Which, until its tragic end, had been pretty damned near perfect, as far as he was concerned. With one, what he had started out thinking was small, exception that ended up being a very big one.
“Put me down, Cal! What are you, out of your mind?” Ellie fairly screeched at her boyfriend, Cal, who had lifted her not into his arms, as would have been nicely romantic, but rather he’d flung over his shoulder, so that her butt faced front; her long hair cascading down his back and into her face, rendered her largely blind as well as helpless against his strength. Especially when she did the only thing that she could do in that situation, and began to kick her legs – and his big, broad palm landed on her bottom with a resounding smack.
“Yeow! Stop that! Put me down!”
“You’re issuing quite a few orders for someone so small who’s supposedly a submissive.”
If her face weren’t already flaming red, it would have been after that, especially since she guessed that he had a point. Since he had discovered – guessed, more so than anything else – her secret, he had been gently teasing and testing her about it. Ellie guessed that she was failing this one with flying colors. “McCallum Forsythe Jennings! Do as you’re told and put me the fuck down!”
All she got for her efforts were more swats, but then she was still kicking, too, as well as issuing even more invectives against him and his ancestry for quite a few years back.
By the time he did put her down – over the back of his couch in his apartment, where she’d flatly refused to walk, which was what had prompted him to carry her in there in the first place – her bottom was already quite sore. But he didn’t seem to worry about that in the least as he held her in place with frightening ease simply by putting one of those platter sized hands on the small of her back.
“CAL!” she squealed, the sound delightful – if slightly painful – to his ears. She was always so blasted self-possessed, so smart and articulate and put together – which was one of the reasons he’d been drawn to her in the first place – that he just wanted to see her put off kilter a bit. And he knew just the method of achieving it – one that she, herself, had confessed a while ago, as he was gently probing into what she found arousing about submission as well as other things that she found very intriguing.
One that he found at least as interesting as she did – probably much more, because he’d bet he’d had much more experience at it than she did. The more he got to know her, the more he wanted her. She was a heady combination of dirty innocence that got him harder than he’d ever been in his life.
She was a virgin, at twenty-five, and she’d confessed as much to him on their first date, upfront, before the appetizers came, guaranteeing that he spent the rest of the date adjusting himself occasionally, hopefully unobtrusively, trying to find room for his erection in his tight jeans.
She’d also told him that, if it bothered him that she wasn’t going to sleep with him on that date, or any other date, until – or if, she’d said very pointedly – she began to feel comfortable with him, and preferably develop some feelings for him, then they could both go home right now. She didn’t intend to throw her first experience away, she’d said, on someone who wouldn’t appreciate that she’d valued herself enough, knew herself well enough, to wait for the right person.
He’d leaned forward and raised an eyebrow at her, then leaned back so that the waitress could put their chili cheese fries on the table between them. He hadn’t answered her immediately, asking instead, “And how many times have you been left high and dry in a restaurant because the guy wasn’t willing to wait?”
Ellie had smiled wryly and sighed, but she didn’t seem at all put out about it – more philosophical, if anything. “More times than I would like to think. The fact that I won’t put out on the first date is probably why I’m still a virgin.” She shrugged. “Their loss.”
He was inclined to agree, giving her a thorough once over. She was just this side of chubby – not really fat, just possessing curves that had his palms itching to explore them. He liked a girl who bucked the trends – especially the one to be rail thin – who knew herself well enough to stick to her guns about something – especially something as hard to resist as sex. But then, she really didn’t know what she was missing – literally.
Cal took a fry from the basket and eyed her thoughtfully. “I’m still here.”
“Well, that’s refreshing. But are you just planning to wrestle me in the car later, hoping to change my mind?”
Jealousy flared in a way it never had before for him, and guilt wasn’t that far behind it, because he’d been that guy, trying to get a girl to acquiesce to what he wanted. He’d never felt ashamed about it, until now. The idea that she’d had to physically fight off guys who, as he had, only had one thing on their mind, nearly made him physically ill, and had him asking her something he’d never considered asking anyone else.
“No, I can promise you that I will not do that to you. But I do want something else from you.”
She looked understandably wary. “What?”
“I know that this is our first date,” he said, taking her hand in his, “and I’m on board with waiting until you feel comfortable taking it to the next level. But I want to be the only guy you date.”
He could see that she was surprised by what he’d asked. “And I’d be the only girl you’d date?”
“Yes.” He’d amazed himself by agreeing quickly, but he’d meant it. He made it a point not to say things he didn’t mean.
She considered him for a long moment, and he relaxed back into his chair, despite the fact that he didn’t think anyone had ever given him quite that thorough a going over. He wasn’t used to such close perusal. He had grown up privileged, and made friends relatively easily, without trying very hard to. Women were drawn to him for some reason he really didn’t question much, but he’d never met one to whom he was willing to make that kind of a commitment.
