What You Need

by Landra Graf

  “Oh, shit.”

  “What?” Victoria inched closer, ready to enter the room when the door opened. Her gaze connected with a gorgeous, muscled chest, smattered with brown hair. Perfect.

  “I forgot my bag.”

  A bag? She struggled to focus on his words. She still possessed all the arousal from their earlier escapade, and his naked, toned torso with its perfect pecs didn’t help. “No problem. I’ll get it.”

  Heading for the duffle, she searched for anything to get her focus off her horny-as-hell body. Question time. “So what have you been up to since college, Royce?”

  “I graduated, received the Bachelor’s in Marketing I wanted. I got a job with a good company in the area and I’m a manager now.”

  Holding the bag, she wheeled around and caught Royce’s vacant expression. Something about his response rang false. “Tell the truth. This is me you’re talking to.”

  He laughed. “I hate it. The job. Playing babysitter to a bunch of people. I mean, not all the employees are bad. It’s the fact I’m not the hard-ass meant for the role. Upper management likes to think I am, but I don’t think my employees are fooled.”

  “Why don’t you quit?” She extended the duffle toward him.

  “It’s not that easy. The job pays the bills and I’m responsible for more than just me.”

  Her stomach tightened. She’d specifically requested someone with no attachments. “A kid?”

  “No. Aunt Maude.”

  “You mean you’re still at home?” The thought terrified her. Victoria wouldn’t be caught occupying the same space as her own family for more than thirty minutes. The tightness disappeared, and she gave a silent thanks. If there’d been a woman or child waiting for him, she would’ve been…devastated? The thought sent nervousness creeping back into her gut.

  “Are you going to be like everyone else?” Royce looked her over, eyebrow raised. She’d obviously hit a nerve.

  “Like how?”

  “Judging me for living at home? I get grief from a few co-workers, some of the neighbors. People think I can’t make it on my own, in my own place.”

  She shrugged. “They’re assholes.” But she wanted to know the reason. Though she’d been surprised to hear he still lived at home, he must have one.

  “Maude had a stroke about a year ago. I moved in to be there for her. Especially after Grandma—”

  “Grandma?” Victoria’s shoulders slumped. Royce’s grandmother had acted as her second mom—a supportive mom. Her decisions to cut those close to her out of her life had come with too many painful costs.

  “She had a heart attack. Maude was outside and I didn’t make it in time. Bottom line: after the stroke, I needed to be there as much as I could be. I don’t want to risk not having a chance to say good-bye.”

  She brushed his cheek. “I understand.” Then she leaned in and kissed him. The duffle between them made things awkward, but she wanted to convey her apologies. He’d never been given a chance to say good-bye to her, either, and any guilt she held could be laid at her feet along with her misguided justifications about keeping her friend in the dark about her life.

  He pulled back and gave a small grin, part innocence and part pure delight: a magical picture. God, she wished she could bottle those smiles.

  “I’m going get that shower now.” He shut the door, his need for privacy obvious. The night wouldn’t be simple. At all.

  She plopped onto the bed with a sigh. The soft mattress and satin sheets were cool next to her bare back, a balm to soothe the internal freak-out. She was in deep. If the pre-shower blow job and conversation gave any indication of how the night would go, mindless sex would be placed at the bottom of the list. Every moment she spent with Royce gave him another chance to make her stern resolve never to cry again over the past crumble. She eased her feet out of the high heels.

  One night. She needed to remember that. Nothing more than a chance to act out the fantasy she’d always held close to her heart. But the surprise of a lifetime; Royce wanted her, sexually. Back in college, the fantasy involved a sweet night under the stars with a bit of wild picnic fun. Not the pure erotic pleasure she got from restraining him and watching the look of desire glaze over his eyes, with his cock at her mercy, while he gripped the bedpost. Damn.

