by Vi Keeland
I was just pushing myself away from the desk when the soft chime of an incoming message sounded. The little red envelope was flashing. I clicked on the icon and a message from Jake opened on the screen.
Hi Abby,
I’d put a smiley face emoticon here, but I’m technically challenged when it comes to things like that. So I’ll just say that I’m very happy you’ve agreed to meet me. How about Georgia’s? If you’re free tonight, how about a drink, say, 8:00? Just casual, nothing too intense.
Jake
I knew the place; it was upscale, nice…some place I’d driven by but never been inside of. And tonight. Go…do it. Either you’ll enjoy yourself, or you’ll get it over with and be done with this.
Hi Jake,
Georgia’s sounds fine and so does 8:00. I’ll see you then.
Abby
The bedroom was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere. I’d taken a shower, tried to eat something, gave up on that and then tried to decide on something wear. ‘Something casual’ may be easy for him to say, but it sent me into a panic. I resisted the urge to call Leslie, simply because she would tell me I was crazy.
Finally I decided on a black silk tank and jacket and a pair of dark jeans. I added my favorite heeled boots, happy I could wear the four inch heels and not tower over Jake.
Hair was another issue. I brushed it out, put it up, curled it, brushed it out…and finally just let it curl around my shoulders. Jewelry was easier; black onyx bracelet and earrings, an assortment of silver chains and I called the outfit complete.
The only sure thing was the perfume; I splurge on a custom blend containing something called Dragon’s Blood. It’s exotic, indescribably floral and absolutely wonderful. I dabbed it behind my ears, at the base of my throat and my wrists…and for good measure, my cleavage. Just the scent alone makes me feel confident and beautiful. Hopefully it would have a positive effect on Jake.
As luck would have it, I was late to Georgia’s. Traffic was snarled and by the time I parked, I was fifteen minutes late and growing flustered. I pulled open the door, the sounds of the bar spilling out into the cool night air, and slipped inside. I scanned the bar, looking for a tall man in a white t-shirt, which Jake said he’d be wearing.
My heart sank. There was no one there in a white shirt. Great. I make the commitment and I miss him by minutes.
I was turning to leave when I felt a firm hand on my elbow. Startled, I turned, looking up into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.
“Hi, Abby.”
His voice was low, but clear, husky without being raspy. I don’t think I’d ever heard my name sound quite so beautiful. I started up at him.
“Sorry to startle you. I met someone I knew at the other end of the bar. It took me a minute to get away.” I continued to stare, unable to speak.
Speak, Abby. Drop the deer in the headlights act. I shook myself out of my embarrassing trance.
“Hi, Jake. Sorry, but you did catch me a little off guard. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“No, not at all. Come on, there’s more room in the back; it’s not so crowded there. We can find a private banquette.”
Jake continued to gently hold my arm, steering me with easy grace through the crowd. The long mahogany bar was crowded with a loud mix of young business professionals, but as we made our way through the brick archway into the depths of the room, the crowd thinned out. Jake found a small banquette in the quiet back room. As I slid onto the black leather, Jake asked what I’d like to drink, disappeared towards the bar, and soon returned with a glass of Chardonnay for me and what looked like a glass of bourbon for himself.
“It’s domestic. I hope that’s okay with you?” He looked at me expectantly as he set the glass on the small table.
“I’m sure it will be fine.” I’m way out of my league here.
I took a tentative sip. I’d been far too nervous to eat dinner and now was afraid any alcohol I drank would go straight to my head. But the wine was excellent and I took a larger swallow, the soft warmth of the wine spreading through my body, quelling the butterflies in my stomach.
Georgia’s is large but still manages to seem intimate. The brick covered walls, Oriental patterned carpet and soft lighting conspire to make it cozy, even though the place was packed. We sipped our drinks in silence for a few minutes, watching the crowd as it ebbed and flowed past us. I realized there was still more rooms beyond where we sat; peering past Jake I saw through another series of arches several pool tables, each glowing green beneath its own set of lights.
