by Ophelia Bell
He frowns and shakes his head. “I texted. Figured it was safer to bullshit them if I didn’t have to talk, you know? But I told them since it was your birthday, I talked you into extending the trip a couple days at a fancy adults-only spa resort. It’s pretty close to the truth. They bought it, at any rate. Meanwhile, let’s enjoy the day, huh? Now make a wish.” He produces a lighter from his pocket and lights the solitary candle on top of the cake.
“Sam . . .” I shake my head, unable to stop smiling. He sits down again and smiles back, glancing between me and the lit candle. I laugh, then close my eyes, formulating the perfect wish for a birthday I’d intended to let pass by without a thought.
I wish to never take this man for granted again.
Then I blow.
“Cake first or food?” Sam asks, one eyebrow lifted.
“As tempting as it is, I’m starving enough to want real sustenance. Pass me those chilaquiles.”
He hands me the warm dish, then rises and pours us each bubbling mimosas, handing me one. “To the birthday girl.”
We toast and drink, and I hum as I swallow some of the bubbly orange refreshment before digging into my food.
“I’m guessing you didn’t make all this. It had to take some planning.”
“What do you think I was doing while I waited for you to get here yesterday?”
“I had no idea you were such a schemer. But I suppose now that I know you had your eye on me for more than a decade, I should expect it. Any other schemes I should be aware of? I’m expecting full disclosure now that I’ve decided to keep you.”
His cheeks turn pink, but his eyes have a wicked glint as he clears his throat and downs the rest of his mimosa. “Today’s all about you, but I’m hoping to try out some of the more unique amenities this place has to offer, if you’re game.”
I chew slowly and swallow. “Does this have anything to do with the unlimited supply of condoms in the bedroom?” I point my fork in that direction.
Sam lifts his gaze and licks his lips. I almost wish I had a window into his head so I could see what kinds of filthy fantasies he’s had of me over the years. My core heats with the idea of fulfilling some of them today.
“Did you happen to see the big cabinet in the bathroom?”
“I did. I’m guessing it doesn’t contain more towels.”
“Not exactly. It’s kind of a toy box.”
My eyebrows shoot up and I open my mouth, unable to speak for a moment. Finally I set down my fork and stand.
“Show me.”
36
Sam
When I open the cabinet in the bathroom, Toni just stands and stares, open-mouthed. I clear my throat. “I was thinking you could pick a couple you like and we could use them.”
“Uh huh . . .” she says, as if her ability to speak has departed at the prospect of a day filled with kinky sex—which, to be fair, is pretty close to where I am too.
She reaches in to one of the shelves, which is loaded with colorful silicone dildos in sturdy plastic packaging. Everything’s vacuum-sealed and pristine. The one she holds up has a massive shaft in swirled purple and silver with weird bumps and ridges down the sides. It’s about as alien as you can get.
She turns over the package and reads, “Axel. Oh my god, he has a name! I wonder if there’s one named Hugo.” She presses a hand against my chest and begins to methodically inspect each dildo, reading off names as she goes.
“Diego. Demon Dick. Blaze . . . Bumble Hooves! Oh my god, is this a horse dick?”
“There are other toys . . .” I point to one of the shelves that has special candles for wax play, and one that has handcuffs. On the back of the door hangs what I can only assume is a spreader bar and several floggers.
But Toni’s giggling with manic glee now as she rifles through all the exotic-looking alien dicks. I step away slowly, afraid of what I’ll be up against when she finally makes her choice.
“I’m just going to go put the food away while you decide. I’ll be back in a few.”
She barely acknowledges me, but just before I exit the bathroom, she grabs my hand and pulls me back, planting a sensuous kiss on my mouth. Then she looks up into my eyes, smiling.
“I’ll pick one, but when you get back, I want you to pick one too. This isn’t just about me. We’re in this together. Got it, partner?”
She holds my gaze with such earnest intensity I give in and nod. “Whatever you want.”
Her exclamations carry down the stairs while I put the food away, leaving the cake out under a bowl. My dick is half-hard the entire time.
I’ve been tempted to recommend taking advantage of the clothing-optional aspect of the place again, but figured we could ease into it. My wildest dreams have already come true, so I want to fulfill a few of Toni’s for a change.
When I stash the last of our breakfast in the fridge and pour two more mimosas, the phone rings, the caller ID indicating “Management” wants to speak to me.
“Yeah?” I say when I answer, heart pounding and a mix of hope and disappointment filling me. I’m eager to get home, but I also want more time with Toni in our little birthday bubble.
“Good morning, Sam,” Lena says. “I am calling to update you on the progress of your trip home. Señor Flores is arranging safe transport for the two of you to ensure you are not on any passenger manifests that Amador might be able to obtain. The trip is tentatively scheduled for tomorrow evening, shortly after sunset.”
Tomorrow night. That gives us around thirty-six hours before we have to deal with reality again.
“Can I ask how we’re getting out?”
“I can give you both more details when we meet this evening, once I’ve sorted everything out with Arturo. I only wanted you to rest easy knowing you’ll be going home soon.”