  The memory of her last stay came unbidden. Victoria jumped from the bed as the shower came on and grabbed the room service book on the desk. Being alone with her thoughts let the memories of the forced intercourse, bruises and marks along her body, and the fake apologies the asshole had given about having too much to drink surface. She flipped through the menu pages, forcing the awful recollection away. Stuck between anxiousness, the butterflies in her stomach, and arousal that wouldn’t subside, she needed release. The best solution: get some relief before answering Royce’s questions.

  Chapter Two

  “Hey Vic—” Royce caught sight of Victoria on the bed—her head thrown back, dress hiked, legs spread, and a pair of fingers rubbing her clit—and he forgot what he’d started to say. His cock rose to immediate attention behind his silk lounge pants. Somehow, seeing her completely uninhibited by his presence aroused him as much as her restraining him had.

  “Come here.” Her voice, low and husky, filled him with a need to please her. To bring her to the same satisfaction she’d brought to him. Yet, their plans were changing again.

  Moving forward, he sat next to her, sliding his thumb to mingle with her moist heat, her juices coating it. “I thought we were going to talk.”

  “Oh.” She moaned and pushed her hips forward. “Yes, talking is in the plan, but right now, Royce, I need your mouth on my pussy. No argument. You want to know about anything prior to tonight, you’re going to have lick me.”

  Goose flesh broke out on his arms. The tantalizing scent of her arousal hung in the air between them, a summer breeze mixed with spice. “I’d be honored.”

  He’d experienced his most comfortable sexual moments since entering the room. There lay a chance to reward her for them and create more. He spread her legs further.

  “Stop,” Victoria said, her arm a sudden barrier between his face and her clit.

  He halted. What the hell?

  “Lie down first.” A smile played over her lips. She planned something devious. Something involving two pieces of silk fabric half the length of him dangling from her grip.

  “All right.” He fell back.

  “Is this what you meant by ordering room service?” Royce asked with a grin.

  She laughed, tying his first wrist to the headboard behind him. “Consider this an appetizer.”

  “I never thought it would be like this with you.”

  “What do you mean?” She secured the second fabric strip until both hands were firmly tied to the headboard.

  “Every minute is more exciting and surprising then the last. You’re not afraid of taking action, and I feel comfortable, not awkward.”

  She beamed. “I’m glad you like everything so far. But you’ve had some experience before, right?”

  Normally he would’ve avoided bringing up his failed BDSM situations, but he wanted her to know everything. Hiding things wouldn’t make conversation between them any easier and she needed to know he wouldn’t be afraid of words, of confessions.

  “My last experience ended with the woman running from my house, calling me a pervert, and leaving me handcuffed to my bed without the key.”

  “That’s horrible.” She caressed his cheek and swung one leg over his chest. “Seems you’ve had a run of bad luck. I can’t say I’ve been any luckier in the scene. I think things are looking up tonight though. You need to pick a safeword.”

  Safeword. He’d chosen one long ago, but had never needed to use it. It wouldn’t work in their situation anyway. “My safeword is Tori.”

  “What?” Her process of straddling his body halted. “My nickname is your safeword?”

  Did his confession offend her? Regardless, he wouldn’t apologize for hi
s feelings or the truth. “Yes, it is. Back when I’d first decided to learn more about me and the whole D/s scene, I was instructed to pick a word I associated with feeling safe. One that wouldn’t be confusing to others. I’d always felt safe with you.”

  She pulled away and sat beside him.

  Unloading everything on her when she’d been seeking release could be viewed as an asshole move. Yet, eight years had provided plenty of perspective to think about Victoria and what she’d meant to him. Losing her, letting her cut off their friendship, had eaten a hole in his heart. The hole seemed to be healing with each passing minute and every word shared, but he’d need more than a blow job and halfhearted conversation to seal the deal. The guys would call him a bitch for being so in tune with his feelings. Fuck it. He didn’t care. She needed to know the importance of their friendship, to know what she meant to him.

