by Dinah McLeod
I beamed at him, a smile curving my lips. “I love you.”
“What can I do, Shels?”
It had been so long since he'd called me by his pet nickname that I burst out laughing. “Let's just take it a day at a time, okay?”
“That’s fine, honey, and I appreciate you being so understanding. But I have to know what I can do to begin making things right between us.”
I dropped my eyes, trying to hide the sudden flush in my cheeks. My body knew exactly what he could do and my nipples hardened merely at the thought. I could feel my entire body awakening, tingling at the prospect of his touch.
“Shelby?” he ducked his head to try to catch my eyes, but when I turned my face away he captured my jaw in his hand and turned me to face him.
“I mean it. Anything.”
I felt my sex clench at the sexy murmur, but I couldn’t bear to say the words aloud. I’d never been the kind of girl to lay out exactly what she wanted, especially when what I wanted was sex. I wasn’t sure why, and I’d always envied those that weren’t shy about asking for pleasure.
Almost as if he could read my thoughts—or maybe after all these years, he just knew the signs—Dean pushed me with gentle hands until I was lying on my back. With slow, deliberate movements that I found unbearably sexy he leaned over me. He pulled my robe open and began covering my delicate skin with soft kisses. He trailed a line from the stiffened peaks of my nipples all the way down to my belly button. When he got there, he stopped and gave me a sexy grin that made me melt into a puddle then and there.
He hooked his fingers in the band of my panties and I felt the coolness of the moisture that had dampened my underwear. When he whisked them down I couldn't contain my groan of desire. “Do you want me, Shelby?”
I’ve wanted you for so long, I thought, arching my back and pushing my trimmed pussy toward him.
“You're so damn sexy, Woman,” he growled, low in his throat, before lowering his mouth to my aching cleft. He licked my pussy lips almost playfully; letting his tongue tease me as I silently begged for the satisfaction only he could deliver. He flicked his tongue over my sensitive clit and I whimpered.
Don't make me say it, I pleaded. Don't make me.
But if Dean got my telepathic messages, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he continued to play with me, using the wetness of his skilled tongue to bring me to a state of such arousal that it was torment. He wedged himself firmly between my legs, sliding down lower to kiss my thighs, tickling each one with his tongue—a move that he knew rendered me speechless.
“Please,” I cried out, somewhere between a whisper and a groan.
“What?” He sat up straight in one fluid motion and I could have cried. “What do you want, Shelby?”
“You.” It was as good as I could do, but Dean wasn’t having it. His eyes flashed wickedly and he gave me a grin filled with unrepentant longing.
“Here I am, baby.”
“Dean...”
He threw back his head and laughed so loud that I shushed him. Still, I couldn’t help but smile at him. It had seemed like ages since he’d laughed with such abandon. Bit by bit, the new serious, doomsday Dean seemed to be slipping away, reclaimed by the man that I loved.
“You said anything I wanted,” I reminded him, looking at him through lowered lashes.
“I did, didn't I?” he crooned. “So tell me what you want, Shelby. It's that simple. Your wish is my command.”
The man was so frustrating! He knew I couldn’t—I just couldn’t! I thought he’d given up long ago on his fantasies of dirty talk, seeing that I was too embarrassed to participate. “I want you to make love to me.”
“Oh, that's convincing,” he said with a dry chuckle.
“Dean!” I snapped, practically radiating with need.
“Careful, young lady,” he replied, mock-stern. "You wouldn't want a spanking, would you?”
Yes. I surprised myself when the thought popped into my head. I’d never enjoyed being chastised, but right now, in this moment, suddenly it seemed like a very sexy idea.
“You do, don't you?” he prompted, his voice throaty. Without waiting for me to either confirm or deny his question, he pulled me upright and tugged me over his knees.
I felt strangely out of breath with excitement. His knees pressed into my soft belly in a way that was all too familiar, but for some reason instead of feeling contrite and anxious, as I normally did, my breath was coming in raspy gasps and my pussy practically ached with longing.
