by Gina Whitney
Chance hopped on the phone, ordering up whatever the Irish closer wanted.
The brawny Irishman came to rest next to me, removing the pillow blockade I built. He grabbed my hand. “I want to tell you a little story, sweets.” His tone was serious. He was very much awake. “Before I get started. I have to say. All that beer last night is really tugging on the old fart-strings, Lad.” He looked at Abel, cracking a smile.
Oh, I got it. He wanted to defuse Nuclear Abel. Humor went a long way between the boys. I shook my head. Unbelievable. I set out a long sigh. I was in a nightmare and he was telling fart jokes.
“Sorry, my dear,” he continued. “That wasn’t part of my story. Just a side-note,” he explained. Ah, yeah. Great. This is what I have to deal with being surrounded by men. They were really just big toddlers who still laughed about farting. “He didn’t have intercourse with that betty,” he continued casually.
“Oh, thank you fucking God. Really, Woody?” I grabbed the pillow, throwing it at Abel’s head. Fucker. He caught it, putting in down carefully on the other couch.
“Let me start again. The girl was a fucking mess. She offered herself to anyone who wanted a sniff. We were not interested.” He looked at Abel, nodding. Abel nodded back in agreement. Christ, these two were parrots of each other. I started cracking my knuckles. I did that when I got anxious.
“Don’t do that. My mum did that and had knuckles like a fucking bloke,” he clarified. Great, now that that’s out of the way… He was stalling until he thought of something I’d bite. No thank you. I sat back, closing my eyes.
A long sigh escaped me. “Why were his hands on her?” I asked. This should be good.
“They were on her skirt technically. I asked the fella to help me right her. She was a mess. I have a heart. She’s someone’s daughter, right?” he asked, trying his best to convince me.
Oh, my God. He was going for that angle. Now they were good Samaritan’s. Typical. Why had I thought this might go any other way?
I stood from the coach. I had enough bullshit from them. “Sit your ass down. We’re not done here. Not by a motherfucking longshot,” Able roared.
I sat. I didn’t want to, but his angry face scared the fuck out of me. Chance opened the door, cheerfully greeting the server who brought Woody’s beer.
He handed Chance a bottle. “Aye, thank you, lad.” He cheered Chance with his bottle. Chance being Chance, smiled appreciatively. Mental eye-roll to the highest order. I’d remember to kick him down a flight of stairs.
“He boxed off her…umm box. And I covered her fun-bags,” he continued. Well isn’t that interesting. Fun-bags. I nodded to Abel, who was whiter than white.
“Just shut the fuck up, Wood. Your translation’s making it worse.” He knelt before me. “Beauty, why would I ever want another? Ever?” he asked.
Good point. Why? I crossed my leg, putting as much distance between us.
“I pulled down the slut’s skirt. She was all exposed. Woody closed her top. Someone must have taken the picture just as my hands were on her skirt. Her skirt— not her. I’d never touch another. I swear it.”
“And the other pic with the blonde?” I asked, waiting for his explanation.
His hand now rested on the back of his neck. “On my way out, a girl asked me to take a picture with her. That’s the honest truth. I did it because I was being a prick to everyone the whole time I was there. I felt guilty. You know I haven’t been doing press. I can’t be bothered by those whores. You’re my life now.” Simple, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t true. I don’t need elaborate explanations. The truth’s on my side.
“That right there was beautiful.” Woody pointed at Abel. Chance agreed readily. Oh, brother. Well, he certainly sounded sincere. But was he?
“Swear to me?” I asked, looking him dead in his chocolaty eyes. It was the true test. I didn’t know him to be a bold faced liar. Funny, right? It was if you thought about it. Yet, there I was, demanding it from him.
“I swear it.” He crossed his heart. He crossed his heart so he had to be telling the truth. “Beauty…” He grabbed my face with both of his ringed hands. “I plan on showing you really soon, baby.” He pressed his lips to mine.
“Goodnight, pricks.” Woody abruptly got off the couch. “Not you, my dear. These other two lads.” He pointed at Abel and Chance.
