My heart swelled at his assessment, and my face found its grin.
“What time are our dinner reservations?” I asked in an attempt to re-direct the conversation, or I would start pulling those studs out with my teeth.
“Five. It’s about a twenty minute drive from here in this traffic.”
His eyes glanced around my apartment. “Very nice place you have here,” he said, nodding. “And the doorman does his job well. I tried to pay him to let me come up and surprise you, perhaps catching you not yet dressed…”
I had to close my eyes and find my balance, recalling my little fantasy when I was getting dressed, imagining him watching. I couldn’t wait until he saw the garter. I took a deep breath through my nose and smelled his cologne. That musky, sandalwood mix that must have had pheromones in it because I was thinking of only sex.
I opened my eyes and he was standing only inches from me. How did he move without me hearing him? Probably because my heart was beating so loudly I could barely hear anything else.
He smiled and brought his hand up to my chin, tilting my face up to look at him. I loved that here I stood in four inch heels and I still had to look up into his eyes. With Greg, even in flats, I was nearly eye level.
“I missed you,” he whispered, then placed a warm, kiss on each cheek. “I think the next time I go to Paris, I’m bringing you with me.” The finger that was under my chin slowly slid down the side of my neck, to my décolletage, into the plunging V of the dress, until the fabric stopped his journey. My insides clenched and felt the moisture return between my legs.
We gazed into one another’s eyes for a moment. His were hooded and dark. I don’t think he had opera on his mind.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I whispered hoarsely.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said as his right hand found the slit of the dress and started to fish inside.
I stepped back, not wanting to ruin the surprise for later. As calmly as I could manage, I walked to the mini-bar. “I have Macallan Twelve,” I squeaked. I cleared my throat and continued. “And a Red Zin from Sonoma County.”
He was silent so I glanced back at him. He was smiling at my back. “Macallan?” he asked. I shrugged slightly with a small smile. “Sounds wonderful. And I see you already have yours,” he said, his eyes flashing to the breakfast bar where my glass sat abandoned. Effortlessly, he sauntered over to the breakfast bar, picked up my glass, and walked up to me. He took my hand and led me to the sofa.
“Please, sit. I can serve myself. You’ll be serving plenty later.”
I sank onto the sofa and I quickly took a sip. My breath raced as did my pulse. What possibilities lay with that statement…?
Note to self: never spend three days away from this woman again. Yes, I’d missed the way Beth talked, and the funny insightful comments she made. Her intelligent views on the news, and how she gushed over the puppies in the window at the pet shop on Lexington. And I loved how she listened to what I had to say, and didn’t try and turn whatever I said into an opportunity for her. She was genuinely interested.
But the instant I saw her, conversation wasn’t what I was missing. I wanted to thrust her against the wall, shove the dress aside and sink my throbbing cock into her. I needed Beth, mind and body, and it scared me.
Staring at her now, I didn’t know how it was possible, but over these three days, she grew even more beautiful. It wasn’t the hair, or the make-up, or the drop-dead gorgeous gown and shoes that set me back a few paychecks, not to mention the gift I had for her later, there was a renewed confidence in her posture. They say that clothes make the woman/man… but I have not always found that to be true. It was the experiences. I wondered what things she’d experienced since Tuesday afternoon that caused this shift.
Oh, and her invitation to rip the gown off her later. That was so happening sooner than later.
CHAPTER 42
He poured his drink and returned to sit on the coffee table in front of me, unbuttoning his coat as he did so. He sipped the scotch and set it down next to him.
“I love what you’ve done with your look tonight. In fact, when you opened the door, I forgot my name.”
I sipped my scotch again. His words were making me lose my mind. Taking ahold of my glass, he set it next to his. Then he reached into his coat’s inside breast pocket.
