SANCTUARY: Beards & Bondage

by Rebekah Weatherspoon

  “You know my brother the smooth ass sweet talker?” he says as he steps past me into the kitchen. “Well he got all the charm. He can talk his way into and out of anything, and I got the skill to actually show you what I’m made of.”

  “And? A good work ethic is pretty damn attractive. You’re still not making sense. Try again.”

  “You’re not the only person who thinks I’m a dick. Okay?”

  I feel my brows pulling together in confusion. People around the farm seem to love him. He’s still not making any sense. “For some reason I don’t buy that.”

  “Well it’s all I got for sale.” He lets out a sharp exhale then rolls his eyes. “I’m terrible with women. Farm patrons, my friends, my employees, no problem. I kill relationships before they even get started, so yeah it’s been awhile since I had a girlfriend. And I don’t have time to run around chasing hookers so I haven’t had sex in a while. What’s your excuse?” he asks, raising his voice.

  I don’t know what I’m thinking when I respond to him. I’m just sick of his shit.

  I explode.

  “It’s funny you mention hookers. Sex work is an interesting trade. It really is work you know, but you learn a lot about other people. You learn a lot about yourself and you learn a lot about men. So after the ten years I spent as a professional dominatrix, while juggling law school and raising my sister, I did something silly. I told myself I wasn’t going to sleep with someone again until I felt myself falling in love. Who would have thought corporate law would do such a crippling number on my actual social life.

  “Who thought it would almost get me killed,” I say with an empty laugh. He just stares at me for a second. But I’m not done. “So maybe, I don’t know, I was just so starved for male attention that my female lizard brain was having a hard time telling my body what was real and what was part of this ruse we have going on.”

  “See?! I didn’t even know you were a prostitute and I managed to offend you.”

  “Jesus Christ, Silas. Shut the fuck up! I just wanted to kiss you, okay? I’m sorry if I read the whole being humped awake thing wrong. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I try to make another break for it and he grabs my arm again, but this time he spins me around and then deftly slides my laptop out of my hands. He sets it on the table.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  He doesn’t respond. He just kisses me. Both of his massive hands cup my cheeks and his lips are on mine and this time we are both definitely awake. I hate how good it feels to kiss Silas. I hate that I want to stab him with something long and blunt, and at the same time I can feel the tears burning behind my eyes at the thought of this kiss going wrong. I know it won’t, because this kiss is perfect. Silas is right, he is terrible with women. First dates with him must be the most awkward hell, especially after he starts talking, but I know any woman who made it to the kissing portion of the evening would be struggling with the same emotions I’m trying to fight back when I feel myself sighing into his mouth.

  I’m pathetic as one of his hands drops from my cheek and slides around my neck and down to my back. He gently pulls me closer and I open my mouth to him just enough to let his tongue slide against mine. This is the kiss I wanted the night before. The kiss I’ve been waiting for, even if it wasn’t from this man. This is the kiss I’m embarrassed to admit that after more than thirty-one years of hard living I’ve never experienced. Silas is right. Scott can talk his way into anything, but Silas is all about the action.

  He pulls away at the right moment, the smart moment, right before I start backing him toward the nearest sturdy surface or pull him toward the bedroom. My heart is pounding when I look up into his dark brown eyes. I want to touch his face, run my fingertips into what is now a full beard.

  “This doesn’t mean I like you,” he says, punching the elephant in the room the way I’m learning he loves to do.

  “I don’t like you at all.”

  “Good. Good then.” He grabs his raincoat and tugs it on. Morty finds this interesting and walks over to Silas to investigate. “I—um, I’m gonna go back out to help feed the animals and then I’ll be back. On days like this we’re pretty shut down except for the cafe.”

  “Okay. I’m not going anywhere,” I say as my fingers automatically go to my bottom lip.

  “Okay. I’ll bring you dinner.”

  “Okay.”

  He turns to leave, then stops and turns back around. “Oh. Ginny and Maya are pissed that they still haven’t met you. They are threatening to come by with Monopoly tonight. I can tell them to fuck off.”

