Wanting Wilder (Safe Word: Oasis)
Page 15
Typical of a Friday night, Elmhurst was crowded, but not every seat was taken. Lydia had asked for the night off. While he’d anticipated that the ladies would join them sooner or later—they always did—he hadn’t meant to make Lydia feel uncomfortable.
“You didn’t put gymnastics experience on your application.” Micah lifted his beer in a toast. “Impressive.”
Lydia leaned forward, her lips pressed tightly together. It looked like that finger was going to come out again. He’d have to talk to her about expressing anger. Poking a Dom was never a good idea.
Wilder grabbed her hands before she could do any damage and put them back in her lap. “Ever and Micah are going to sing pretty soon. If you wait a few minutes, you can sit in Ever’s spot.”
He wasn’t going to express regret for the move or ask Ever to deliver an insincere apology. If she wanted to hang around Doms, she had to accept the way they played. If she were simply a friend, Ever would never have taken the liberty. But because his brother knew Wilder wanted more from Lydia, he’d do everything he could to make it happen.
She turned back to face him, twisting her body so that her breasts strained against her shirt. Her mouth turned down uncertainly. “I can get a chair if you want.”
“You’re fine where you are.” He signaled for the waiter to bring Lydia a drink. When he set his hand back down, he casually parked it on her knee. While she didn’t lean back into his chest, she didn’t stiffen or pull away.
Ever elbowed him in the arm and flashed a “you’re welcome” grin.
As if on cue, Lloyd took the stage. He’d owned the pub for as long as Wilder could remember, and the man had looked ancient for exactly the same amount of time. Nobody knew how old Lloyd was, and everybody knew better than to ask.
He grinned, showing off his new dentures. “Welcome to Elmhurst, everybody. It’s Friday night, so that means karaoke. First on the list, we got Eva and Sara.”
The audience clapped. Eva shot a nasty look at Jude.
Sara got up, but she bent down to hiss in Jude’s ear. “I’ll get you for this, Strawberry Ice.”
Lydia looked among the faces of the trio nervously, so Wilder sat up straight, which put his chest against her back, and murmured an explanation. “Everybody signs up somebody else to sing. Don’t be surprised to find your name on the list tonight.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. Her lips were so close to his ear that he imagined her taking his lobe between her teeth for a nibble, and his jeans grew a little snug in the crotch.
“Why does she call him Strawberry Ice?”
Wilder laughed at the nickname. “A few years ago, Jude got drunk and passed out at Sara’s apartment. He’d said something to piss her off beforehand, so when he was asleep, she shaved two stripes in his eyebrow.”
He watched as she looked at Jude, clearly trying to imagine him with his facial hair manscaped like the ’90s rapper. It had been funny at the time. Jude objected to the nickname, which only drove Sara to use it more.
“She took a picture.”
Lydia nodded. If she was going to say anything, the strains of music coming from the speakers silenced her. She gave her attention to Eva and Sara as they sang an iffy rendition of a Guns N’ Roses classic. If their vocals were suspect, the spot-on choreography made up for it.
When Lydia’s turn came up—no surprise that someone had signed him up to sing with her—she proved to be a good sport about it. She took his hand and dragged him to the stage. The list of suspects who might have chosen the cheesy ’80s love song was long, so Wilder didn’t bother accusing anybody. Lydia turned out to have a surprisingly pleasant singing voice.
By the end of the night, Sara had brought over another chair so that Lydia no longer had to sit on his lap. He mourned the loss, but the way Lydia smiled as she laughed and conversed more than made up for it.
He’d known all along that his family and friends would love her.
Chapter Nine
Wilder stared at the information in front of him and argued with himself. It was Tuesday morning. Lydia had been with him for over a week. He should be thinking about the two women whose fantasies were spread on his desk, souls bared in confidence with the hope he could do something to make their deepest wishes come true. He needed to run background checks. He needed to book a flight to Minneapolis-St. Paul to do the legwork that would make sure Oasis had all the information necessary to construct this fantasy.
Instead, images of Lydia occupied all available space in his mind. Last Friday, Isla had shuffled the task of taking Lydia home to Wilder. Lydia had drunk a few too many beers, and she’d giggled the entire way back to her apartment. Because he’d given her the night off, he hadn’t planned to stay the night, but when she’d cocked her head to the side and asked him where he was going as she lost her balance, he had come inside and put her to bed. It had seemed silly to leave.
Every night for the past week, he’d tied her up. Each time, the scent of her arousal drove him insane with the need to rip off her panties and lick her until she screamed out her release. He’d taken to standing out of her line of sight so she couldn’t see the way his cock responded to the vision she presented, bound and helpless, swinging from his one portable suspension rig. He had several permanent rigs at his house, and he desperately wanted to see her in each of them.
Thinking about it make his cock swell, pressing against his pants uncomfortably. He didn’t bother to shift it, hoping instead the pain would counteract his desire.
It didn’t work.