I glance up at the ceiling. Toni’s quiet, so she must have made her choice. How much time will we have to enjoy it?
“What time will you be by?”
“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to provide dinner and join the two of you for a meal. I want some time to speak with Ms. Valentine before she leaves. She’s the closest I’ve gotten to my niece since Celeste was a baby . . .” She goes silent for a second, then sighs. “It would mean a lot to me if she’s willing to meet.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Toni slip down the stairs, still wearing her fluffy bathrobe. She gives me an inquisitive look and mouths, “Who is it?”
I drop the phone to my shoulder and say, “Ms. Prieto wants to know if you’re willing to meet with her for dinner tonight. Her treat. We’ll eat here, of course.”
Her eyes widen and she nods. “Yes! I’d love to meet her.”
Lifting the phone to my ear again, I say, “Sounds like we’re on. See you tonight.”
When I hang up, I turn to find Toni staring up at me expectantly. “What did she say? How long until we can go home?”
“Tomorrow night is all she could tell me. She’ll have more information when we see her later.”
“Should I call Celeste?” she asks, her brows knitting with worry. “That’s all Amador wanted. He was prepared to keep us locked up until I convinced Celeste to meet with him. But doesn’t she still deserve a chance to make that choice? He was a big part of her mother’s life. Not that I like the idea of her or anyone I love coming within a hundred miles of that man, but it’s part of her history.”
I study her face, easily picking up on her anxiety over this decision. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I say, “Yes. She deserves to know. But I’d wait until we’re out of Mexico before you put that burden on her. I think she’ll understand why you waited.”
“But Elle . . .” Her worried gaze fixes on mine and I cup her face.
“I told you, Elle’s fine. After they found out we were taken, Flores took measures to make sure she’s protected.” She looks mollified by that, but still not exactly happy. I dip my head to kiss her, then try to distract her. “So, birthday girl, did you decide on a toy?�
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Her expression shifts and she gives me a coy smile. “Yes.”
“What’s his name?”
She snorts a laugh and smacks me lightly on the chest. “You think any of those honking monster dildos could compare to Hugo? No, I picked a different toy for me. It’s in my pocket, in fact. I took the liberty of picking one for you too, but if you don’t like it, you can find something else.”
I run my hands down her sides to the pockets of her robe, which are bulky with the items she filled them with. Reaching into one, I fish out a small container of lube first, followed by a package containing a black silicone contraption that looks like some kind of alien insect. It’s a dildo with a ring attached to the top of the base like a rifle scope. Another, smaller protrusion rests top of the ring with little rabbit ears jutting out. It’s basically three sex toys in one: two for her, one for me.
I hold it up. “I’m guessing this is for me, or is this your toy?”
“Sort of both,” she says, cheeks turning pink. “Have you ever used one?”
“A cock ring? Never had the pleasure, but I know how they work. But this . . .” I tilt my head and look at her, eyebrows raised, and point at the dildo portion. “You realize this part’s going in your ass, right?”
“I’ve had anal sex before, Sam.”
“Oh, you have, have you?” I can’t suppress a grin at that revelation. “So does Hugo get a turn after this toy?”
Her eyelids flutter and she smirks. “Hugo gets whatever Hugo wants.”
“If this thing is for me, I can’t wait to see what you picked for yourself.”
I lean down and slip my hand into the other pocket of her robe, tempted by the way she bites her lower lip. I take advantage of our proximity to brush my lips down her neck, then nip lightly at her collar bone.
She looks nervous when I lift out a pair of small, hinged boxes that look like they might contain jewelry, not something kinky.
Within the first box is a silver chain with elongated clips on either end that resemble silver tweezers, only the tips are covered in pink rubber. Each one has a small ring that moves up and down the length, causing the tips to close. The pair are joined by a chain that has a heart pendant dangling from the center. I let out a breath and look at Toni’s face when I realize what they are.
“Nipple clamps?”
Her flush deepens, extending down her chest and making all her ink stand out. “I’ve toyed with the idea of getting pierced. Thought it might be fun to do a trial run. I know piercing isn’t exactly the same.”
“Is it pain you’re after, or just sensation?” I ask, squeezing one of the clamps like little pincers.
“A little of both. Mostly I want what we do to be imprinted on my memory. I want to feel it when I’m not with you.”
I recall the way she fixated on the hickey I left on her thigh over the weekend and make a mental note to do that more often.
“This is tricky stuff. I really don’t want to hurt you, you know. But I’m game to do enough to make sure I leave a mark. Which reminds me, we need to leave enough time before dinner for your tattoo.”
Her eyes light up. “This is turning into the best birthday ever.”
Chuckling, I hold up the second box. “Except I’m the one who gets to open the presents.”
I lift the lid on that one and find more jewelry, though this item is significantly smaller. It’s like a miniature version of the nipple clamps, its design more elaborate, but still padded with rubber at the inner points I squeeze one and stick my finger between and it clamps down tight.
Saliva pools in my mouth at the thought of what she wants these for and my dick rouses. “Are these what I think they are?”
“Labia clamps,” she says, nodding.