“I did a little shopping in Paris.” My heart stopped. Before me he was holding a black velvet box, about three inches wide and six inches long. His graceful fingers undid the silver latch that held the box closed, and he pulled back the lid on its hinge. My hand flew to my neck, as the lump in my throat that had been threatening my ability to breathe, grew in size.
Resting in the box was a pendant with a princess cut diamond seated in a swirl of silver. The diamond had to be at least a full karat, if not larger. At each corner of the square diamond sat a smaller chocolate diamond.
“Jack. This definitely crosses the line. I can’t poss–”
“Beth. This is your necklace. Please, do not deny me.” His eyes burned with intent.
“But Jack. This is too expensive.”
“Don’t spoil this for me. I’ve never had the desire to buy anything like this for anyone before. All of the women that I’ve ever dated have only wanted to be with me because I was a famous model, or the owner of a modeling agency. You were with me knowing full well who I was, and I don’t mean the me of the past thirty years. You know my past. Where I come from. An uneducated family. I’m sure you know I’m the first to go to college.”
I quietly nodded. It was widely known that his family was devoted to farming and they didn’t make much fuss over grades. There was a nickname for the kids in classes at our school as well, they were dubbed Honorary Stevens’. Once, I’d missed a week of school because of the flu, then was surprised my first day back with a pop quiz. I’d gotten a D on it. A classmate called me ‘Lizzie Stevens’ for it. None of Jack’s brothers or sisters went to college and, last I’d heard, they were still working on the ranch.
“You want to be with me for everything that I am. Just like I want you for everything you are. You haven’t judged me one bit. You have given your trust and your body to me. This is a small token as to how much that means to me.”
My eyes clouded with tears as I searched his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the neatly folded handkerchief and blotted at my eyes, careful not to smudge my make-up. “No crying. You’re too beautiful and your make-up is perfect. Don’t ruin those eyes for me.”
Setting the kerchief aside, he worked the necklace out of its hold. “May I?” he asked, holding it up. “There’s a nice touch to this necklace that is perfect for this dress— smaller pendant for the back, to take advantage of the dress’s back, or lack thereof.”
I stood on wobbly legs and turned so he could put the necklace on me. “You have a gorgeous back,” he breathed on my neck, the heat of which shot straight to my sex, causing my nipples to draw tight. After he affixed the latch, he ran his finger down the pendant that hung at the back. Every nerve in my skin was on fire. It was as if I had just been at the mercy of Jack’s red flogger.
He leaned in and kissed the nape of my neck, pressing his erection into my lower back. I pushed my bum into him wanting and needing more. I suddenly didn’t care very much about going to the opera. I wanted him to throw me down on the floor and take me six ways from Sunday.
“Turn,” he groaned as he took a step back from me. “I’d like to see the front.”
I twisted around. His eyes locked with mine for a moment before his gaze trailed downward, hesitating at my lips, then sliding down my neck and chest, settling on the cluster of gems that rested just between my breasts.
“Perfect. Just like you.” He extended an elbow toward me. “Shall we?” he offered.
I bent down, picked up my scotch and downed the rest. I had a feeling I was going to need the liquid courage.
The whole ride to dinner, I was a mess. I was squ
irming in my seat, trying to find some friction to relive the need that had been growing since I got dressed. Jack, as cool and calm as ever, sat quietly next to me, rubbing small circles on my knee as we drove. I asked him questions about his trip to Paris. I loved how animated he got when he talked about his job. But the entire time, I was somewhat distracted by his lips and tongue while he talked.
Dinner was at a small, sophisticated place that served organic creations. He pointed out one of the menu items to me. My eyes nearly fell out of my head when I saw the origin of the beef. Stevens Farm, Colorado. Without any hesitation, I ordered that dish. I was delighted it tasted so succulent.
Conversation was easy and interesting. It was such a relief to have our connected past out on the table.
Jack talked about growing up on a farm and how his parents were upset that he didn’t want to stay. For years after he moved to the city, they never talked. Jack said he’d send them checks to help out, but the checks were always returned. He was upset his help was repeatedly turned down. He was doing what he could, and their rejection was hurtful. He felt them turning down his small generosity made him feel quite unneeded.