  “No, actually that might be nice. I could use a break. I will definitely need a break by tonight and a board game might be the perfect distraction from their questions about my personal life. Harder to be nosy if we’re fighting over fake money.”

  “Good call. Okay. Later.”

  I watch him as he opens the back door and heads back into the storm.

  Maya and I are kicking Ginny and Silas’s ass at Star Wars Monopoly. I haven’t played any version of this game since Brooklyn and I were little, but Ginny’s family rules were easy enough to pick up. As was her cutthroat spirit for the game. Too bad for her she had no idea what kind of sharks she was dealing with when she sat down at the table with me and her own wife.

  After almost three large pizzas, a bunch of beers and bankrupting Silas twice, I come to the decision that I love Ginny and Maya. Of course Silas, who drives me nuts, would be best friends with one of the coolest interracial lesbian couples I’ve ever met. I don’t regret showering and putting on makeup for them at all. I may have put on the sundress I’d shoved in my bag during my packing frenzy for Silas. Maybe. He seems to like it anyway. Somehow I’ve ended up on his lap and, even though he’s focused on the argument Maya and Ginny are having about how mortgaging one of her ships will not save her from her financial problems, his hand has made itself comfortable on my upper thigh.

  I’m having a normal physiology response. I’m in a complicated situation with a man who I am attracted to, a man who really knows how to kiss. It’s makes complete sense for me to be wet.

  “Silas, it’s your go,” Ginny says after she hands over a wad of cash to Maya.

  “Nope, I’m done.”

  “What do you mean you’re done?” Maya asks.

  “I mean I’m done. You just cleaned me out.” he says to me.

  “Baby, wait your turn,” I reply. “You just roll a forty-eight on the next go and the bank can hand you just enough money to get you back in the game.”

  “This is reverse racism, is what this is,” Ginny says, taking a swig from her beer.

  “No, babe it’s reparations,” Maya says.

  “Sure is,” I say laughing. Maya leans forward and high fives me.

  “I’m only half White,” Silas says. “And my White half isn’t even American. I feel like I’m being unjustly persecuted.”

  I almost ask Silas what the other half is, but I save myself from giving away a major clue that I really know nothing about Silas. Or Scott. We stopped at the brown part of Scott’s identity. He’s never told me a single thing about his family or his heritage. Not that it mattered beyond our solidarity in our very white office. Still, in this case, it’s fact I should know.

  “Whatever, the Scottish owned slaves. Try again, bruh,” Maya laughs.

  “And speaking of your best half. We FaceTimed with Iolana this morning,” Ginny says.

  “Oh God. You narc’d me out, didn’t you?”

  I don’t have a clue who Iolana is, but I keep that to myself too. Luckily Silas fills in the gap. He leans up and kisses me. “You’re gonna have to talk to my mom at some point.”

  “Oh yeah?” I say, trying to keep my face neutral. We didn’t talk about meeting parents when we worked this all out. Scott, seriously, never even mentions his parents.

  “Yeah, but not tonight,” Silas says before he turns back to Maya. “You two need to get out of my house.”

  “Oh shit,” Ginny
says as she glances at her smart watch. “It’s late. We have to go, babe.”

  “Are you going to come by the cannery tomorrow, Ebie?” Maya asks as she stands.

  “Um, sure,” I say, looking at Silas.

  “I’ll bring her by. Don’t worry. You can introduce her to the wonderful world of jam and artisanal honey.”

  “I do love honey,” I say as Silas gently moves me off his lap so he can stand.

  “Great. If you’re still here when it stops raining we can go by the apiary,” Ginny says.

  “Oh! You guys keep bees?” I can’t hide my excitement. During the Dorrit case, the science of all things bees was all that kept my interest during all the long nights.

  “Sure do,” Maya says.

  “Well hopefully this weather clears up soon.”

  We say our goodbyes to his friends, then I help Silas clean up the kitchen table. “I really like

  them,” I say as I put the few leftover beers in the fridge. It dawns on me then. For the first time in a long time, I’m kind of happy. I find myself smiling when I turn around to face Silas.