Once we started talking though, the nerves faded away. Jake put me at ease almost instantly, avoiding the usual litany of first encounter questions: where are you from, what do you do, read any good books lately? He told stories, good stories. I found myself laughing more than I thought I would. Jake had a good sense of humor, gently poking fun at himself as he told stories about growing up on a ranch in Texas.
“…and so I ended up flat on my face, being dragged through a pile of horse dung, with one foot caught in the stirrup. My horse was looking down at me and I swear, if he could have spoken, he would have called me a damned fool. I never tried that again.”
I laughed. “It’s amazing you survived your childhood.” I took another sip of my wine, stealing a glance at his face in the subdued lighting of the back room. His chiseled features, in this light, were beyond handsome. Part of me was a bit intimidated; I’d never been anywhere near anyone so good looking. His lips alone were enough to make my heart beat faster. They were sensuous, full and he had an almost, but not quite, pouty lower lip. I could fully imagine being kissed by him and loving every second of it.
Rising, I excused myself to the ladies room. I really needed a moment to catch my breath and remind myself why I was here.
Once there, I looked at my face in the mirror. I was flushed, high color in my cheeks. Calm down, girl, you’ve only just me the man. And this is different. It’s not what you’re used to.
Jake was not remotely like any type of man I’d met in the past. And that was good. I wasn’t going to give my heart away again; that’s not what this was about. Leslie had read me the riot act about getting hurt…again…and I’d tried to tell her this was different. It wasn’t about a relationship, or at least not a traditional sense.
Underneath all the nerves and butterflies and flushed cheeks, I didn’t really want to be interested in Jake in a romantic way nor him in me. I don’t want hearts and flowers and long walks in the twilight, holding hands. I wanted to learn my limits, explore this deep and probably dark side of my sexuality. That Jake was drop dead gorgeous certainly didn’t hurt in any way. But I’d be damned if, when this ended, I’d cry myself to sleep over him.
And there was that yet-unspoken aspect of our relationship: the bondage or domination or whatever it was going to be. We’d skirted the edges of that topic but had yet to address it head on.
Jake was watching me as I walked back across the room to our table, and for a moment I was that same self-conscious girl I was with most men I’d met, feeling judged and found lacking. And I kicked myself for feeling that way.
But then I saw his eyes moving over my body with something closer to frank admiration, a seductive smile playing about one corner of his mouth, and not the derision I had expected. My heart did a little hand spring.
“I took the liberty of getting you another glass of Chardonnay and ordering us a plate of appetizers. I’m not sure about you, but to be honest, I was a little nervous about this meeting and I passed on eating dinner. But now I’m finding my appetite has returned, with a vengeance.”
I slid into the banquette, nodding my head. “Same here. I mean, with the nerves. And the appetite, I guess. Something to nibble on will be nice.”
The food arrived shortly and over the delicious spicy bits of food the topic turned to our relative employment. I explained where I worked and what I did and talked a bit about the clients I had. Then I asked him where he worked.
J
ake looked at me, an unreadable look on his face, that enigmatic half-mile curling at the edge of his mouth.
“I didn’t think you knew who I am,” he said finally. He had told me his last name was McNamara, but there was nothing in that name that rang any bells for me.
“I’m the President and CEO of McNamara Oil.”
I blinked, staring. I tried to formulate some kind of reply, but I was speechless. McNamara Oil was one of Houston’s—probably one of Texas’s—largest oil companies. My palms suddenly grew damp and my throat went dry; I was sitting in the presence of one of the wealthiest men in Texas. I took a large swallow of my fresh Chardonnay.