Chance beamed essentially. He was thrilled that Woody was even talking to him. He usually took a wide birth.
“It’s the way of my people.” Woody bowed, closing the door behind him
“You good? You need me to stay? I could stay out here if needed,” Chance continued fretting.
“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll text you in the morning.” I got up to kiss his cheek. He really was a dear friend. But what I wouldn’t give for a little Cindy-time. We walked him to the door. “Goodnight.” I squeezed his arm, silently thanking him. I decided to leave the two of them for a few minutes. I just wanted to crawl into bed and think…
That was not the way I liked to woken during the night. Good fucking God up in heaven. I called a meeting with the band first thing in the morning. This time I couldn’t fault the cancer bitch Morgana. Or Commando. He’s been effective in protecting my beauty. However, someone very close to me was purposefully fucking with my life. I peeked into the bedroom, watching my beauty’s form cuddled around all her pillows. She didn’t feel secure. I knew by the amount of pillows she surrounded herself with. One of the many secrets she’s shared with me. We promised to share a secret a night. I knew in my gut that she was holding something big back. I felt it. However, I refused to push. I wanted her to tell me as organically as possible. Trust. It’s important that we grow it mutually.
I was going to wait on proposing, too. But I’m not sure that would be wise. Then again, I also didn’t want her perceiving it as a gesture of guilt. I needed to think. Needed some clarity. So, I sucked it up and called the old man for advice. I explained the story. He agreed that right now it would come off to Gia as a Wag the dog, as she called it. She’d say I was making something of secondary importance improperly take the place of something of primary importance. Talk about a mind-fuck. She did remind me at times of my own version of Amy Dunne.
My pops offered to come with Mom for a long weekend. He’d have to wrap some things up with work, but it was doable. I told him I’d get back to him. His call ended with I love you, son. I opened my mouth in response but closed it just as quickly. I wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. We both had some things to work out before that happened.
On another fucked up note…It was hard not to take it personally that she didn’t trust me. My pictures were always going to circulate, especially while Lethal Abel was successful. Couple that with a comprising position and bang, you’ve got headlines. I refused to be villainized. Nor would I apologize. Fuck that noise. Time to wake up Beauty…
I crawled through the mountains of pillows to pull her into my lap. “Wake up, my beauty.”
She rubbed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. I, of course, knew her. She was waiting and over-thinking. I knew that pretty little head of hers was going to spin it into only God knows what. Time to straighten shit out.
She peeked up at me. “It’s taking every ounce of self-control not to take you over my knee right now. I’m going to be honest with you, you’ve hurt me deeply. I know you see this as something being done to you. However, there’s another person in this relationship. That’d be me. You’ve hurt the man, and the Dom. You’re supposed to trust and depend on me. Your distrust in me only solidifies I have failed you— us.”
She was stunned. Good. She needed to see the bigger picture. It wasn’t a game I was playing. It’s a lifestyle I’ve chosen to live with her. I put some distance between us and went to the terrace, leaving her in bed. I heard her sob and it took everything in me not to turn. I didn’t. The cool night’s breeze was welcomed on my burning skin. I was pissed.
“If you fell backward. Who would catch you?”
&nbs
p; “You,” she said weakly. I turned quickly to face her.
“Me.” I pointed to my chest. “That’s fucking correct. Are you positive?” I waited.
“Positive, Sir,” she answered. Her eyes said she was submitting. Her heart was another matter altogether.
“I would fucking dive head-first with an iron grip to save you,” I yelled. This point needed to have been made. It was important for her to understand. “I don’t think I earned that trust. I know you feel you mean it. However, your insecurity tonight proved otherwise, Gia.” I punctuated her name, knowing that she’d know from that how very hurt I was. “We shall have no secrets— ever. Thus making our bond unbreakable until the day I cease to please you. For you are my Master, and I your beauty for all time. Do you remember those words, pet?” Fuck, it was hard speaking so distantly. Again, she needed to know her place. I wasn’t done yet, either. “Did you not ask me for a collar?”
Her tears ran freely. “Yes, I did,” she said, grabbing the pillow for comfort. Fuck that.