She’d been wonderful. Every morning, she outdid herself with breakfast, especially that one hash dish she made that he’d taken to requesting, and she basked in his enjoyment of her cooking. They talked for hours every day. She had transitioned seamlessly into the Oasis staff, charming one and all with her poise and professionalism. On Saturday, he’d surprised her with boots and had taken her hiking, and they had found yet another thing they both enjoyed doing.
He needed to complete the forms to close out the wish. He needed to release her from being his pet, yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. While he didn’t want her as his pet—he wanted her as his submissive—the idea of saying the words to end their association sucker-punched him in the stomach.
What if she didn’t want to see him anymore?
Tilting his neck back to rest his head against the top of his chair, he sighed and forced himself to man up. It was time for the wish to end. This wasn’t fair to Lydia, and he had to put her first. Indulging in selfish needs was never good for anyone. He had to end it.
Ignoring the hot lesbian wishes in front of him that would normally command his full attention, he turned to his computer, opened the file with her information, and typed in his report. He’d give it to her tonight. He’d give her a day or two away from him to examine her feelings, and then he’d ask her out.
* * * *
8 years earlier
Wilder woke up rock hard, which was impressive given that he’d fucked Lydia well into the early-morning hours. They’d spent the entire day before together. He’d held her hand as they walked barefoot in the surf and talked about anything and everything. He’d hung out with her friend, Brigit, whom he wasn’t sure he liked. She definitely didn’t appreciate his presence. Though she wasn’t openly hostile, she had drawn Lydia away from him several times. They had argued, hugged, and returned to where he waited. He wanted to ask her about the disagreements, but he reasoned that he should wait. She’d tell him later, when her friend wasn’t around.
Her backside curved against his stomach, a soft reminder of exactly how wonderful she felt in his arms. With her delicious heat so close, his cock had responded before he’d gained consciousness.
Lazily he reached behind him. He’d deposited several condoms on the top corner of the bed. If there was one left, he wouldn’t have to peel himself away from her to fish one from his pack. Groping carefully produced one, and he opened it up and rolled it into place.
She pushed back against him, but she didn’t open her eyes. He rocked into her a little more and parted the lips of her pussy with his fingers. She whimpered when he found her clit. He played there, rubbing and plucking until she canted her hips and moaned.
Then he buried his cock deep inside her vagina, her warmth enveloping him completely. He thrust lazily, embracing the lethargic haziness that permeated his brain in early morning. She felt so good, warm and wet and utterly compliant. She put her hand over his, urging him to press harder against her clit. That was the first time he’d ever let a submissive guide him, and he found he liked it. She didn’t assume control; she merely helped him deliver what she needed. Her hot sheath clamped harder as she met his thrusts, nearly robbing him of control.
The noises she made grew louder, and he felt the first flutters of her impending climax. When his balls drew up, he rubbed her clit a little harder and faster, and he bit the back of her neck where it met her shoulder.
She arched her back, giving him both her neck and her pussy, and she cried out her orgasm with short, sharp moans. The feel of her hot walls convulsing was too much to bear, and he joined her in ecstasy.
He stopped thrusting while he was buried to the hilt, and he drew his hand away from her clit to hold her tight to his body. She reached back and ran her hand up his cheek and into his hair in a soft caress. In that moment, he knew for certain that he’d found the woman he wanted to have by his side every single morning.
Lydia sighed and wiggled her bottom against him. “It’s almost noon. I promised Brigit we’d go to lunch and hang out this afternoon, just the two of us. Will you shower with me before I go?”
He didn’t want her to leave, but he knew why she didn’t invite him along. That was the deal she’d made to placate Brigit. Lydia had explained that Brigit was feeling neglected. The two of them had planned this trip together as friends, and Lydia wasn’t usually the kind of person who ditched her buddy. Even though Micah had disappeared with some woman, Wilder could appreciate her loyalty. Guys had a slightly different code of ethics.
He’d call Micah to see if he was going to be around. If not, he’d get some sleep and spend some time creating a scene for Lydia. She had mentioned wanting to do more with bondage. So far, he’d only really restrained her. He hadn’t shown her the rigging talents he possessed.
“I’m not going to turn down a chance to see you naked and wet.” He kissed her warm neck at the place where her pulse beat. He’d discovered that erogenous zone early on.
She moaned, a low, appreciative sound. “Okay. Give me ten minutes to do girl stuff, and then join me.”
There was no way he could wait that long. “Five minutes.”
She leaped from bed. Minutes later, he heard the water in the shower running, and he smiled as he snagged another condom and followed her into the bathroom.
The shower curtain was ivory and not transparent, so he pulled one side open. She’d piled her hair on top of her head in a precarious knot. He liked the way it looked pulled back to reveal her entire face. She slid the small rectangle of soap between her breasts and flashed an inviting grin. He stepped into the shower and took the white bar away from her. The warm water beat against his back.
“I’ll wash you.” He lathered soap in his hands and ran them all over her body. She squeaked when he parted her butt cheeks and tried to wiggle away, but he banded his arm around her waist and held her still. “Every part of you belongs to me.”
