by L. B. Dunbar
“I thought the fox tamed the prince,” I croaked, finding it difficult to speak as I referenced the book we once read together.
“The fox wanted to be tamed, but she turned out to be a vixen, sly and cunning.” My heart raced. His fingertips neared the curly, dark hair at the apex of my legs. There he stopped. “You made me wild, Juliet.”
“You tamed me,” I whispered, my voice husky and begging. Touch me, I wanted to scream.
“That made me responsible for you.” His fingers combed at the coarse hair but reached no closer to the spot that ached for him. “But I lost you.”
“I don’t want you to feel responsible.” My hands caressed his hips, skimming to feel the sharpness of his hipbones under my thumbs. Reaching back for the curve of his solid ass, attempting to tug him toward me, the strength in his legs prevented him from moving.
“What do you want?” His voice shook. His eyes remained focused on where he touched me, drawing closer to where I wanted his fingers and yet not close enough.
“I wanted you to love me…but you forgot.” He flipped his gaze to me.
“You left me,” he whispered harshly with a look of shock on his face, and something more—he looked hurt.
“I did.” My guilt riddled me for months after leaving the island. I should have let him come with me to meet Lillian, show himself to her, but I had been selfish then. I wanted to keep him my secret. Added guilt came when I learned the truth of the social experiment. The only place I could look for him had been his father’s company, and that turned out to be a big mistake.
We remained staring at one another a moment, our minds drifting with separate thoughts. Our hands still pressed on one another, rediscovering the shape of each other.
“I’m sorry, Tack.” My voice trembled. “I’m so sorry.”
“Baby.” His tone was a question as his thumb rubbed over my cheek. Tears threatened to fall, caught between my failure, by leaving him, and my frustration in currently wanting him.
“Mouse, just one. Let me have one, for now.” This was us. He wanted permission, and I waited for him to ask. I’d give him anything. I felt it in that moment. He only had to ask me and he could have everything. I nodded, and his lips brushed mine. The kiss was delicate, teasing like the touches he’d been giving my body, taunting me with desire. His lips parted slightly and sucked at mine. I responded in kind with slow, deliberate nips. The kiss was tender. Words that could not yet be said came from the connection.
I’ve missed you.
I still love you.
A loud bang at my door made me jump. Our mouths broke apart. The faint sound of my name wafted through the solid wood and over the roar of the shower.
“I should go,” he said as his forehead came to rest on mine. My fingers fumbled over my lips. I didn’t want him to leave, but I recognized the desperation in Miller’s pounding.
“Let me get the door.”
12
Tack
I turned off the shower as she stepped around me, reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself. She rushed for the door, and I heard Miller as he passed the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” Miller questioned her. “What’s taking you so long?”
Silence followed and I couldn’t decipher if they were speaking low or simply communicating in signs of some type. I dried quickly, redressed, and entered the room.
“Mother of all things holy,” Miller squeaked. Juliet and he stood in a face-off with one another and I leaned on the bedpost. I hadn’t finished kissing her, not by a long shot, and I wasn’t leaving this room until I got a little more from her.
“I guess, I’ll just…” Miller’s voice faltered as a hand flapped out between Juliet and me.
“What did you want?” I asked, sharper than I intended.
“I came to take Juliet to dinner.”
Shit, I thought as I glanced at the bedside clock. We only had fifteen minutes. I needed to get dressed. I needed to relieve some pent-up pressure. My dick still stood at attention as I took in the sight of her in her towel, the hint of her firm breasts peeking over the terrycloth. I didn’t like Miller’s presence so close to her, gay or not.
“I’ll take her,” I stated.
“I’ll meet you both there.” She reached out and patted Miller’s chest before tipping her head for the door. He brushed past me and the door slammed.
“He’s pissed?” I questioned. She shrugged in response, and another thought occurred. “Has he seen you naked?”
“What difference does that make? It’s not like that for him and me.” She laughed humorlessly.
