The Widows of Sea Trail-Vivienne of Sugar Sands

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Forgiveness Isat propped up against the headboard on my bed and punched in Philip’s number. When he answered I said, “I sold Dale’s truck today.”

  “Somehow it did not occur to me that that would be the first thing you’d say to me after three days of ignoring my calls.”

  He was angry. And well he should have been, I should not have ignored his calls. But I hadn’t been ready to talk to him.

  “And I used Dale’s sink today.”

  “Oh, was there a plumbing issue?”

  “I always thought of it as his, now I just think of it as

  mine. I have two sinks in my bathroom now.”

  “Well, good for you, that’s awesome news.” The sarcasm

  in his tone was wearing.

  “I just thought you’d like to know these things.” “Are you going somewhere with this? Because I’m just

  not getting it.”

  “You left your sweater here last time you were here.” “Well, if you want it out of your house, I suppose you

  could send it back.”

  “I’m wearing it. It’s why I sold the truck.”

  “You are not making any sense.”

  “Your sweater smells like you. Dale’s truck smells like

  him. I want to be around your smell now. Is that plain enough

  for you? Does that make sense?”

  He let out a long, drawn out breath. I could hear his

  whole body relax with it. “Yes, yes, it finally does.” “I think I might be irrevocably falling in love with you.” “That’s more than I’d hoped for and the best news I’ve

  heard in a long, long time. But why irrevocably?” “You know what irrevocably means?”

  “Permanently? Irreversibly?”

  “Yes, it does mean permanently and irreversibly. It also

  means forever, once and for all, for all time, and irretrievably.

  That’s the one that’s closest I think.”

  “Irretrievably?”

  “Yeah, it means you can’t get it back. I can’t get it back.

  Just like I can’t get the truck back and you can’t get your

  sweater back. I’m afraid I can’t get my heart back.” There was a long silence.

  “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

  “Yes, I believe I am.”

  “Don’t go anywhere, I’m on my way.”

  “You’re not taking off this sweater.”

  “Oh yes I am. And everything else, too.”

  There was a click as he disconnected. I smiled and

  snuggled into the collar of his thick double-knit sweater. From

  the beginning the powerful hormonal chemistry produced by

  Philip’s body had drawn me like a magnet, much as Dale’s

  had. It was an invisible pull I’d had to fight against to keep

  from making an ass of myself whenever he was around. The

  most sophisticated methods for matchmaking ever devised

  would never be able to duplicate the bewitching magic of

  natural pheromones. That special scent we unconsciously zero in on that triggers an attractiveness response before we can even commit a name to memory. The desire attached often lasts a lifetime, as it had with Dale. Philip’s unique scent triggered a reaction that hit me on an emotional level as well as on a passionate level. While his lingering scent cascaded over me I dozed off. He would be here in four hours. I was going to take Tessa’s advice and not let this opportunity go to waste. My body was revving up just thinking about the things we were going to be doing, right here, in this very bed.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Trouble in paradise When the phone rang, I was ready for anyone’s voice but my mother’s. “Viv?”

  “Uh huh. Mom?”

  “I need you to send some money. Your uncle managed to get himself arrested. They think he’s the man Crystal ran off with. They’re charging him with kidnapping and statutory rape.”

  “Uncle Lester? Who would run off with Uncle Lester? He’s seventy-six years old and looks like Curly from The Three Stooges.”

  “I know. I know. But apparently it happens; these young girls meet guys all the time who lie about their age and just about everything else. The police think he’s one of those perverts.”

  “What about Crystal? Did you find her?”

  “Yeah, that’s kind of the problem. When Lester found them, the guy bolted, then the police showed up because we had called them and they thought Lester was the guy.”

  “And Crystal won’t say differently?”

  “She’s pretty angry with Lester as he’s the reason her boyfriend bailed, so I think this is her way of getting back at him. She won’t say anything in his defense. At least not yet.”

  “How do you keep getting yourself in these messes?”

  “My lot in life I guess. Hey, I was doing this for you!”

  “I know, I know.” I looked at my alarm clock; it was two in the morning. I had called Philip at 9:30. He should have been here by now. “Tell me exactly where you are and what I need to do.”

  I wrote down the information and told her I’d deposit cash from my account into hers as soon as the bank opened so she’d be able to draw it out as cash on her end. Then I asked her if she knew if the girl’s parents had been notified. She didn’t, so I got that information from her. I was just putting my pen down when I heard the doorbell ring.

  “Gotta go Mum, Philip’s here, he just drove in from Charlotte.”

  “You figured it out I see.”

  “I think so. We’ll talk when you get back, meanwhile take care of Uncle Lester. And don’t get into any more trouble. I swear you two together are one disaster after another.”

  “This wasn’t our fault!” she was saying as I disconnected. “The guy at Walgreen’s, he knows t’weren’t Lester.”