“Put the pillow down, Gia. Look at me.” She shook with fear. Not my intent. This wasn’t about punishment. It was another lesson she needed to learn. She would now. This was about trust— all about trust. “How can you wear my collar and not trust me? You can’t,” I said turning away from her. “You said you loved me…”
“I…I…do. I swear it. Please…” she begged. That was a start, but just a start.
“You are mine. You belong to me. To use as I see fit. To take when I wish. To fuck how I wish. To do whatever the fuck I wish. But also to love. I do utterly-deeply-irremovably-without-a-fucking-doubt love you. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Everything,” she sobbed into her hands. “I’m an insecure mess of a sub.” She continued making excuses that I already was aware of. Fuck yes she was insecure.
“Get on your knees,” I asked her.
She climbed off the bed and carefully made her way to me. Then lowered herself gracefully. She knelt with her hands outstretched, palms on the floor. Her legs pressed tightly together and toes pointed. Her ankles and feet rose off the floor. Perfection…sheer fucking perfection. Now, she’d hold that pose and think about trust until I said so…
I busied myself having a cigar off the living room terrace. I liked cigars, though, I didn’t love them. It was a better alternative to a cigarette considering that usually went hand and hand with a scotch. At the moment, I desperately wanted two fucking fingers of scotch and a cigarette. I needed to do something with my hands, and since sticking them in my lovely was out of the question for now…this was my alternative. Before taking my cigar outside, I went to the safe, shoving the tiny blue box in my pocket. Lighter, cigar, water…check.
I took my time lighting the Davidoff cigar my father left behind. The fucker took a while to light. Ah, there we go. Toke. Toke. Puff. I kicked back after fingering the blue box free from my sweats. The cigar hung off the edge of the table as I opened the box. A 5.5-carat pink Asscher diamond sparkled in the moonlight. It was perfectly Gia in every way. I wanted something unique and different and this met every expectation. My father’s jeweler came through.
I closed the box putting it in my pocket. I reached into my other pocket taking out the matching pink diamond collar I bought her to wear. A true bridal set in my eyes and I couldn’t wait to see it on her. It was time to return the jewels to the safe and for me to return to Gia. I extinguished the cigar with a heavy heart. I gave Beauty plenty to reflect on, but I hoped her fractured reflection didn’t break my heart. Her mind was a threat to my heart and I didn’t know how much more my heart could take.
She was still in perfect pose. I knew by her little breaths that she was nervous. I walked over to the armoire that held my bondage toys. Hmm, I wasn’t sure I wanted to use the new vibrating glass rabbit. It was more of an extended-tease orgasm-denial type of lesson. A psychological lesson I loved and she hated. Perfect. I grabbed the Hitachi magic wand.
“Your orgasms belong to me. They are a gift to you. I will give or withhold them for my pleasure. Do you remember that conversation, Beauty?” I asked, waiting patiently. She knew what it meant. I could see it in her now stiffened pose. “Breathe, little one.” And so it begins…
“Please…”
“I don’t want to hear words unless you chose to use your safe word. Understood?”
She nodded solemnly.
“Rise, please.”
She sat up straight on the backs of her legs, pressing the tops of her feet into the floor with her toes still pointed. With poise, she returned to a standing position and waited for her next command. My fucking dick was hard as fuck. She was so beautiful. My sunshine in the darkness.
“Go to the bed and lay on your back. I want your hands tucked under your knees. Spread them wide, Beauty.” I watched as she obeyed flawlessly without question. I removed the bindings and tied her hands to her knees. “I’m going to bring you to the edge of orgasm and then deny you until it’s time to fuck.”
She never spoke a word. She already knew what was coming. Ninety percent of sex is in the head. I planned on expanding her mind tonight. I held the hatachi to her clit, alternating from low to high. I was mindful when using this. In the wrong spot, it could be uncomfortable. My intent was to make her scream in ecstasy, not agony. And so I played. She screamed— intensely. I was going to blow my load if I wasn’t inside her soon. I continued to tease the outside of her pussy with the head, turning it off when her orgasm was near. As soon as her legs stopped shaking, I flipped it on again. I didn’t want her pussy numb. She needed to feel my cock filling her up. A dead, numb pussy isn’t good for anyone.