“It matters to me. I want to be the only one.” I took one giant step toward her and cupped her jaw.
“Well, you haven’t been.” The comment startled me, and my face stung like she’d slapped me.
“I’m the only one from now on.” I tugged her to me, my lips crashing over hers. My tongue invaded her mouth, refusing to release her. She was mine and only mine.
“What is wrong with you?” she snapped, breaking the kiss by firmly pressing back on my chest. “’You are beautiful, but you are empty.’”
“Stop quoting the fucking Little Prince at me.”
“Well, I’ve had two years to memorize it.”
“And who’s fault was that?” We glared at one another. We’d already established she left, and she already said she was sorry. What was wrong with me suddenly? I didn’t want to be fighting with her. Her shoulders slumped, and her head lowered. I stepped back.
“I didn’t mean that,” I said, swiping a hand through my hair.
“You did,” she said defiantly, holding her head up again to face me.
“I guess I still don’t understand. And I’m afraid I’ll walk out that door and it will all be as it was. You’ll feel like a dream.”
“Maybe that’s all it was,” she said, lowering her voice. I reached for the towel and tugged at the material, loosening it enough to fall to the floor. My hands covered each breast, squeezing them within my palms.
“I’m. Not. Dreaming.” I hissed, and her breath hitched, but her lids lowered. She sighed. “Baby, you have no idea how real you are to me.”
“Then show me,” she said, her confidence shaky but her determination something I recognized.
I spun her so her back braced against the foot of the bed.
“Hold onto the bar,” I demanded, motioning for the brace between the two posts, and she did as I said. Recalling our discussion about submissives and dominants, I remembered she had been curious. I didn’t know how far we’d get in fifteen minutes, but I wanted to show her who was in charge. She was. She could have what she wanted from me.
I knelt before her and spread her knees. My palm shot up her thigh and fingers dove into her warm center.
“Jesus fuck, Mouse,” I muttered, my forehead coming to her belly. “You’re so wet.” Her hand came to my hair. “Don’t remove your hands from the bar,” I ordered, inhaling the sweet aroma of her—tropical fresh but wanting sex. My fingers played a moment, sliding in and out before slipping free. She whimpered, her hips chasing my hand.
“How badly do you want this?” I whispered, blowing air against her heat. She moaned. “Ah, I remember. You like the breeze.” I wanted to lay her out on the bed, spread her feet and let the ocean air kiss her, driving her wild with need. But I couldn’t contain my own desire. My mouth watered for her, and I wrapped my lips around her clit, sucking deep, drawing in her flavor. She groaned above me as I lapped and licked and spread her with my tongue. Her hips rocked forward, but I pressed her back with my hand at her hip. I was fucking her, not the other way around. My tongue danced over her folds. My lips sucked her sweet nectar, and within seconds, she whimpered my name. Her knees shook, but I forced her to ride the wave, continuing until she said she could take no more.
I kissed up her belly before reaching a breast. Opening to devour one heavy globe, I slipped my fingers into her again. She moaned, and my eyes drifted up to her.
/>
“Again,” I demanded, before latching onto her breast once again. I sucked with fervor while fingers, slick with her desire, slipped in and out of her, working to bring her another release. I moved to her other breast and noticed her thighs squeeze together. She was close. I nipped her nipple and she broke. Her head fell back while her hips rolled forward, drawing my fingers deeper.
“That’s my Mouse. Let me in,” I said, as I stood to my full height. Her body shuttered, and I pulled my fingers from her, slipped them up her belly, circling her breast with fingers slicked in her own juices, marking her as mine.
“Do you feel good, baby?” She nodded as her head fell forward to rest on my shoulder. “I did that to you,” I said, beating on my own chest. “I want you to remember that. That was real, not imaginary.”
Her head snapped upward and her hand released from the bar of the bed. Not knowing her intention, I caught her wrist. I licked the inside, over the vein and then kissed her palm.