“I hope that’s not going to be a problem for you.” Jake was looking at me, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “It can be hard for some women, being seen with a fairly well-known figure. It can be…uncomfortable at times. I’m occasionally in the public eye. And sometimes I’m a target I guess you could say, for unwelcome attention from a certain type of woman. Being who I am and being a bachelor is hard sometimes.” He gave a rueful laugh, shaking his head. “It’s had its darker moments.”
Dark moments? As much as I wanted to pursue that remark, I let it pass. I mentally shook my head.
“No, I mean, yes…I mean…” It finally dawned on me that a fairly steady stream of people, including quite a few gorgeous young women, had waved or smiled a greeting to Jake, even in the secluded corner where we were seated. I took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that I apologize that I didn’t recognize who you are. I should have, but nothing clicked with the name.” I looked down at my disarrayed plate of food, poking a discarded shrimp tail with my fork.
“To be honest, I think I was a bit overwhelmed by all of this…” I waved my fork around “…the whole domination and bondage aspect of all of this to even make the connection.”
He still looked concerned. I pushed on with my bumbling explanation. “But no, I don’t think that it’s going to be a factor in taking this relationship wherever it’s going to go. It’s more about who you are than what you do.”
A look of relief passed across his handsome face, the frown lines fading. He grinned, a charming boyish smile that lit up his eyes, and sent a distinct wave of something warm coursing through my body.
“Good. I’m glad.” He picked through the plate of food in front of him for a moment, finally looking up at me. “If you’re ready, I think I’d like to talk about what we expect from this relationship going forward.”
I swallowed hard. This was the part of this meeting I was dreading the most. I had no frame of reference for this type of conversation, but it was the reason we were here. I nodded, not really knowing what to say, letting him take the lead.
“First I’d like to say that I find you a very attractive woman, Abby. I think we have a great chemistry already and you’re very easy to talk to. I think a large part of what’s going to make this work for us is good communication, both in and out of the bedroom.”
The word bedroom set my heart to pounding. This is really happening.
“Going back to who I am, I’d ask that our relationship be kept confidential.”
Something in my look must have alarmed him. He reached out, taking my hand in his. It was the first time he’d touched me intimately, with intention.
His voice was soft, intense. “I misspoke, I’m sorry. I’m not saying that I don’t want to be seen with you; I do. I’d be honored to be seen with you anywhere; I’d be the envy of every man who saw us.”
I felt myself blush to the roots of my hair. He went on, a serious cast to his voice.
“There may be times when I would want you to accompany me to public events, maybe even as part of your submissive role. I do want to show you off. But for the rest, what we do in private, stays private. There are too many people who would fall on that part of our relationship and tear us to shreds.”
He squeezed my hand again. “And I wouldn’t want that for you. I can handle myself, but it’s not something I’d expect you to handle.” He hesitated, still holding my hand.
“So, are you okay with this so far?” He was looking at me intensely. I nodded.
“Good. I’m glad.” He released my hand, his face relaxing. The absence of his touch was almost as palpable as the warmth I’d felt from him. I left my hand on the table with the hopes he’d take it in his again.
“Alright. So the basis of this relationship, for me, is exploring bondage and domination in a sexual relationship with a willing partner. I’m not really into the sadistic, masochistic part of BDSM, or at least I’m not interested in pursuing that now. But I’m very interested in the other aspects.” He took a swallow of bourbon.
“As I said, this is all new to me. I haven’t been in a place in my life before, I guess, where I felt comfortable pursuing this.” He looked at me, a calculating look in his eyes. Then he smiled.
“And you’re still on board with this? You’re very quiet. I don’t want to dominate the conversation…” He broke off, grinning at his word choice. “What’s your motivation for being here? What are you looking for in all this, Abby?”
I took a deep breath. “I guess I’m interested in the same things as you are, only from the other side.” I toyed with my wine glass, twirling the stem between my fingers. Time to be honest here, Abby.
“I haven’t had very good luck with men. Nothing ever works out. But there are things I want to explore in myself, the relationship between pain and pleasure, how I can give up control in return for something…hopefully something more, exciting? More intense? I’m not sure. I’m not a girl that enjoys either pain or not being in control. But in this case, it’s different…” My voice trailed off. “It’s complicated.”