She stopped her escape attempt, accepting his touch quicker than he thought she would. “Just don’t get my hair wet. I didn’t bring anything for it.”
He planted a light kiss on her throat and gathered more soap on his hands. Then he took his time washing her breasts and stomach. He brought the showerhead around to rinse her skin. Then he slid the soap back into her hand. “Your turn to wash me.”
She stared at the slippery bar as if he’d given her a diamond bracelet. Then she turned around in his arms and urged him back, putting some distance between them. As he thought she might, she cleansed him at a leisurely pace, leaving no part of his body untouched. If he’d brought his razor into the shower, he knew she would have shaved him.
When she rinsed him, she ran her hand over his skin, chasing away the suds. She spent an extra long time on his cock, teasing a part of him that had been ready to claim her since the moment of her first soapy touch. He took the showerhead from her, which she readily surrendered, but she didn’t ease her grip on his cock. She stroked him slowly, and he knew she wouldn’t take things further until he gave permission.
He let her play for a little while; then he broke her hold and pushed her back against the wall. Reaching to the counter outside the shower, he found the condom. Lydia’s chest heaved as she waited for him to put it on, and she clutched his arms to keep from slipping. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t let her go anywhere.
Lifting her, he guided her legs around his waist. He balanced her against the wall as he reached between them and positioned his cock at her entrance. “Hang on tightly, slave. Your Master is going to reward you for a job well done.”
Her pussy flexed at his pronouncement. He cupped her ass and pounded into her. She tried to match his pace, but she had no leverage, no choice but to let him have his way with her. All too soon, that tight sheath contracted, and she shouted her climax loud enough for the entire floor to hear.
A half hour later, he kissed her good-bye at the door. He wanted to drive her back to her hotel, but Brigit had come to pick her up.
“Can I see you for dinner? Something romantic, just the two of us.” And then she’d spend the night with him, tied up in ways she couldn’t imagine. She agreed, and he named the place and time.
As the car pulled away, he realized a couple of things. First, he was certain that his mother had sent him here to meet his soul mate, and he had definitely done that. Second, he didn’t know her last name or her phone number.
When his cell rang an hour later, he recognized his mother’s ringtone. She was likely calling to gloat. He answered it, anxious to tell her all about the wonderful woman he’d met and how much his family was going to love her.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
The voice on the other end had little in common with the strong lightheartedness he was used to hearing. She sobbed, her voice thick with tension and worry. “Wild, you have to come home right now. They’ve taken your father to prep for surgery. He’s had a massive heart attack. I’ve never seen him look like this.”
His mother’s stark terror seized Wilder’s heart, and he felt like he was having an attack too. His father was a moderately fit man, though he didn’t exactly eat healthy foods. Even so, Wilder hadn’t seen this coming. “I’m on my way.”
He called Micah and changed their tickets to the next available flight. Micah was almost family, and he wouldn’t want to stay in Florida when the man who was his second father was in such serious danger.
On the way to the airport, they stopped by Lydia’s hotel. From the parking lot, he could see the door was closed. Most of the doors of partying spring breakers were open. People wandered from one room to the other, laughing and touching, kissing and joking.
She’d said they were going shopping and to lunch. Given how little time had elapsed, he figured she wasn’t back yet.
“Write a note. Slide it under the door.” Micah rarely affected a demeanor this serious. That role was usually reserved for Wilder.
He found nothing in the rental car to use, so he bolted up the stairs and knocked on one of the open doors near Lydia’s room. A woman sat on a man’s lap. Both wore only bathing suits. They looked up, puzzled at his intrusion. “Can I have a shee
t of hotel stationery and a pen?”
She nodded to a nearby desk. Wilder wrote his note and slipped it under her door. Lydia, Family emergency. Had to go home. Please call. Wild
He scratched out the digits of his phone number and prayed she would understand. And then he prayed for his father.
* * * *
Present day
Just as he made it to the last item on the list, basically a paragraph indicating Lydia was ready to assume her full responsibilities at Oasis, Micah came into his office and closed the door. He sat in the chair Lydia had vacated and waited for him to finish.
Wilder didn’t want to hurry, so he closed his laptop and faced his friend. Micah’s brown eyes were dark and somber, and his lips were pursed in a frown. That didn’t bode well.
“What’s wrong?”
Micah shook his head. “I just wondered how things were going with Lydia. I haven’t seen you around all that much, and she’s always busy.”
Since Micah was the one who had scouted Lydia as a candidate for the wish coordinator position and put together her wish, Wilder could see how he would feel responsible for her well-being. He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Fine. I’m getting ready to close out her wish. She’s settled in okay.”
“And after that?” Micah nailed him with a challenging stare, one that demanded answers.
Wilder was used to Micah expressing an interest in his personal life. They were friends. But he wasn’t used to an attitude that almost bordered on hostility. He took his time to formulate an answer.
“I’ve seen how you behave around her. Don’t try to pretend she doesn’t mean more to you than just an assignment.” Micah growled. His fingertips flexed where he rested them against his thighs.