by Jacqwin Hess
“Do you not feel joy and happiness now?”
“No, Sebastian, I don’t, not in the same capacity you’re thinking. You’re thinking of money and materialistic things, but that’s not what gets me excited. For me, joy is in the masses, in people. That’s what I know. All this…” She waved her hand up in front of her and looked around her. “…all you have; the fancy cars, houses, and all your designer duds?...don’t impress me. It’s yours and yours alone, sitting here vacant, lifeless, and empty. So, forgive me, but no, it’s not impressive or worth the hell that is your life and seeing that you never have a moment of joy because of you’re battling, conquering, and working. I at least wouldn’t ever be happy. I’m not into things, but…I am impressed with the land, the lake, and everything outside the house. You’ve got my weakness there, the boathouse, that boat—stunning!
“My joy comes…in seeing other people happy, filled with joy and having wonderful things happen to them. My joy comes from other people’s joy. My joy is from being around people. You. That’s why I could never stay working in the medical field. I ah…could never just…leave it behind, come home, and unwind and forget work. I came home and…fell apart. I met those people, their families, and fell in love with them and…died when they died, mourned when they mourned. It killed me. I couldn’t just leave it and so I had to stop working in that field, and that also meant going to foreign countries with the hospital down in South America and Mexico. I would fall in love with the people and go back to see them, filled with excitement, hope, and joy and…when we get there…they were gone, murdered, little babies, mothers…or the entire family. Children, or what was left of them, would be brought to us. It just…got to be too much, took too much of a toll and wore on me. Cal warned me, told me I’d regret it, but…even with all the heartache, I don’t regret any of it, not for a second.
“Yes, I’ve known joy, unequivocally; knowing them and loving them and hugging and holding them, making their lives, what they would have of it, beautiful, a little better and with a little less suffering, if just for a moment. Of course, my kind of joy isn’t for everyone. But anyway, back to you. I find myself asking, what good is all that money if…you’re not living and you’re not happy, and you can’t be happy if you’re never out enjoying it, out seeing the beauty in the world—and I bet your idea of beauty and my idea are two different things.”
“What do you think my idea of beauty is?”
“Honestly? And not pissing you off?”
“You’ve been pretty forthright so far, why stop now?”
“I think…you like numbers, lots…and lots…of numbers, with a big fat dollar sign in front of it. You like the look of the P and L—profit and loss figures—and seeing a beautiful massive figure next to the P. You love owning things, not just materialistic shit, but people, especially people and, no doubt, a beautiful, thoroughly fucked, naked bitch in your bed.”
“Every man, rich or poor, likes that. Some even live for it, but you don’t know me like you think you do. No one does. I’m not as carnal as that.”
“Then what do you live for? I think it’s so sad that you’re so consumed by what you do, your work. Why do you do it?”
Sebastian stepped forward, getting closer and he was glad she didn’t back away from him. “I’m not…the monster the media makes me out to be. All the companies I’ve taken over were being ruined by the owners and headed for disaster, costing thousands their jobs. Most of the companies I take over, I revamp, keep, and make them better.”
“Oh wow. So, you’re doing that, like a Robin Hood?”
“Yes! Robin Hood; that’s me. I’ve saved those companies, bought them up and fixed them, got them out of the red. Only three times have I gone after corporations and…liquidated and broke them apart, for personal reasons I can’t…go into,” he replied quietly, looking down as he ran his fingers over the marble countertop. “They were my first raid. The neighborhoods I’ve bought and saved were infested with thieves, drugs, rapist, and murderers. The houses—dilapidated.”
“Yeah, again, your version and others version differ. I mean, we drove here and you look over the place and ‘it’s just all right.’ That’s what you said; ‘with some repair and TLC it will be halfway decent.’ This place is heaven, immaculate and beautiful, a creaking step or floorboard or a scratch in the wood, it gives it character, and some things are there because it’s the life of the house, the home’s story of a little rich, spoiled brat that threw a fit and tossed his toy at the wall, busting it.”
Sebastian immediately thought of the hole that’s still in the wall in the bedroom behind the door where he’d flown into a rage at his mother. He looked down, forcing the unpleasant memory away, taking a drink of his wine and staring up at the million-dollar painting on the wall, thinking back on her. Part of him was thinking that he just couldn’t win with this chick and was about to regret ever bringing her, but…the truth was, the little minx had him pegged. It was starting to tickle his conscience a bit over what he had planned and was going to do to her as she spoke more, telling too much of herself he didn’t want to hear—or more accurately, didn’t want to be true. She actually was a good girl, charitable and kind, loving and sweet–and what he wanted to do to her was anything but…
Though again, he felt a bit agitated with her being a bit of a ball buster right now and there was no winning with her...and making him sound like the worst piece of shit.
Adri saw it. She saw him shut down, growing angry, cold, as he stared away from her, drinking the last of his wine. She suddenly realized what she’s been saying and how it had to have sounded to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across as—”
The phone rang and she immediately rose up, grabbing their plates and dashing into the kitchen to start cleaning up. He had to take the call, going into his office to deal with it. About twenty minutes later, he came out and saw she had cleaned the kitchen. The leftovers were in containers in the fridge, clean pots sitting on the stove to dry, and the plates washed, dried, and put away. The only thing left were the utensils left in the bottom of the sink that were soaking. He looked around for her, but didn’t see her.