I could feel him pull his arm back and before I knew what to think, it had landed on my upturned bottom. I heard myself gasp as though from far away. All I could concentrate on was the light tingling in my bottom that grew with each and every delicious swat. After peppering me with about a dozen light love-taps, Dean increased the pace and the power behind them. I could hear a definite smack with each spank he landed and before long I was squirming on his lap.
“Stay still,” he said in a seductive whisper. “Take it like a good girl.”
My sex clenched at his purred admonishment. “Yes, sir.”
“See?” He landed a mild spank to my trembling cheeks. “Was that so hard?”
“No. But something sure is,” I replied, wondering at my daring.
“Shelby Victoria Davies!” My husband gasped. “Now, was that appropriate?”
I held my breath, unsure how to answer. I was already flushing from the tip of my hairline down to my toes. I knew, because the surge of heat was almost overwhelming.
“The correct answer,” he whispered, “is yes, it's entirely appropriate.”
I started to laugh but was cut short when the smacks resumed, this time packed with a sting that I somehow found wonderfully exciting. Just when the tingling began to veer toward pain, they stopped coming. Dean rested his hand on my back although he didn't let me up.
“Now, let's try this again. What do you want, Shelby?”
I groaned aloud. This again?
“Wrong answer,” he replied, bringing his hand down with a loud crack.
“Ow!” I protested, caught off guard by the hard swat.
“Just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you.”
“I...I can't, Dean. You know that,” I pleaded with him to understand.
“You can, baby. It's just the two of us and I love you. Tell me.”
I shook my head and opened my mouth to protest, but before I could, another hearty smack stopped me. “Honey!” I cried out. “Stop!”
“You have complete control over this, Shelby. You decide when it stops.”
“Oh, is that so?” I challenged, laughing despite myself.
“Well, this time you do,” he amended quickly. “You can end all of this with a few simple words. It's up to you.”
“But I can't,” I insisted. “You know I'm not like that.”
“Like what, baby?”
“You know...sexy.”
A flurry of smacks caught me off guard and continued until I was kicking my feet in protest. “Hey!” I exclaimed. “What was that for?” I found myself unceremoniously flipped over and my husband leaned over me, his eyes boring into my own.
“You are too sexy,” he replied, his tone every bit as authoritative and stern than if I had truly been in trouble. “You are the sexiest woman alive, hear me? Why do you think I want to keep you at home? I'd hate for the right man to catch sight of you and whisk you off to a glamorous modeling career.”
“Dean,” I scoffed, even as I giggled. I glanced away, but Dean ran a finger down my breast, sliding it toward my nipple. I sighed with pleasure and shifted my eyes back to his face. His handsome, chiseled face. I should model? With his strong jaw, his high cheekbones and sexy smile, he was everything women wanted. It didn't hurt matters that he looked absolutely stunning in his military uniform. It brought out the color in his eyes.
“You do,” he said again. “And don't argue with me unless you want another spanking.”
“Yes, sir,” I rep
lied, my heart feeling as light as a balloon.
“And another thing.”
“Uh-oh,” I deadpanned.
“The reason I want you to tell me what you want is because you deserve to have what you want. You are beautiful and smart and fun to be around. You're so strong, Shelby.”
“I am not,” I protested, feeling a bit embarrassed by the flattery.
“You are,” he persisted gently. “You'd have to be, wouldn't you, to have put up with all this stuff. The move, me being—”
“I don’t want to talk about the move right now,” I replied, arching my back and pushing my breasts toward him. My stiffened peaks reached for him, longing for his caress.
“You don't, huh?” His eyes twinkled at me. “Well then, you know what you have to do.”
“What do I have to do?” I asked, even though I knew what his answer would be.
He leaned down and began to nibble my ear. “Tell me,” he licked my ear lobe, “what you,” he kissed it gently, pulling a sigh from me, “want.”