I turned it off, putting it to the side. With my cock in hand, I was already stroking myself. Fuck, she was wet. Her juices were glistening. I wanted to spend the evening licking up all that shit, but my cock needed to be buried deep in her cunt. She needed to be owned. And it was time I owned that shit— hard.
I grabbed her pussy lips between my fingers. “Who does this belong to, lovely?”
“You,” she moaned wrestling with her bindings.
“Mine.” I worked my cock into her wet hole. I didn’t go gently. This wasn’t about love-making. That’ll come later. This was about her trust in me…in us. I was going to pound the doubt out of her head with my cock. Yeah, I could be a brutal fuck. I wasn’t a sadist, though. I had this need to mark her that was primal. She needed to be filled with my come. I wanted to watch it drip from her legs as she slept. This was a give and take relationship. I’d give her many orgasms for being a good-girl, and take what was mine. “I plan on emptying you out and filling you with my cock, Beauty.” Not a word was spoken between us. Just primitive sounds and murmurs.
So, I spent the rest of the remaining hours doing just that, over and over again. When dawn broke over the olive groves, I was convinced she understood a little more about trust and a fuck lot more about jumping to the wrong conclusions. She wouldn’t mistrust again. Mission accomplished…
I left my well sated beauty sleeping with Commando acting as a sentinel just outside the hallway door. “Good day, sir?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck.
“Not particularly.” I hit the elevator button a little too hard. Whatever. Someone had some explaining to do. “There’s been a breach. It’s unquestionably coming from within. I’m going to find the fucker and kill him myself.” I spit into the ashtray.
“You should let me handle that, sir. Isn’t that why I’m here? It’s what I get paid for,” he said, reaching into his pocket for some dip. Huh. I didn’t take him for a tobacco chewer.
“Can I grab that tin a minute?” I asked as he handed me the tin of Menthol flavored tobacco. Perfect. I grabbed a good pinch stuffing it just inside my lip. Insta-nicotine. Fucking brilliant. This is going to be my new best friend. “Can you grab me a tin? Not now, but later. I’d appreciate it.” I returned his tin.
“Sure. Any particular flavor?” he asked. He seemed surprised. Why, rockers don’t
chew tobacco? When you are an addict, you look for other ways to get what you need. Right now, I needed one-dead-rat-motherfucker and a tin of tobacco.
“Nope, the one you have is fine.” I stepped onto the elevator.
I walked into Dave’s room and the war-room was in full swing. Thank fuck for that. Chance hurried over with my espresso. “Oh, thank God you’re here. It’s been so stressful around here. Everyone’s pointing the finger at each other. It’s terrible.” He handed me my cup.
I took my espresso in one mouthful. Yeah, it was going to be that kind of day. Dave, Jack, Woody, and Ender sat around the table awaiting my words.
“Give me your phone, Ender.” I waved at him.
“Why?” He abruptly stood, knocking the chair over.
“Because I asked. Is that a problem?” I shrugged. Was it? It shouldn’t be, right?
“Fuck you, concha,” he spat.
“That’s your response…to call me a cunt?” I shook my head. “You took that motherfuckin’ picture in Amsterdam in your suite. And said the picture happened to find its way to the tabloids and then into my girl’s hand,” I yelled, moving closer to him so I could wrap my hands around his neck.
“Oh Em Gee! Don’t hit him, Abel,” Chance screamed.
“Sit yer pussy-ass down, Chancy,” Woody called out.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Chance taking a seat. What a little pussy bitch. We were going to have a talk later.
“Listen man, I don’t have my fucking phone, okay? When I woke up that morning, it was gone. I never activated the trace on it when I purchased it,” he spit out in one breath. And there you have it, if I believed that to be true, which I really wasn’t fucking sure right about then. He threw up his hands like what the fuck? It was typical posturing for Ender, blaming someone else. My phone never left my side— ever.