“Adriaunn?!” He stepped down into the front room and saw the outside light down by the dock was on, he froze, staring down as she stripped out of her clothes and dove into the water. “Oh hell!” His phone rang again, answering it to his drunk buddies shouting at him to get his ass down to the restaurant they went to for drinks after work, but he told them there was no way it was happening and steered the conversation back to business—then thought on everything Adri just said and shook his head. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up on them and came to his feet, staring down to the water over the top of his wine glass as he drained his glass. “What the fuck am I doing?”
Adri smiled up at him as he stepped out to the end of the dock, looking down at where she swam in the water, dressed in her panties and bra. “It’s amazing. Are you sure you don’t want to join me?”
“Ah…tempting, but…no,” he replied and then unfolding the robe he held out for her. She gave him a pouty frown for a second, then swam over to the dock, jumping out and spinning around to let him put it on her. She had hoped he would shove her back, shove her panties off, and get her naked, but…he didn’t, leaving her alone as she wrapped the robe closed and then took her hand, taking her back inside. He informed her that he had shampoo, soaps, and all the other stuff girls need in the bathroom—meaning he wanted her to go take a shower. She secretly laughed at him, but took the hint and left to go do as he wanted.
When she came out, the robe and all her clothes were gone. There was now a huge slate-gray robe laid out for her. She slipped it on, melting in utter pleasure, rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘ohmigod’ over and over at how good that damn robe felt. Jeez Louise! Talk about life of the rich and spoiled. She giggled into her hand and then left out of the bathroom, rubbing an equally luxurious towel over her hair.
“I d
on’t give a good fuck what it says, Carter. It’s what you guys are paid for. I’m not in New York right now and I won’t available until—what?” Sebastian shouted into the phone, listening to his lawyers on the other end as he paced in front of the window. “You know what—tell her I said to go fuck herself. Don’t give her one red cent. Not ONE. I’ll be back whenever I get back, maybe Monday. Maybe Thursday. Maybe next fucking week. I’m not…answering to that cunt anymore or arranging my schedule around her—she’s already done her damage and ruined me with everyone knowing how I like to fuck and what I’ve done. So she doesn’t have anything over me, and considering what I’ve got on her, what she’s done, she’s lucky I didn’t send her fucking ass up to Sing Sing or more fitting, Bedlam? And then she calls and dares threaten me for more money—fuck her. I’m done. I don’t ever want to hear or see her skanky fucking ass ever again. You fucking deal with it.” He then hung up, throwing the phone on the couch, closing his eyes, taking a deep calming breath, and running his hand through his hair, resting them on top of his head. “Ohmigod-Ohmigod-Ohmigod…”
He opened his eyes and then looked over into the kitchen when he saw movement. His heart instantly calmed, shocked by the contrast between his ex-wife, Christy, and what he was looking at and had now. His ex-wife was on one of her crazy tangents wanting more money, threatening him with ‘exposure’ if he didn’t give her what she wanted. She couldn’t expose him more than she already did—telling everyone how he like it ‘rough’ and what he was into, the kinks and desire for BDSM. She was all that was black, crazy, dark, and miserable and looking over at Adriaunn now, standing in the kitchen in his robe, smiling over at him, she was the complete opposite; all that was light, beautiful, sweet, kind and loving, happy.
She poured herself the last of the wine, picking up her glass and then shaking out her hair as she stepped down into the front room, walking toward him. He lowered his hands from his head and placed them in his pocket. He tensed as she slid an arm around his waist and back, leaning against him, and settling her head against his chest.
“Sebastian…I’m sorry if I seemed so down on you earlier. I didn’t mean to be–I mean, not at you personally. I was just…talking about what I’ve witnessed so far and…wish for you to have a better life and enjoy it more. But anyway, ah…look, if you need to get back, I completely understand. Please don’t stay on my account. It’s been a wonderful day, even if…I slept through most of it. I feel awful about that, but it was time you needed anyway and I needed the sleep. It was heaven.”
“I’m not considering this our first date.”
“I am,” she replied, looking up at him and pressing a kiss on his hard jaw. “I’ve had a wonderful time just driving here and seeing all this. It was nice and you fixed me dinner, which was really wonderful. I hope you have a recipe for it.”
“Internet, and it’s the easiest recipe on earth, but I’ll email it to you.”
“I don’t have an email.”
“Then I’ll text it to you.”
“Okay. But if you have to go, I understand. I really do. I won’t tell anyone about it, that it’s here and I promise to keep it to myself. I mean, you have chicks actually…trying to blackmail money out of you, if that’s…what I heard correctly.”