  “They loved you, so now they are going to want to hang out with you the rest of the time you’re here.”

  “They are better company than the dogs.”

  “You hear that, Honey?” He squats down beside the half asleep puppy who parked it by our chairs a few hours ago. He makes a show of lifting up her ears. “She doesn’t like you either.”

  “Hey, I never said that! I like Honeycrisp just fine and Joe doesn’t seem to be bothering anyone. The other three are just always staring at me.”

  Silas stands and fixes me with a cold look. “Please use his given name. He’s lived too long to be reduced to just Joe.”

  “I can’t believe you named your dog Joe Namath.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Oh.”

  “Enough about the dogs. I’m gonna get to my bed.”

  “I suppose I’ll join you. Two head injuries in one week are enough to wear a girl out.”

  “Huh?”

  “I broke the guy’s nose with the back of my head.”

  He whispers, “Fuck,” under his breath.

  “Yeah. Good times. Let’s go to bed.”

  “After you,” Silas moves out of the way so I can head down the hall. I hear the light switches flicking off in the kitchen behind me. Only Honeycrisp and Morty follow us to the bedroom. Honeycrisp hops up in her chair, probably waiting for us to get settled before she wiggles her way between us. Morty sits in the corner waiting for the next part of the evening to begin. Hopefully he won’t be staring at us while we sleep. I go over to my bag to grab my sleep shorts, and when I turn around Silas is standing on the other side of the bed holding a box of condoms and a small bottle of lube.

  “I’m not trying to imply anything. And I know the boyfriend/girlfriend part of the night is over. We’re not pretending anymore,” he says. “But I figured it was better to be prepared just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” I ask slowly. “Just in case we decide to do more than kiss?”

  “Yeah,” he says. All that’s missing is the “DUH!” He tosses the condom and the lube in the center of the bed, like he’s throwing down the gauntlet. It’s one thing to ensure enthusiastic consent, but he really isn’t joking when he says he’s terrible with women. I’ve been with some awkward men in my life, both personally and professionally, and I’ve had some pretty strange propositions, but this is something special.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and reach for the condoms and lube. The extra large condoms are definitely necessary, but I’m almost laughing at the thought of what I’m supposed to do with this tiny bottle of lube. Not that we’ll actually need it for what I think he has in mind. I’m still wet. I turn it over in my hand, then look up at Silas.

  “I was dreaming that we were having sex last night too,” I admit.

  “You were?”

  “Do you want to have sex with me now, Silas?” I ask.

  He stares at me blankly for a moment, like I just asked him a question that’s caught him off guard. I wonder if he forgets that he just tossed sex accessories in my direction. He blinks and then he responds.

  “Yes. I do.”

  Nine

  I turn and face the dresser, and roll the lube over in my hands. It’s been a long time. Still, doesn’t mean my brain doesn’t go back to familiar places. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told Silas about the promise I made to myself. After I quit working as a dominatrix, I needed some time for myself. So much of my life had changed. Brook was finally on her own. I wanted to give myself time to find a healthy romantic and sexual relationship with a man in a certain way. Instead, that time just went to clocking as many billable hours as possible at Murrell, Dunne, Walmax and Wright. Silas might be the one lacking the interpersonal skills, but he’s not the only one lacking certain experience.

  He isn’t my man, but he isn’t a client either. He’s put his cards on the table, twice in one day. The terms and conditions might be a little fuzzy, but he wants me. I can admit that I want him too even if I’m not ready to put any weight to it. I need to see if I can have him the way I want him. I have to see if he’s into it.

  I turn back around and scoot a little more to the middle of the bed. “Okay, well. I have some ground rules. You look like you want to say something.”

  “I know I’ve been hurting your feelings a lot so I’m trying to keep the lightning fast responses to myself.”

  “Oh. Well, I appreciate that.”

  “You were saying something about ground rules?”