“Are you . . .” I clear my throat and mentally will Hugo to chill. “ . . . Are you thinking of getting your labia pierced too?”
“Only if you’ll do the honors. When we get home, of course. Not here.”
I swallow and carefully put the jewelry back in the box, close it, and set it on the kitchen counter beside me. Then I turn away and open the fridge and stare into it for a second, taking inventory of its contents and hoping some of the cool air will make my hard-on go away.
“Sam?” Toni asks, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not . . . grossed-out or something, are you?”
“Ah . . . no. I may have just blown a fuse, though, so give me a sec. Not to mention if you want me to put that thing on and fuck you with it, I need to not be hard as fucking steel to start with.”
“Oh.” She lets out a soft laugh. “Sorry. I’ll wait over here until you’re ready.”
She pads away, and out of the corner of my eye I see her settle outside at our little breakfast table. The distance helps, and after another minute of concerted effort counting the eggs resting in their special holder, I close the fridge and turn.
She left the cock ring/dildo behind, along with the bottle of lube, so I drop my shorts right there. I keep my mind as analytical as possible as I tear open the package and pull out the toy.
I’m glad I don’t have to suffer an audience while I put the thing on, because it’s pretty comical trying to keep from getting hard again while I lube up my dick and slide the ring over the tip and down my length. The dildo portion rests against my balls, jutting out like a second dick.
But if my woman wants DP, who am I to argue?
Once it’s secured, I test the tiny rabbit vibrator on top. There’s a button on the side of a small sideways cylinder, and I press it. The vibrator comes to life and the little silicone ears thrum to a blur. Hugo immediately stirs, and I surrender to the flood of arousal before turning the vibrator off again. Then I head out, Hugo pointing the way and as eager to test this thing out as I am.
37
Toni
I deliberately sit facing the pool so Sam can have some privacy to do his thing. It’s difficult not to turn and check on him, though I’m half-worried he might decide I’m insane and run for the hills. I don’t think he’ll do that after everything, though, and the prospect of him being on board for all my unexplored fantasies makes my entire body tingle.
Even though we’re still effectively prisoners for another night, this place has given us both freedom we wouldn’t have had otherwise—freedom to be our true selves with each other, something I never got with my last relationship.
I glance at the half-healed tattoo on my wrist. It no longer hurts or itches despite my abuse, and the pain that compelled me to ink it in the first place is just a dim memory. My love for Manny still casts a faint shadow on my heart that may never go away, but being with Sam has let me see our relationship in a new light.
As much freedom as I had when I was with him—what with us living in different cities—I never felt so free to share what was inside me. By the time Manny and I started dating, I didn’t want to burden him with my issues, and while we were together, I never had to. I had a paid professional to unload all my shit onto, so with him I could convincingly be the tough-as-nails woman he believed was his perfect match. He knew I had something I kept from him—some deep wound that was the reason I was in therapy, and that I needed him with me on trips out of town—but he never pushed me to share what it was.
At the time, I was grateful to just feel normal. To pretend nothing was ever wrong. And it never was when we were together, so I got complacent. So complacent that when he was killed, I lost balance in a bad way, and it’s taken me this long to recover.
I am never going to let my guard down again. At least with Sam, I know I can share. He’s seen me at my worst on several occasions and has never made an issue of it. And he’s even in the process of helping me find new coping mechanisms, whether he realizes it or not.
Footsteps approach and I feign interest in the horizon, though my entire body heats. The boxes with the clamps are on the table beside me, waiting. When the door slides open, Sam steps out and I turn.
His cheeks are bright red and he
gives me the most adorable lopsided smile. “I feel like I’m wearing one of those Halloween costumes that make it look like you’re riding piggyback on someone. Which is the real Hugo?”
I drop my gaze to his groin and lift one eyebrow. His cock dwarfs the dildo by several degrees, the ring secured snugly at the base.
“There’s really no mistaking the real thing, honey. Is it comfortable at least?”
“It’s strange, but not in a bad way. Are you ready to wear your jewelry? You didn’t put it on without me, did you?”
“No. Wanted you to do the honors.” I slide the boxes toward him.
He takes the larger of the two and opens it, lifting out the clamps and letting the chain dangle. “Hop up here,” he says, patting the table.
I rise and step to the end of the table where he stands, waiting. He steps back to give me room, but remains close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off him and to take in his musky scent. I’m still in my robe, the belt tied around my waist, when I leverage myself to sit on the table, hands by my thighs.
His gray eyes are intense when he tugs the sides of the robe apart. My core gives a slow, intense throb when Sam’s eyes rest on my breasts. He raises one of the clamps in front of me.
“You let me know when the pressure is what you want, okay?”
I nod, and he looks down at my right breast and cups it in one hand. He pauses for a breath, then dips his head and captures my nipple between his lips, sucking gently. I gasp and close my eyes. Then his mouth disappears and the pressure changes, tightness pinching at my sensitive flesh, getting harder.
My eyes fly open and I stare down where he’s adjusting the clamp.
“There,” I say. “That . . . that’s good, I think.”
“You sure? I can make it tighter.”
“It’s on the edge of pain. I think that’s where I want it.”
“Good.”