  I didn’t want to hear anymore. Lord knows what she was babbling about now.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Submission As soon as I opened the door, Philip pulled me into his arms and kissed me with such fierce hunger that I was initially taken aback. But by the time he had clasped his hands on either side of my face and walked me backwards into the house, having kicked the door closed behind him, I was on board. Wow, was I on board.

  “I never thought I could love this way again,” he whispered against my neck and I felt the most amazing sense of rightness with the world. Everything was perfect. I was euphoric. He loved me. There wasn’t a cloud on my horizon. Until I remembered my mother, and her new predicament.

  When he had made his way to my ear lobe and was alternately nipping it with his teeth and sucking on it, I whispered, “Uh, something’s happened since we talked. There’s been a problem with my mother, sort of. Well, and my uncle, too.”

  At the mention of a problem, he straightened and looked into my face. “Is she okay?”

  “Oh, she’s never been okay. She’s been a kook from the word go. But yes, she’s fine. Come, sit down,” I said as I pulled him to the sofa, “I’ll tell you all about it.”

  I told him about Jazzy and Crystal, and the mailbox. About my mother calling Uncle Lester, them leaving for Georgia, and her pleading, tearful phone call.

  “I have to get to the bank the moment they open and I’m afraid I’m probably going to have to drive to Georgia to get Uncle Lester a lawyer. If Crystal doesn’t come forward, Uncle Lester could be convicted and spend the rest of his life in jail.”

  He took my hands in his and looked in my face. “Let me help you with this.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t ask . . .”

  His finger on my lips shushed me. “You never need to ask, whatever you need is what I need. Right now I need your mother and uncle safe, just as much as you do.”

  “Really?” I was a bit confused.

  “If you’re not happy, how can I be happy? You’re the most important thing in my world right now. And it’s my job to make you happy. So here�
�s what we’re going to do—”

  I nodded eagerly as he tilted my chin up and looked for agreement.

  “I’m going to call the bank in Georgia and do a wire transfer from my bank in Charlotte—”

  “No, you can’t give me money.”

  “Shhh. Yes, yesI can. But before that, I’m going to call my attorney and have him arrange to get your uncle out of jail. My lawyer, or one he assigns, will be at the courthouse the moment he’s arraigned and by tomorrow night, your mom and uncle should be back here.”

  “You can do all that?”

  “Yes, I can do all that. But it’s going to cost you.”

  “Cost me? How?”

  “Well . . . let’s negotiate, shall we?” He looked into my eyes, leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips. “If I have your mom and your uncle on their way back here within twelve hours, you submit to me. Completely.”

  I swallowed. I wasn’t really sure what that could

  Vivienne of Sugar Sands mean. “Submit?”

  “Completely.”

  “Umm, what does that mean exactly?”

  “One session. You become my love slave. Anything I

  want, you do.”

  “Anything you want me to do, I do?”

  “Yes. Anything I want. No reservations. No exceptions.

  I promise not to hurt you, share you, photograph or film you. But nothing else is negotiable. You will be mine, as if I own you—a cherished possession that I can play with in any manner I desire.”

  Forgetting mom and Uncle Lester for the moment, I realized I was intrigued by the idea, fascinated and curious even. And of course, drawn to him as I was, I wanted to be with him in that way. In all the ways he had been with her. I wanted to step outside the box and have non-vanilla sex. I wanted to see how it was on the seamy side for a change. How it might have been for me if I’d stayed in the topless business and graduated on to something harder and more risqué. I wanted to try some kink.

  His eyebrow raised, he looked to me for confirmation that I would go along with his demands. I nodded, “They have to be on their way back here by four this afternoon.”

  He alreadyhad his cell phone out and was scrolling down his contact list. I saw him press a button, put the phone to his ear and then he stood and walked into one of the bedrooms.

  As soon as he came back. I knew he’d already won. He’d woken up two men at four in the morning and he was smiling from ear–to-ear.

  He pulled me up from the sofa and grabbed me around the waist, hugging me to his chest while he stroked my back. “I haven’t eaten in three days and as it’s all your fault, I think you should fix me some breakfast.”

  “This morning’s scheduled breakfast is turkey slices and grapes.” He made a face. “Unnh Unnh. I want a big hearty breakfast; I have to play master to your slave this afternoon. I need protein, eggs, bacon, sausage . . .” he nibbled on my ear and I acquiesced.

  “I have some bacon and some eggs, and I can make pancakes.”

  “Good, I’ll need the carbs for added energy.” He kissed me on the lips, spun me around and patted me on the ass propelling me toward the kitchen. When we got there he made himself useful pouring juice, making coffee and setting the table, in between caressing my butt cheeks and kissing the back of my neck. I was becoming limper than the bacon I was frying on the stove, and I could feel that he was getting as hard and as long as the bratwurst I’d found in the freezer.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Bondage I don’t know what possessed me to agree to this. Truly, I don’t. But there I was standing naked in front of Philip allowing him to put on this bizarre contraption he brought over. It’s a combination of a bustier, a corset, and something similar to a parachute harness—no parachute attached, thank God. I stripped for him while he sat on my bed watching, and that nervousness culminated in a sheen of musky perspiration and a glowing crimson blush that I knew covered me from head to toe. I was excited, wet beyond belief, and from the look in his eyes, the sexiest thing on the planet, trussed as I was.