“This is real. And I’m not losing you again.”
+ +
The restaurant was busy. I stood near the bar in my suit, minus a tie, sipping my bourbon, attempting to pace myself while I waited. I didn’t want to leave her room without her, but I convinced myself I’d made my statement. We were real, and I wasn’t letting her go. My hands twitched, still fresh from the feel of her under my palms. My lips tingled with the soft pressure of her lips against them. The thought brought my dick to attention, and I knew it would be another long night.
She entered the room with silent grace, like she had the night before. Oh, Mouse, I thought as my eyes roamed her body in a dress that reminded me of the one she wore the night I asked her to share in my celebratory steak dinner. Loose-fitting and white, it cut straight across her breasts, some type of ruffled material holding them upright. The remainder of the dress flowed to the floor in a gauzy mass that I could see through in the right lighting. I’d already been between those thighs but I wanted more.
This night would be unbearable with all these people around us.
“If you eye her any further, you might mess yourself,” Abby said at my elbow.
I sputtered into my drink and reached for a napkin to dab at my shirt.
“Damn it, Abby,” I snapped.
“You’re eye-fucking her so hard, the whole room is getting turned on,” she snarled, slipping her hand through the crook in my elbow. “But just think how that headline will read—small not-for-profit earns money by sleeping with a millionaire.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hissed, but the moment I said it, I felt I’d betrayed Juliet. That’s exactly how things would look for her.
“She’s very pretty, in a quiet sort-of way. Something submissive and skittish about her personality, perhaps that’s her appeal.” Abby’s fist tightened in the fold of my arm. “But, of course, I’ve heard of your fetish. I know women who could give you so much more.” I glanced at Abby over my shoulder, her presence close enough to look attached to me. She spoke through a smile of gritted teeth. And she knew nothing. I might want control, I might want to dominate, but Juliet was all I needed. She was all I’d wanted for nearly two years.
I considered what she said about Juliet’s company, though. I didn’t want any kind of mark on her reputation. The Mouse Trap was small, but it was growing. People loved her story, and they trusted her product. She was doing good things with their money.
“Why would you say all this, Abby?”
“I’m just looking out for you. I wouldn’t want you to be taken advantage of. I don’t want her to use you for the money.” I slipped my arm out of Abby’s when I noticed Juliet eying us.
“She’s not like that, Abby.”
“How do you know?”
I paused. I didn’t know for certain. I’d known her less than three months, but I trusted her. I trusted that she wasn’t greedy like that.
“Interesting dissertation,” Abby scoffed. “She made fifty-thousand dollars off that scandal. It built her company, did you know that?”
I didn’t know that. I’d read the financials and knew she had start-up money. I didn’t bother to investigate the origin of the funds. More importantly, how did Abby know?
“Who says her dissertation was a scandal?”
“Who imagines a man, decides she can change the outcome of a situation, a rape no less, by controlling him after the fact?” Abby snorted. It sounded convoluted and impossible when said aloud.
“I don’t think that’s exactly how it happened,” I defended.
“Well, you can’t take back what’s been done. She’ll never get over it completely. She’ll never love because she’ll never trust. It’s rather sad.”
I didn’t like what Abby said, no more than I liked her tone. Juliet and I made great strides together in the past. I didn’t expect her to get over anything, but I did intend to show her that she could trust a man. She could love one, and I wanted that one to be me.
13
Juliet
Dinner was unbearable. My thighs were still damp from the aftereffects of his touch and the fact I couldn’t stop thinking of him. My core clenched and flexed with need. I wanted him to touch me again, and I almost excused myself from the dinner to go handle things myself. Yet each time I looked up, he was engaged in conversation with the blonde. Abby was her name, and I cursed at myself for being turned on just by being in the same room as him. Then he sat next to her at dinner. He didn’t ignore me, per se, but he spoke to everyone, almost forcing the conversation to be equal among the guests. I didn’t understand what was happening. Miller was better at this type of social chatter.