“I want you,” I replied, my voice hoarse from desire.
“How?”
“On top of me,” I said breathily, avoiding his gaze.
“I am on top of you,” he reminded me, his voice gently playful.
“Inside me, then.”
Though I was averting my eyes, I knew his brows would have shot up at my words. I knew he would be pleased with me. He didn't say so, but then, he didn't have to. He began to cover every inch of my body in warm, loving kisses. He started with my lips, kissing me with such tender passion that I became breathless. Then he worked his way down, kissing my collarbone, then on down to my nipples, where he lingered, teasing them with his tongue.
“I can't,” I whispered, my thighs slick with my own juices. “I can't wait any more.”
"Under normal circumstances, I'd tell you to wait until I'm ready," he replied, still teasing. “But in this case, I think you've more than earned your reward.”
It was all I could do to hold myself back from climaxing on the spot. It wasn't much longer, though. As soon as he knelt between my thighs and licked the juice that had flowed from my pussy I shuddered with an orgasm.
“Good girl,” he whispered. I smiled at him and he winked back at me before lowering his head again. Dean took me to new heights that evening. He licked and teased and pleasured me until my body practically hummed from orgasms. Then and only then did he claim me by sliding his hard and ready cock into my wetness.
I came again, my nails down his back, screaming his name as the two of us moved our bodies together.
“Shelby,” he grunted out and in another moment I felt his hot seed spill into me. He lay on top of me for a few minutes, breathing heavily, before he rolled off, plopping onto the mattress.
I turned my body toward his, nestling under his shoulder. “I love you.”
His own reply was another grunt, but I saw the smile on his face. After a few minutes, when his breathing was a little less labored, he turned toward me. “You hungry?”
I couldn't help but giggle. Dean either went straight to sleep after sex or went to the kitchen for a snack. “Sure.”
“Follow me.”
I sat up and put my robe back on, pulling the sash closed tightly. Dean put on his discarded boxers and we set out walking quietly down the hall.
When we entered the kitchen, he pointed me toward a chair. I sat and watched as he rummaged through the cabinets. He surprised me by coming up with a box of Breakfast Tea. I arched an eyebrow when he pulled the kettle out from under the sink. “You can cook now?” I joked.
“Gotta learn,” he replied with a grin. “After all, my wife's career is really taking off right now, so it's time I learn to fend for myself.”
I glowed from the masked praise. “Well, I don't know if I'd say all that...”
“I do, Shels. You're doing very well, and you should be proud of yourself.”
I felt my eyes misting over with tears. "Thanks, Dean.”
“I mean it.” He turned his back to me and put the kettle on the stove. When he turned back around the light had seemed to drain from his face, leaving him looking worn down. “Shelby, there's something I have to tell you.”
Oh, no. I felt my heart start to sink. By the look on his face, I could tell that we were about to lose the lighthearted camaraderie we’d been enjoying. It was so rare these days I would have done just about anything to hold onto the feeling. And suddenly, I knew just the thing. “I have something to tell you, too.”
“Me first, babe. Please, this is going to be hard enough.”
Mystified, I nodded, not knowing what he could have to tell me that would put such a pained look on his face. I listened closely as he talked about the Army and shared what had really happened the day he got injured. It hadn't been an accident, at least not the way he'd told me, not in the way he had let me believe. It had been a mistake, a stupid mistake that had led to him losing his job. I didn't know what to say, so in a way, I was glad Dean never paused for breath.
“I'm sorry I lied to you, Shelby. It’s unforgivable. I know I should have just told you the truth.”
“So why didn't you?” I asked, still in shock.
“I didn’t want you to know that I’d let you down. I made a mistake, and I didn’t want you to pay for it, too.”
“But I did pay for it!” I burst out, surprising myself. “We all paid for it! Do you realize how unfair this has been to me? To Morgan? You’ve been walking around here like you’ve been so mistreated, but…” I swallowed hard, still struggling to understand. “That’s not true, is it? You got lucky.”