Jake smiled. “It is, isn’t it? And I guess it’s something we’re going to learn along the way, and learn together. This is all new to me as well.” He broke off as a stunning redhead sauntered past our table, waving at him. He gestured briefly in return.
His gaze returned to me. “I was told it’s not wise for an inexperienced Dom to choose an inexperienced sub, that I’d be asking for trouble. But somehow, to me at least, it seemed like it would be, well, not so much easier but more comfortable learning and exploring with someone who was just as inexperienced in this as I am.”
Jake’s voice had grown low. I leaned forward to catch his words.
“I have all the confidence in the world in my ability to run a multi-million dollar corporation. But here, I’m not quite as sure of myself.” He sat back suddenly, a startled look on his face.
“It just occurred to me. Maybe that’s part of this too, that I’m looking for an arena where I’m not master of all I survey; I’m starting from ground zero here. Perhaps I’m looking for a challenge, something else I can master.”
Jake smiled, that boyish charming smile that seems to do funny things to my stomach. “I don’t want you to think you’re a project or an experiment. I want you to enjoy this, to learn and grow with me and, hopefully, make this a mutually beneficial experience, for as long as it lasts. How does that sound?” He touched my hand briefly. “And I interrupted you. I’m sorry about that.”
“No, you’re fine. You’re much clearer on your motivations than I am.” I sat back against the leather of the banquette. “I want to challenge myself as well, see how far I’m willing to go with this. And I read some of the forum posts on the website; I should be picking an experienced Dom as well.”
Jake laughed, a wonderful sound. “I guess we’re going about this all wrong, but it seems like the right approach for me.”
The rest of the evening passed easily and very quickly. We were still talking when the bar closed. Jake walked me to my car, both of us quiet in the dark. I was shivering in the cool air but I thought it was due more to Jake than the spring air. We were at my car far too soon.
“Well, Abby…” Jake hesitated only briefly before pulling me against him, looking down at me. I could see his eyes in the sem
i-darkness, hooded, almost black. Gently he bent his head, his lips brushing softly against mine. I may have moaned a little then.
He slowly increased the pressure of his lips on mine, capturing my lower lip in his, caressing it briefly with the tip of his tongue. Releasing me, he looked down into my eyes. His voice was low, seductive and very arousing.
“I think we’re going to be good together, Abby. Very good together.” He pulled me back into his arms. This time his kiss was anything but gentle. His lips claimed mine fully, his tongue seeking entrance—which I granted—probing, searching, setting a fire alight in my stomach. I know I moaned then, and loudly.
When he finally released me, I staggered briefly, reluctant to open my eyes. His hands still held me and kept me from falling. I heard his soft laugh, his warm breath, still carrying the soft scent of good bourbon, washing over me.
“I’ll call you tomorrow…give us the night to think about what we’ve talked about.” He ran a finger down my cheek, catching a wind-blown strand of hair and tucking it behind my ear. He leaned forward, kissing my forehead.
He waited until I’d pulled out of the parking lot before leaving. I saw him in my rearview mirror, hand raised in a brief wave. And then he turned away, heading to his own car.
It was a long, long time before I fell asleep. My mind was whirling, much of it going over everything we’d talked about, but a large part replaying our kiss, the feeling of his lips on mine, his hands on my body. Even though his kisses had been brief, they had been powerful, but in different ways. The first hadn’t been tentative or hesitant, but soft, asking rather than demanding.
There had been a latent force in his second kiss that was hard to pinpoint, but in it I felt the potential Jake carried to dominate, to carry me along with his will. To make me submit, willingly.
It was a heady combination, the gentleness of his first kiss followed by his outright claim to my mouth with the second. I finally drifted off wondering how these opposites would play out in the bedroom.