  “I won’t apologize for telling you how I feel, but it’s true. You saved me from the awkwardness of school dances, mentored my first date, and made me feel like I was normal when I didn’t have a father around to guide me through manly pursuits. Hell, Victoria, you taught me how to shave.”

  She put her back to him. Head shaking, she exhaled, whether in disbelief or anger, he couldn’t tell.

  He tugged at the restraints, but his arms didn’t budge. Damn, he needed her to look at him. “Please say something. I’m not trying to make this evening uncomfortable, but I can’t lie to you. I’ve never been able to.”

  “When I’m trying to keep this night tear-free….” She regarded him with wet tracks on her cheeks. “When I think I’ve got you figured out, you blow a hole in my understanding of us. This whole evening, you’ve been doing that. Tonight is about enjoying the possibilities of intimacy…sex, between us. Hell, I can’t believe you stayed, and I don’t want to waste the opportunity.” Her next words were barely above a whisper. “I told you I wouldn’t avoid this conversation, but right now?”

  When she faced him once more, fear had entered her eyes. He didn’t know where it came from, but he wanted to get rid of it. He also hoped he wasn’t responsible for her fear. His gut clenched at the possibility. Prodding her for a reaction wouldn’t work. He kept insisting on explanations and words to assuage his emotions of being away from her so long. “I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

  She wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “Be patient. Let me get us back on track and plan on never having to use that safeword.” Determination and authority laced the reply, her words a decree, not a suggestion.

  Victoria took a deep breath. Torn between arousal and a rising fear of what Royce would think about her confessions and her decisions following his rejection, she wanted to use the release to forget. Every moment spent in his company proved her heart wouldn’t pass the night unscathed. He didn’t seem to get it, didn’t seem to understand he’d been her world, her lodestone up until the rejection. “Close your eyes.”

  Royce followed her directions, lowered his lids and wet his lips. A fresh rush of liquid moistened her clit. Reaching release would be her reward, and she’d be damned before his feelings would wound her or keep her away from completion. She refused to let pain over her past decisions interfere with the moment either. He needed to pay her back for dragging up orgasm-reducing memories.

  “Consider this the expense for your confession and taste.” She straddled his head, lining her pussy with his mouth to receive his services. The first lap of his tongue sent a shudder up her spine. She stopped short of vocalizing how good it felt, but that didn’t stop Royce. His low groan of pleasure echoed through her body and he twisted his head, nipping at the inside of her thigh.

  She laced her fingers with his and ground her pussy against his mouth. He began a fast, in-and-out motion with his tongue. With every lift of her hips, he flicked her clit. If he kept going, it would be over in minutes. Lifting away from his face, she watched him move his head, stretching his neck in a desperate attempt to connect with her center again.

  “Should I allow you the pleasure of my orgasm?”

  “Please,” Royce begged. “I need it.”

  Victoria chuckled. “You need it?”

  “Yes. I would kill to taste you again. Delicious.”

  The words were exactly what she needed to hear, the strain in his voice making her want to draw out the torture a little longer. He still kept his eyes closed, and a pout formed on his lips. To drive that look, the craving he had for her release, ignited frenzy in her blood. He amazed her, wanting her in any way she deigned to give. She sat on his face again, and he returned to licking, nibbling, and worshipping her pussy until she arched her back. Her mind blanked with the force of her release. Legs locked and numb, she tried to sustain the feeling of sensual abandon. She growled as he made another assault on her sensitized flesh and a jolt of pure bliss raced through her. This is divine.

  She barely possessed enough strength to untie Royce’s bonds before sinking onto the bed beside him. Sated and still in the afterglow, she stretched out on the satin sheets. She wanted the rest of the night to feel that way; no deep emotion, just the pure wonder of release, and the endorphins that came with it. So why did she feel a sudden tug of hurt when he rose from the bed without looking at her? Refusing to give into an evaluation of the feelings, she turned to her side, ready to issue another command to her one-night submissive.