  “Right.” I stand and face him, put on my courtroom exterior. “Over the years, I've come to learn that I enjoy sex a certain way. I like to be in control. In complete control. How does that—you know what? Sorry. I'm trying to ease you into this with sugar coating and that's not gonna work ’cause that’s not how you work. Here's the deal. I was a dominatrix for a really long time and now it's the only way I enjoy having sex. I'm open to negotiating because consent is amazing, but I just need to set your expectations.You're not going to throw me on the bed and pound me into next week.”

  Silas is just staring at me. He's turning a little bit red. “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “I’m just—can I just say what I'm thinking?”

  “Sure.” I brace myself for the worst.

  “I would love for you to dominate me,” he says. The genuine enthusiasm in his voice catches me a little off guard.

  “Okay. Well good. We’ll do that. How about I start and then as we go, you tell me if you don't want to do something.”

  “I don't think that’ll happen.”

  “Silas, I'm serious.”

  “So am I!”

  I realize if I keep arguing this point we’ll be standing on opposite sides of the bed all night, yelling back and forth at each other. We can do this, but I know I'll have to do this extra carefully. He has no idea what he's getting into.

  “Do you have any neckties?”

  “Yeah, hold on.” He practically sprints out of the room. Morty is right on his heels. Not a minute later they’re both back. Silas hands me two wacky print neckties that look like they haven't been worn since the seventies. They’ll work just fine.

  “Will he freak out if we close him out of the room?” I ask, nodding to Morty.

  “No. Come on, boy. You want Honey gone too?”

  “No, she's already knocked out,” I say and of course Honeycrisp opens her eyes, but she doesn't move.

  After Silas kicks Morty out, he turns to me.

  “Okay, I'm ready.”

  “I can see that.” The bulge in his jeans is straining to get out. “Take off your clothes, please. All of them.”

  “You’re not gonna make me run through the town square, yelling that I’m the most beautiful princess in the world, are you?” he asks as he pulls his shirt over his head.

  “No. Is this something you’re worried about?”

  “Yes.”
>
  “Here’s the deal. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to humiliate you. We’re going to have sex and you will enjoy it. I promise.”

  He finishes stripping and stands next to the dresser completely naked. My eyes dart directly to his crotch. I can’t help it. His perfectly thick erection curves up a little toward his stomach. I actually stare at it for a while, and he graciously lets me, keeping all his comments about my blatant voyeurism to himself. I manage to keep the drool pooling in my mouth under control as I take a few moments to detail every inch of the rest of his body. His legit farmer’s tan is the exact opposite of unappealing. It’s just further proof of how hard he works and how much he cares about his business. My gaze travels further down his body, taking in his perfect abs, his cock again and his amazing thighs.

  “Now what?” he eventually asks.

  “Uh, right. First rule, I want you to keep the talking to a minimum. You’re right. One-on-one you seem to be terrible with women that you at least have some sort of attraction to. I think we can have a lot of fun tonight, but this is going to take years if you're talking. I can gag you if you think it's gonna be a problem.”

  “Can I respond to that? Or are we talking no words at all?”

  “If you have a question, I want you to think very carefully before you ask it, and I’d prefer if you kept the general comments to yourself.”

  “I—okay. What would you like me to do now?”

  “I want you to go take a shower and I want you to wash very carefully under your nails. I know you washed your hands before we had dinner, but I want to make sure your fingers are clean.”

  “You plan—”

  I raise my fingers in a closing motion. “Uh!” There's no real question coming. He just can't help himself.

  “Sorry. I’ll just go take that shower now.”

  “Good. Thank you.” I watch him as he walks past me into the bathroom. His bare ass is amazing. I know part of it is genetics, but there is definitely something to be said about a hard-working man who knows how to lift with his legs.

  While he’s in the shower I consider getting undressed, but I just remove my underwear instead. I know how the sundress I’m wearing makes my breasts and my ass look. I’m sure he wants to see me naked, but I’m going to make him wait. I’ll make it a reward of sorts if we can get through tonight with minimal interruptions.