  His hands, gentle and sure, wrapped the stays of the corset around my abdomen; the bustier part had underwires that went beneath my breasts leaving both plumped flesh and tingling nipples exposed. He moved around to my back and began pulling on the laces and tugging them tight until I was so constricted I could barely breathe. Then he said,

  “Take a deep breath.”

  “You’re kidding right?” I felt like a boa constrictor was squeezing my waist and ribs with an amazing amount of pressure.

  “Let me get it laced tight, then I can adjust it. Remember,

  trust me. If we don’t have that, we have nothing.” I took a deep breath and he cinched me in but good.

  Then I felt him let out a panel on each side and I was able to

  take in a tiny bit of air. I looked down at my bared breasts,

  high and unbelievably full over the scalloped edges of the

  satin-covered wires. “Just what is the point in all this? It

  doesn’t cover anything.” But I already knew the answer; I

  looked young, firm and unbelievably erotic. It was there in

  his eyes. And I knew I should stop complaining because the

  way he looked at me was the embodiment of desire. I was

  his all, his everything, everything a woman should be in this

  moment. I decided that from that moment on I would revel

  in his attentions. For centuries this was all a woman ever

  lived for—the undying admiration of a powerful and muchsought after man, and I had it. For now, no other woman

  could possibly compete.

  He came around to stand in front of me, tugging and

  adjusting. “No, but it lifts and emphasizes your already

  remarkable attributes. It thrusts your nipples high and juts

  them out. It is a marvelous look. You look amazing.” And as

  if the temptation was more than he could stand, he plucked

  at a nipple making it hard and long and then twisted it back

  and forth like he was winding a watch before bending and

  sucking it into his mouth and milking it. I felt sheets of

  cream dampening me, flooding an area I already knew was

  more than a little damp. Idly, I wondered where the excess

  was going to go. In my mind I pictured it running down the

  inside of my thigh toward my knee like a landslide and his

  tongue catching the trickle midway, forcing it to back up,

  mopping my core juices as it went higher and higher. Where

  I needed it. Exactly where I needed it.

  He released my nipple with a smacking sound and bent

  to kneel at my feet. He began tugging on the straps that were

  hanging from the harness. Under a flap of the bustier, just above the flare of my hips, was a belt that circled my waist. When he was finished, two leather straps hung from the belt caressing my buttocks. He reached between my parted thighs and pulled one through, then he stretched it up the front to the belt at my waist and fastened it. He did the same for the other one. I felt the straps as they lay flat against my skin from just inside my hips to a wide vee going between my legs and then crossing at my anal opening before attaching to the back of the belt above my buttocks. It was snug, but not uncomfortable. He sat back on his haunches and looked

  up and me and said, “Spread your legs a little wider.” I cringed as I did as he asked, looking down to see him

  looking up at me, staring intently at my most private place,

  and then I felt him making adjustments to the straps. His

  fingers were spreading the folds of my labia and tucking

  them under the straps. I nervously glanced at the blinds

  looking for any sliver of light that would indicate a breech.

  God, if anyone saw me like this! What a stupid bargain I had

  made. I could only hope I didn’t live to r
egret it.

  I should have minded, should have protested and backed

  away from all this, but I did not. He was everything I needed

  and so much more than anything I’d ever known. Sure I

  was frightened. I was actually terrified a little. But that was

  one of the draws of being with him; he made everything so

  damned exciting.

  His fingers gently tugging and sliding over me felt very

  erotic and I had to hiss when he teasingly stroked my clit with

  the barest tip of his thumb. I was wet, so wet I was worried

  about the leather straps getting ruined. His fingers withdrew

  with glancing touches on my outer thighs. I almost begged

  him to put them back. I straightened and felt the pressure of

  the straps holding me open, one securing each outer lip and

  leaving me exposed to his gaze. I felt wanton and wicked as

  I looked down and saw him admiring me, I felt as vulnerable

  as I have ever felt. Then his palm cupped my mound, the

  heel of his hand pushing rhythmically against my clit. “I love how this plumps you here and isn’t this sweet,

  your clit is riding high and up front for all to see. Lovely.

  Come, come see for yourself. But first, a tiny taste.” He

  leaned in and took my hooded clit into his mouth and sucked

  it, hard. I felt my knees go weak, and lightning streaked

  though my veins and heated my core. I became lightheaded

  with euphoria, my traitorous body arched against him, and

  I felt him chuckle against me. Then he pulled my clit away

  from my body, stretching it by using just his lips and tugging

  slowly, ever so slowly. I felt myself sway. I was dying here.

  He groaned as if it pained him to let it go as he released it.

  I could feel it was a different shape now, plumper, longer,

  throbbing with its own pulse.

  He walked me over to the full-length mirror on my closet

  door. My eyes widened. My breasts were huge, nipples taut