He nodded miserably. “I guess I did. It could have been a lot worse.”
“Dean!” I screeched. “How could you…how could you lie to me all this time?”
“I’m so sorry, Shelby.”
My head was spinning. I didn’t know how to take the news. I felt so betrayed; first, that he hadn’t been truthful and then that he’d felt he couldn’t tell me. I didn’t know which hurt worse. “I don’t know what to say.”
“We don’t have to say everything now,’ he told me. “I’ll be willing to talk about it whenever you’re ready.”
Damn right you will, I thought, struggling to get control of my feelings. That’s when I looked up and I saw how pained his eyes were. As hurt as I was, I knew it hadn’t been easy for him to keep a secret from me for so long. “Is this why you were so distant?”
“I guess so.”
“Well, is there anything else you want to tell me?” I demanded. “Any other secrets?”
“No, Shelby. I won’t be keeping any more secrets.”
Better not, I thought, but I kept it to myself. The news was truly starting to sink in and I was calming down. As hard as I tried to fight it, I felt a pang of sympathy for my husband, for what this one mistake had cost him. “I wish you would have told me,” I said, my tone softer. Really, that was all it boiled down to.
“I know. There have been so many times I’ve tried to, but I never could bring myself to do it. I guess I was afraid of how you'd look at me after, when you knew.”
I slid off the stool and walked around the counter to take his hand in mine. “How I'd look at you? Dean, I'd look at you like a woman who loves you, no matter what. This changes nothing, understand? I'm still sorry that you felt you had to leave. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't be honest with me. I know how hard that had to be, living with this secret. I'm sorry you thought I'd be anything other than the woman who promised to love, honor and—”
“Obey,” he finished, a soft smile curving his lips. He pulled me in his arms and after a moment I relaxed. “You are something else, Shelby. I could live a hundred years and never deserve you.”
“I’m still not sure what to think,” I admitted. “I’m still angry.”
“I know, baby,” he murmured into my hair. “And I’m still sorry. Take your time. We’ll get there, together.”
I hadn’t thought of us
as a team in so long that it was the one thing that could help me relax completely. I even smiled up at him, tentatively at first, before I tilted my head back for a kiss. Dean happily obliged, taking my lips hungrily with a passion that belied our shared orgasms just minutes ago. When I pulled away, I could see that he had his bedroom eyes back on. I supposed it was all catching up to us, all the long weeks without sex. Thinking about sex reminded me of what I needed to tell him. No more keeping secrets, for either of us.
“There’s something I need to tell you, too,” I said. I drew in a long breath, trying to prepare myself for what I had to say. “I’ve been keeping a secret of my own.”
His smile didn't even waver. “What is it?”
“Um,” I cleared my throat nervously, butterflies flittering around inside my stomach. “You might want to sit down for this.” Just then, the teakettle began to whistle. Turning from me, Dean walked to the stove, lifted the kettle and turned off the burner. I watched as he pulled two cups down from the cabinets and filled them with boiling water before tossing a tea bag in each. Before he brought them around the counter, he stopped at the fridge and popped an ice cube out of the tray that he promptly put in one of the teacups.
I smiled at him as he pushed that cup towards me. I preferred my tea to be more lukewarm than hot and I was touched that he remembered.
“So, what is it? What did you want to tell me?”
He was sitting down beside me on a bar stool and his closeness unnerved me. Just when I thought I'd lost my courage, he reached out a hand and pressed it against my thigh. To avoid having to speak, I took a large gulp of tea. Unfortunately, the ice hadn't completely melted yet, so I ended up spluttering as the liquid burned my throat.
“You okay?”
My eyes watered, both from the coughing and the tenderness in his eyes. What was happening to me? I seemed to be crying over everything these days. The realization only reminded me of my current situation. “You might want to, um...” I had been about to say “sit down” when I realized that he was doing that already. “Brace yourself.”