His father called Jack’s line of business a “travesty and disgrace to the human race.” “Flaunting skin and sex” and he wouldn’t take a dime of Jack’s “sin money.” Even so, Jack always sought ways to help his family. This restaurant’s organic policy was one way Jack found to help. Behind the scenes, he connected the Chef and his family’s farm. This was one of four restaurants in New York that used Stevens Beef on their menu.
When his father passed at ninety-two, Jack’s mother refused to call and tell Jack, but he learned from his oldest sister, Sharon. Sharon was the only sibling that had encouraged him to follow his dreams.
When Jack went back for the funeral, he stayed for a full month, helping out on the farm. Upgrading machines and organizing repairs to the barns and home. His mother, a proud woman, held firm to her husband’s position until the last day of his stay. Since then, she’d visited New York a few times, as well as his company. He’d always kept secret from them his involvement on the restaurant side of things.
We climbed into the limo to head over to Lincoln Center, but dinner hadn’t satisfied me. Jack’s loving words, openness, gentle touches, and approving eyes for the past two hours had fueled a hunger that had not yet been fed. Glancing over at Jack to find him staring at me, a wicked thought flashed through my brain… a scene from a book I read a while back in book club. The couple was in a limo in New York on their way to a fancy evening.
After Anand started the drive to The Met, and I confirmed that the privacy glass was up, I slid off of my seat and settled on my knees between Jack’s legs. I looked up at him with what I hoped were coy and playful eyes.
“Want to know why I didn’t order dessert?” I asked sweetly.
Jack leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “You are playing with fire,” he croaked back.
“But I want ice cream,” I replied biting my lip and hoping he’d catch my little joke.
His eyes tracked my every move. I slowly reached up, unbuttoned his slacks and eased the zipper down, revealing his black silk boxers which barely contained Jack’s impressive length. Reaching in through the opening the shorts offered, I slipped my hand in to claim my prize.
His breath hissed as I wrapped my fingers confidently around the velvety shaft and pulled him free. I loved watching his eyes heat up and become hooded. I loved watching his breath change. I loved feeling his pulse throb in his heavy cock.
Not breaking eye contact, I leaned forward and licked the underside of his length, starting at the base. When I reached the tip, his hips lurched slightly. I swirled my tongue around his crown, earning myself a guttural groan.
“Am I doing this right?” I asked knowingly. “I want to do this right. I need to do this right… for you.”
My answer came in the form of his hand snaking behind my head and pulling me back to the delectable treat that lay before me. I opened my mouth and willingly took him in. He started to go too far, so I pulled back slightly, swirling my tongue around the tip to soften the rejection of not taking him in all the way. He understood my body language and didn’t force the issue.
I continued on my merry way of teasing and laving his erection, taking cues from his reactions, his hand lovingly at the base of my neck. I licked the bottom, the top, and the sides. I gently worked the head. I wanted to be able to take him in further. I wanted to be able to swallow.
“How far do you want to take this, Beth? Because you are about to reach the point of no return,” he cautioned.
I pulled my mouth off his cock, kissing the swollen head. “I want to do this right,” I whispered. “I don’t know if I can, but I want to.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” he asked, shaking his head as I took him again into my mouth.
This time I tried to take him in further, but gagged slightly.
“Relax,” he coaxed. “Let your jaw relax.”
I did as he instructed, and was surprised to find that I could take in another couple of inches. The expression on his face was priceless. I continued, adding a tongue swirl here and there.
“That’s it. Oh my god. Your mouth feels so good,” he groaned. His fingers tightened on the back of my head, and his size grew. I knew what was going to happen.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “God knows I want to, but…”
I cut him off as I sucked on him deeper still, his hairs tickling my nose.