  “Roy—” A knock at the door cut her off.

  ***

  Royce mumbled a thank-you to the hotel employee and shut the door fast. He eyed the trays that lined the serving cart along with a pitcher of water and a couple of Bud Lights. “What did you order?”

  “Our favorites.” Victoria’s melodic voice floated through the bathroom door, a definite ego boost for his oral skills. “Fried pickles. Caesar salad. Prime rib with loaded baked potatoes.”

  His stomach rumbled. They were their favorites all right. Another thing that made them a perfect fit: similar food tastes. Perfect fit? He pushed the thought aside. Perfect friends maybe, but forgiving the last eight years would take more than oral sex and delicious food.

  He lifted the dome off a serving platter, revealing an abundance of fried dill slices and a bowl of ranch dressing in the center. “Damn, they smell delicious. Vic, you have to try one.”

  He dipped one in the dressing then touched the battered goodness with his tongue to ensure they weren’t too hot. A crunch of seasoned breading and thin-sliced pickle greeted his taste buds, as much of an aphrodisiac as Victoria’s arms rubbing his shoulders when she stepped beside him. Dunking another pickle, he brought it to her mouth. A quick nip with her teeth and the treat disappeared, but not before a dribble of ranch fell between her breasts. His cock began to stir as she gently sucked his fingers. Answering her challenge, he leaned down to lick and taste the spot where the sauce had landed.

  “I’m ready for something sweet.” She moaned. “Luckily, I’m dessert.”

  “At the rate this is going, we’d better slow down.” Royce smiled at the light blush on her skin. “I’d hate for the food to go cold.”

  “Always thinking with your stomach.”

  “Not this time.” Sliding his arms around her waist, he pulled her close, loving how her body molded to his.

  But half the night had passed and they’d only skimmed the surface of his fantasies. Anger over the past or not, he wanted to see the date through to the end. Wanted to explore the lengths of the desire he couldn’t deny. “I think we need to replenish our energy, and you’re going to need plenty if you’re my dessert.”

  Chapter Three

  Stuffed. The only word to describe her belly. Every morsel Royce fed her tasted delicious, and unless he gave her a bite first he didn’t get one: a wonderful game. Victoria had taken advantage of flicking his chest with her mini flogger across the little dining table every time he licked his fingers or presented a bite of something she didn’t want. But anger never entered his eyes, just pure lust, desire, and something else she didn’t want
to identify. He seemed more keyed up as the meal went on, until she became too full to continue.

  He ate freely, savoring each bite, and she wished for a larger stomach. A ton of food still remained.

  She crossed her legs, allowing her robe to droop open and show her nude body underneath. “Have you always known?”

  “My submissive preferences?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think I thought of them in the sexual realm, but I wasn’t like other guys. I didn’t want to fight like little boys do. I was more concerned with getting along with others and having friends. Why?”

  Victoria laughed. “I remember you always wanted to play cops and robbers, except I had to play the robber because you wanted to be the bank manager getting tied up.”

  “I enjoyed every situation where you took control. I was more than happy to follow along.” He stuffed a bite of baked potato into his mouth.

  Yes, happy to follow along until she’d tried to kiss him at the college party. He’d driven her home out of friendly duty and then she took things to a level he couldn’t commit to.

  “So, your proclivities were why you pushed me away?”

  “Yes, partially,” he whispered. A swig of beer, another forkful of food, and she waited for his response, though she wanted to demand it. “I said some horrible things I wish I hadn’t, but you were more experienced then I was in the sexual game. Sure, I knew the basic mechanics, but I couldn’t sustain arousal with simple foreplay and an insertion routine. To admit those things to you would’ve been beyond embarrassment, or make you think I was some disgusting pervert.”

  She snorted. “Really? Maybe you don’t realize what you were to me.”

  But looking back, she understood the reason for his rejection. Admitting his true persuasion would’ve been difficult. Hell, he’d probably refused to embrace it any further at that point.