I excused myself as soon as it seemed acceptable. When Miller asked to walk me to my room, I accepted without another wasted glance at Tack. I’d lost my mind in my room, letting him put his mouth on me as he had. It had been so long since I’d felt the fingers of a man. Felt his fingers. I wasn’t in my right headspace. I have the power, I’d chanted to myself, but I gave it all to him when he tugged the towel off of me.
A strange flash of remembering my interest in the dominant/submissive culture, in particular, and the relationship portion of their treaty. It’s what got me in trouble at The Front Door club in the first place. I didn’t understand how women separated their emotions from their lover. I couldn’t keep my emotions from Tack. I recognized once before that he owned me because I cared for him, and I thought of that fucking little prince, as he called it. I had to let my memories go.
“Are you okay?” Miller asked, walking beside me with his hands in his pockets. His bright yellow shirt buttoned to the neck as he wore another bow tie despite the heat. We walked at a leisurely pace across the open expanse between the restaurant and the actual hotel rooms.
“Just a lot on my mind,” I said, looking up at the dark sky. The night was cloudless; the stars filling the black canvas. Low lights on the ground did not interfere with the full display overhead. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It’s almost like a fairy tale,” Miller said. “I can see how one might get swept up in a fantasy here.”
“I’m such a fool,” I said to the evening air. Miller stopped walking and turned to block my path.
“You aren’t a fool, Juliet. You’re lonely, and the man you’ve longed for is standing in a room drooling over you so badly he needs a bib.” I laughed at the thought. It wasn’t a good image. “But I’m worried you’re mixing memory with present day. It’s been a long time and things have changed. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I don’t want to get hurt either,” I said, expressing my own fear. I didn’t know who Abby was to Tack. I didn’t want to get in the way, or receive mixed signals, or take what wasn’t mine. Tack certainly wasn’t offering any promises or making any proposals or even talking beyond today. That’s how we had been before. We lived day by day, but Miller was correct. This is now.
“I’ll ask it again. Do we need the money this badly?”
Miller sighed
. “You know, when we left I thought, yes, yes we do. But Etty, you’re my best friend. One of my only friends, because Lord knows you can’t count my one-night-stands as friends. I love you, so nothing is more valuable to me than your heart, not even a million dollars. I don’t want to see you lose it again, because I’ve seen how long it took you to get where you are with both your headspace and your emotions.” I chewed on my lip as I listened.
“I love you, too. You’re all I have. You know that. We can go home and find another way,” I said, stepping toward him.
Miller shook his head. “It’d be a shame to leave early, though,” he hinted, raising an eyebrow, and I had to laugh.
“I’ll be careful,” I said, and I mentally promised on the spot I would not lose my head again.
And I didn’t, until later that night when Tack stood at the foot of my bed again. He was quiet, and I waited, sitting up to face him this time. He undressed in the dark, removing everything but his boxer briefs. He climbed up next to me and forced me to curl against him like we used to lay. I clutched his arm to my chest, as a strange vibe rolled off of him.
“It’s so dark without you,” he said and my heart skipped a beat at the words he once said to me. “You’re too far away at night.” I couldn’t help myself, I kissed his knuckles.
“Don’t leave me yet,” he whispered into my hair. “I’ll give you the money, no strings attached.”
I spun to face him, my brow pinching.
“Why would you say that?” I demanded. His eyes lowered.
“Too much talk. Too many thoughts. First Abby and then I heard you and Miller.”
I pressed back from him and he glanced at me.
“Who is Abby to you?”
“A friend, nothing more. A family friend. There is no interest other than that.” He reached for my jaw and cupped it like he does, but he didn’t tug me to him. “And Miller sounds like a good friend to you. He’s concerned about you, but I don’t want you to worry about money. I understand why you took the money for the dissertation. It’s okay.”