There was something about her that drew him to her – something that he couldn’t put his finger on, until they had been talking several dates later. He had promised her that he wouldn’t make her have to struggle with him every night about whether or not they were going to have sex, but he hadn’t promised her that he was going to be a monk around her, either. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stick to that, so he would never have made that bargain.
He had surprised her at the end of their first date by asking her out every night of the coming week, and she had laughed, explaining that she had a new job teaching and that she would be spending her evenings making lesson plans and correcting homework.
He got her to agree to see him on Wednesday nights, as well as Friday and Saturday nights, and he made sure that she spent as much of that time in his arms as he could, or at least being touched by him in some way or other, even if it was just holding hands.
On one particularly intimate night, not long after that first date, when they had decided to eat in, he had held her on his lap – where he pretty much insisted she belonged – as they listened to music.
“So, are you afraid of sex?” he asked, leaning back from a passionate kiss that she had quite been enjoying.
She tried to sit up more in his arms but he wouldn’t let her.
“No, you stay right there and answer my question, young lady,” he said, very deliberately.
She squirmed. There was no missing it, she had squirmed, either at his slightly scolding tone or his carefully chosen words – either way it didn’t really matter to him. They went hand in hand, as far as he was concerned.
Ellie looked at him a bit warily and answered, “No, I’m not afraid of it, I just think it’s something really intimate, and not something I want to share with someone I’ve only known for two hours.”
Cal nodded. “I can understand that. But, just because we’re not going to have sex doesn’t mean that I’m not going to touch you.”
He saw her catch her lip between her teeth.
“Problem?”
“No, not
for me. I’d love for you to touch me.”
His hips rocked up at that, lifting her a bit. “Good. Because I intend to.”
“But what about—” she stopped, mid-sentence, as his hand cupped her jaw.
“What?”
“You? Can I touch you?”
He chuckled. “Of course you can.”
“And it won’t... hurt you? That we’re… that we—”
Cal lifted her eyes to his. “I already want you. Badly. Do I seem hurt to you? I ache with it, Ellie, and if the next words out of your mouth were ‘make love to me, Cal’ I’d be on top of you in a second. But I’m not controlled by my hormones, and delayed gratification will only make things better.” He kissed her with exquisite gentleness. “And the men who couldn’t see that, couldn’t see how special you are, didn’t deserve to have you anyway.”
Ellie blushed prettily. “I’m sorry to be such a ninny, but I grew up with sisters, and I was buried in my books for most of high school and college, and I don’t know much about men.”
“Have you masturbated?”
He’d never seen anyone turn quite that shade of red before, but he refused to laugh at her.
“Um...” She seemed extremely reluctant to answer him.
“If we’re eventually going to be lovers, then I want to know things like that about you. I want to know what you thought about when you made yourself cum. I want to know what turns you on. Do you watch porn at all? If so, what kind?”
She struggled a little in his arms, but he held her close, not hurting her, but also not letting her go. “So?” he asked expectantly.
“I... uh... I have masturbated, yes.”
“What were you thinking of at the time? Or who?”
“No one in specific, really.”
“Is there a scene you run through your head while you touch yourself with those beautiful little fingers?”
“Scenes,” she confessed to her own lap.
“Such as?”
She looked and sounded truly distressed, hiding her face in her hands. “Oh dear God, I can’t tell you that!”
Charmed rather than peeved at her reaction, Cal pried her hands away from her face. “Of course you can. When I masturbate, I often think about having two women in bed with me. That’s a very common male fantasy.” That was the tamest amongst the ones he used frequently, but she didn’t need to know that quite yet.
Or perhaps she did.
“What’s one of your fantasies, Elise? Tell me.” Cal tipped her chin up so that she could no longer hide her eyes from him and used the same tone as he had before when she’d squirmed.
“I think mine are... um... too... unusual.”
His eyebrows went up. “By unusual do you mean kinky?”
She would have put her head down if he had let her, but he didn’t. “Yes, I suppose, although I’m not overly fond of that word.”
“And what do they involve?” How could she possibly be that unaware of just how aroused he was? Was she truly that innocent? And would someone who was that innocent have kinky fantasies?
Knowing she was pretty well trapped, she instead buried her face against his neck, and he felt at once entirely aroused and distinctly protective, somehow.
But he wasn’t going to let her not answer him, either. “Ellie.” He imbued her name with as much sternness as he could.
And he had his answer in her eyes when her head shot up and he saw her swallow hard just before she lowered her eyes. “You’re a submissive,” he breathed, hardly able to believe his luck.
“I am not!” She frowned fiercely.