“My ex-wife and she’s always trying to do something or pulling some kind of shit. Constantly. It’s never…e-fucking-nough with her. I don’t know why she can’t just go off and live her life, leaving out of mine. Be glad yours remarried and all. The difference between the two of you–between any of the women I know in this world, is just…” He couldn’t even think of the words, shaking his head and reaching up, touching her arms. She drew back, uncomfortable with his praises; she was not a girl who liked compliments—but he knew it was because it wasn’t necessary. She didn’t need to be adored, admired, and glorified, needing constant attention. Every girl likes to get a compliment, even Adri, naturally, but…Adri didn’t have to have them in order to mentally survive and keep from falling apart. Her self-esteem didn’t rely on them.
Adri took his hand and pointed down to the floor. “Go on. Sit on the floor,” she ordered and he glanced back at her with a crooked brow. “Just do it. Trust me.”
“Ookay,” he said, sitting down on the floor as she went into the kitchen. She grabbed the wine bottle and came back, pouring them both another glass before she sat down crossed-legged on the couch. She grabbed his arm and made him put his back to her.
“You’re on a date, with me, and it should be relaxing and fun. Enjoyable.”
“I had fun. A lot of fun, especially a bit ago when I put you to bed.”
She instantly ignored that. “Well, now it’s time for you to relax,” she stated softly into his ear and ran her thumb up the back of his neck. “I’m no professional, but it’s still going to feel good and drink more wine, that will also help.”
Wine. Yes, that is what I really need—so I definitely relax and…would have an easier time fighting my lust and keeping my cock from getting up. He bent his legs and rested his arms out on his knees, dropping his head forward and enjoying her ministrations. It did feel good, using just the right amount of pressure, going back and forth from thumb to thumb, her fingers worked over the muscles in his neck and shoulder blades against his spine. He let her keep massaging his back and neck until he felt her stop and pop her fingers. He turned to face her and scooted back. “Thank you; that did feel good.”
“Better? At least a little?”
“Yes,” he answered and looked as she shifted on the couch and stretched out, but she was all lady-like, keeping her legs together and his robe pushed down over her legs. He got her wine glass and handed it to her, picking his own back up and staring down into the light yellow liquid. They sat there quietly for a long moment and he felt her eyes raise and lower a couple of times on him.
“Sebastian? Are you really into…that BDSM, super…naughty…and rough stuff?” She held her breath as he froze, his head remaining down as his eyes lifted up to her, she watched his tongue–his beautiful, skillful, naughty tongue–run across his upper teeth and lip. She suddenly felt shy under his long gaze, but she wanted to know. “Have you…ah…Do you…”
He took a deep breath, looking down and drinking his wine, then looking back up at her and answering. “And if I said I did? Would it disgust you? Or intrigue you?”
Her eyes instantly widened at the questions—obviously intrigue being the answer. “I’ve never thought about it—like…ever, until now.”
“What makes you think that I am?”
“I left you with quite a…wonderful…enlightening painting of people tied up and in ecstasy, being taken and loving their captors’ dominance over them,” she replied, not going to insult him by calling it a horrid, nasty, sick thing—calling him all that in doing so. He smiled up at her, knowing she was humoring him and that she didn’t like it. He looked back down into his glass before finishing it off. “Well? Are you?...And if so, what is it like? Tell me. I want to know. How do you like it Sebastian? Really naughty? Like rough-hard-brutal-whipping-spanking-nasty-kinky-twisted–”
“Yes!” he nearly shouted out and repeated his answer softly. “Yes, to all of the above–all of it. I like it hard, brutal, and nasty. I like slutty, filthy…dirty little whores, but only when I fuck. When you’re in The Room with me, the lady stops at the door, and I like them nasty, to the extreme. That’s how I like it, and my women all like it the same, are willing to be my filthy little fuck-slut who lets me do whatever the hell I want to them. When you are with me, Adriaunn, your body is mine. Every inch of you belongs to me, to use however I want and to claim your own pleasure for myself. To bring you pleasure like you’ve never known and own it—own you,” he replied, setting his wine glass on the table. He came up off the floor and got on the couch, pushing her leg up, but when he tried to push it open, she drew it down.
“I’ve already seen you, touched you and tasted you. You want to know what I like, to tell you, but
I can show you better and without putting my dick in you. What I like…what turns me on?...is unconditional trust. Trust, in such a lifestyle is an absolute. You’re all tense and afraid for nothing, Adri. I couldn’t fuck you tonight if I wanted to—not in this mood and we’ve had too much wine. So, relax, you can trust me,” he told her.
She sat there tense, staring at him; her arms bent up over her chest, but then slowly started to ease back down until she relaxed. He reached up to the ties on his robe, jerking them loose and opening the robe, watching her drop her arms down by her head, keeping her eyes on him. He decided against touching her any further and just grabbed her legs, jerking her back down closer to him, her sweet round bottom resting against his thigh and her legs over his.
“This is the real me, Adriaunn, what I like, what I will expect, and what I will take. I’m a Dom…in the extreme, and you will do exactly…as you are doing now, trusting me. You’ll open to me, give all of yourself to me, and not ever fight me; you’ll always give me what I want. There will never be a moment, not one second that you’ll regret trusting me and giving me a chance to show you what I know.