once I feel I’ve had my sweet vengeance, baby girl.” A shudder passes through me as he leaves me alone in the shower with my tears and frustration.
Chapter 7
Slate
I’m an asshole. Well, fuck her. This morning in the shower was absolute torture, but she is going to learn that this isn’t some happy fucking reunion. She’s
delusional and lives in a fantasy world that things will magically go back to the way they were in high school. We didn’t speak at all the entire time we got ready for work. It took everything in me not to slam her against the wall and fuck her like a madman when she came out of her room wearing a short jean skirt and tight pink T-shirt. She’d piled up her long hair on top of her head in a messy bun and had hardly any makeup on, but I fucking wanted her. Bad.
Without words, I shoved up her skirt and slid down her panties, tossing them aside. I know she thought I was going to fuck her, but instead I pulled her skirt back into place and headed for the car. Now that we are in the car driving to the shop, I feel like I am the one being punished as I keep sneaking glances at her upper thighs that are more visible now that she is seated in the car. The skirt has ridden up some and it is distracting as hell.
“I’ve got a client first thing this morning so go on in my office and do whatever it is you do,” I order as I walk into the shop. She nods, still not speaking to me.
The first person I see is Joel and he looks ready to give me shit until he sees Jolie trailing behind me. His stupid grin falls and he glares at me.
“We need to talk, Slate,” he grumbles as he finishes putting a change order into the register.
“Later, Joel,” I snap. Jolie makes a beeline for the office and closes the door behind her, while I head into the room where my client is already waiting.
ABOUT THIS STORY:
If you have not read This is War, Baby AND This is Love, Baby, then please skip this story. This is an excerpt from the villain’s book coming summer of 2016 called This Isn’t Over, Baby.
Gabriel Sharpe wasn’t always a psychotic madman. In the beginning, he was a normal kid with screwed up parents. A victim of bullying by adults who should have looked after him, including his abusive father, Gabe learns to find his inner strength and squash all signs of weakness in this excerpt. He learns what it means to be a man and ends his father’s games once and for all.