“No?” he asked. “So if I tell you that, at some point shortly, I’m going to find a reason to spank you, you’re not going to be wet when I check afterwards?”
“Check? Afterwards?” Ellie was trying to come to grips with the idea that she might just have found a guy who was actually interested in spanking her, but when he mentioned checking her afterwards, she knew she was doomed.
He kissed her once, a quick kiss. “Yes.” Another kiss, less quick. “Check.” A longer, much more involved kiss. “Afterwards.”
And then he stopped her heart completely by saying, “And if I find that you are wet, then I will also know that you lied to me today. And you’ll have earned another, much more severe punishment.”
Chapter 5
Now, the first time she was in his apartment – having put him off because she hadn’t really dealt with the idea that he was as rich as he was – she wasn’t on his lap having a snuggle. She wasn’t being given a tour of his place. She was on her tummy over the back of his couch.
And he was just reaching for the hem of her skirt when her phone rang.
Her purse had ended up on his easy chair and she got down.
“I didn’t tell you that you could do that,” he said pointedly.
Ellie had rounded on him like a mother tigress. “Look. I like you a lot, and I think we’re probably very compatible in a lot of important ways. You’re pretty much exactly what I’ve been looking for in a man.”
He hadn’t expected to hear that from her this evening, but it was great to know.
“And I might be a submissive, and I might be on the way to becoming your submissive, but if I do, I will still have a life. By that I mean I have friends and family who all text me or message me on Facebook or email me. But when someone actually calls me, then I know it’s a problem or some kind of emergency.”
He gave her a little bow with his head. Things like this were exactly what they needed to work out, and he was actually glad to see that she was willing to stand up to him. Hell, he’d had people who had worked for him for years who wouldn’t have said what she’d said to him.
And he did his best not to listen to her conversation, but it was damned near impossible. Someone was in serious distress, and she was on the phone for about a half an hour, consoling them about something.
He tried not to listen, but there was no mistaking the name she said at the end.
“Carter, give it some time. Really. You just need to be patient.”
Finally she rang off, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “Carter?”
And damned if she didn’t look guilty as sin. “Yes.”
“My brother, Carter?”
“Yes.”
He stood up and crossed to her, lifting her out of her seat and setting her down on her feet to tilt her chin up, staring down into her eyes with intense seriousness. “You’re seeing my brother?”
She flushed, and he took it as a sign of guilt, frankly. “Not seeing him, no, but he’s always been a friend of mine – an acquaintance, and we’ve gotten closer lately.”
“Since we’ve gotten closer?”
“I don’t think I’ve noticed a correlation.”
His grip on her chin tightened just a bit. “You remember what you promised me?”
“Yes, and I am not dating your brother!”
She said it with such conviction that he was inclined to believe her. Besides, he simply made a mental note to have a chat with his brother ASAP.
“So, where were we, young lady?” he asked, and her blush brightened even further. “I believe you were over the back of my couch, weren’t you? Like so?” He put her right back into the position she’d been in before his brother had sort of saved her from “worse than death.”
“Cal?”
Her voice was soft and plaintive, and he liked that.
“Yes, honey?”
Ellie could feel his hand on the small of her back – which she had told him previously was an erogenous zone for her.
“I know this might be considered – perhaps, topping from the bottom, but can I say something?”
“Of course. As I’ve been saying, communication is key. I don’t want you to ever feel there’s something you can’t say to me, whether you think I’ll like it, or whether or not you think you ‘should’. I want you, and I like you, and I think you’re kickass. I want you to be a kickass submissive. And I want
you to be confident in me, that I’m not going to be petty or stupid with you in my care, like I’m going to take it out on you if you should dare to say something I might disagree with.”
She didn’t think she’d ever get used to his compliments. They weren’t too frequent, which would make her suspicious of just how genuine they were. But they were almost always for things that she’d never thought of herself as being good at before.
And she was entirely – already – in love with the way he thought, like every single thing he’d just said.
“Of course it’s up to you, you know best, but I would feel more comfortable if I was over your lap this... first time.”
She was facing her first spanking tonight because they’d had a bit of an argument – although certainly not the screaming and shouting kind as neither of them was like that anyway, but there was a definite difference of opinion about just who was going to pay for dinner.
There was no way she wasn’t aware of who he was. The Jennings name was on everything all over town; his family money went back to the late nineteenth century, when his great-great-grandfather had discovered oil on their land.
She had grown up in this town, and had always been aware of the Jennings family. She’d interned at their corporation one semester when she was trying to decide between getting a degree in business or one in education, and that was where she had met his brother and they had become good friends.
But she balked at the idea that, just because Cal had money, he had to pay for everything they did. It didn’t seem somehow equitable to her that he was always the one shelling out constantly.
To Love a Man Page 5