“Oh, Beeettthhhhhh” he groaned as he shot his hips slightly off the seat, sinking deeper into my mouth. I felt the first spurt of cum hit the back of my mouth. My eyes flew open, and I swallowed as best I could when another spurt, and then another, came rushing in, Jack’s hand gripping the back of my head with a sweet pain, knowing that I had done well. I continued to slowly suck as his thrusting hips slowed. I made sure he was all cleaned up before I released him.
He leaned forward to kiss me. I could feel him trembling against me.
“Thank you,” he muttered crushing my lips.
“Thank you,” I replied.
“What in god’s name possessed you to do that?” he asked, helping me up into my seat.
“You’ve given me so much. I wanted to give you something in return.”
“By looking at you, and sitting with you, talking and listening to you, letting me touch you – you give me all I need.” He leaned over and kissed my lips with sweet care.
Suddenly I felt like crying. Why hadn’t Jack and I met when we were both adults, before I married Greg? And if we had met then, would we have the same chemistry? I liked to believe we would have.
“Don’t cry,” he pleaded pulling me under his arm so my head rest against his impressive chest. “I’m sorry.”
“I just wish we’d met before I…” I let my sentence trail off so I didn’t bring up another’s name.
“I’m not so sure you would have liked the person I was back then.” I looked up to see him turn his face to the window. My heart broke just a bit for him. “I was an angry person twenty some years ago. Choking down the rejection of my parents. Frustrated with everyone trying to get something from me. Not just the women, but my agents and managers… Had I not found the BDSM lifestyle, I may have broken apart altogether.”
I rested my hand over his heart, wishing I could repair it somehow. “How… how were you introduced?” I asked, immediately wishing I could take back the question. Did I want to know? Maybe I’d had one too many cocktails at dinner.
“It’s not important,” he said, dismissing me.
“Why?” I asked.
He sat silently. Unwilling to continue, but my mind was suddenly flooded with questions. I pressed on. “Were you ever on the other end of the flogger?”
He nodded.
“Worse than the flogger?” I continued. He stiffened slightly under my head.
“Did you like it? The more harsh things?”
; “There was something satisfying about being under the bite of a paddle, or a crop, or a whip.” He turned his eyes to me and pulled my chin up with his finger. “But it’s not for everyone. And at the time, it served a purpose.”
“What sort of purpose?”
He took a deep, slow breath. “It helped me to let go of guilt and anger.” I nodded my understanding. I imagine it was like the ‘bad spankings’ Jack had given me. I wondered what a paddle, or crop, or whip would feel like.
“Enough of that talk. Besides, we’re here,” he said sitting up and letting a smile spread across his face.
I faced the window to see the large, illuminated fountain at the Lincoln Center. A different excitement filled me. My first official visit to the opera.
CHAPTER 43
We had box seats sitting high off to the left. The view was amazing. I was entranced by the songs, the dance, and the seductive story. When Carmen’s hands were bound by Jose when she was arrested, my mind was suddenly in Jack’s room when he had me tied. A glance to Jack, and I could see the twinkle in his eye and knew he was thinking the same thing. Art imitating life. He raised a brow to me when Carmen danced her erotic dance for Jose. By the intermission, I had promised myself that I would visit the opera at least once a year. No exception. Even if I had to go alone.
We strolled out into the lobby where everyone milled around in their evening finery. Jack brought me to the bar with a bounce in his step, nodding to people he knew here and there. I don’t know why we didn’t stop and talk, but I had a sneaking suspicion that Jack had another plan in mind because we simply left the main area where couples chatted amiably with friends about the show.
“Are you enjoying the show?” he asked.
“What little you are letting me watch, yes, I am,” I replied referring to the numerous times Jack leaned over to nuzzle my neck and slide a hand into the slit of my dress. “Thank you so very much. It’s all so magical. The performers are amazing,” I gushed.
Ditching The Dream (Dream Series) Page 27