Mountain Man's Baby Plan

by Nikki Chase

Scadorable.

  I close the car door and stride into the clinic, my smile still pasted on my face. As Brian greets me and hands me a folder, I wonder if I may actually smile more than Brian this morning.

  I find it funny when men think women only want the fluffy stuff—you know, the roses, the chocolates, the bath supplies, and handwritten notes on Hallmark cards.

  I don’t know, though. Maybe most women actually want that. I’ve never dated a woman. What do I know about what other women want from their partners?

  Sure, I have girlfriends back in the city, but a girl’s not just going to come right out and admit she makes her boyfriend buy her a dozen roses every month or she’d blow a fuse. No way. She’d simply post pictures of those flowers on Instagram instead, maybe adding a cutesy “Thank you for the flowers, boo! <3” in the caption.

  That’s not what I want, though.

  What I want is exactly what Luca gave me last night. I’ve never had it before, and I didn’t even know it existed.

  I used to think there were two types of men: the nice ones and the mean ones. I decided the nice ones (like Martin) were boring, so I went to the mean ones, hoping they’d use me the way I needed to be used.

  I never thought someone like Luca could exist.

  Last night, he dominated me so completely I forgot everything else. My world was made up of extremes, of pain and pleasure. Nothing in between.

  After something like that, usually I’d expect a quick “thanks” as the guy zips up his pants and disappears.

  But the way Luca babied me last night after he fucked me …

  “Sarah …”

  The way he wrapped his arms around me and played with my hair until I fell asleep …

  “Sarah,” Brian says louder, jarring me back to reality.

  “What?”

  “Haven’t you been listening to me?” he asks.

  “Sorry, Brian. I was just … reading through this folder you gave me,” I say, lying through my teeth.

  “I said I found a camera hidden in the corner of that shelf. See?” Brian points at the floor-to-ceiling cabinet stretching across the wall behind the counter.

  I nod as my gaze lands on a little black electronic thing, about the size of an electrical plug.

  “Whoever put it there must know that we don’t use that shelf very often. I don’t know how long it’s been sitting there. There was some dust on it when I found it.” Brian picks up the camera and gives it to me.

  No doubt this is one of Luca’s little gadgets.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell Brian. “I’m sure it belonged to Peter. Maybe as he got sicker, he thought it would be a good idea to have someone keep an eye on him, even if they couldn’t be there with him.”

  “Oh, yeah. I didn’t think of that,” Brian says, his face a mixture of relief and sheepishness. “Sorry I made a big deal out of it.”

  “That’s okay. Better safe than sorry, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  I take the previously-hidden camera with me to the exam room. The little red light is still on. I wonder if that means Luca’s watching me and recording me right now.

  A thrill shoots down my spine, knowing Luca must’ve hidden more spy cameras, both in the lower floor where the clinic is, and the upper floor where I used to sleep.

  Technically, I still sleep upstairs because I haven’t officially moved in with Luca yet. It’s still a temporary arrangement at this point.

  Besides, I told Luca last night that I wasn’t going to bring feelings into this …

  I can’t help it, though. And he doesn’t need to know.

  As far as Luca knows, to me, our relationship is only physical. Oh, and we’re supposed to just be friends, too. Friends with benefits.

  So maybe I am developing more feelings for him. But it doesn’t matter. It’s okay if he doesn’t feel the same way about me.

  I mean, life is fleeting, and if I can only spend this one month with Luca … then so be it. That’s better than not at all, right?

  It feels like such a privilege to even know someone like Luca exists. It gives me hope. It makes me feel like maybe it’s possible for me to live a normal life.

  I denied that I had an addiction the first time Luca accused me. But deep down inside, I knew what I was doing wasn’t healthy.

  Even though I don’t go looking for dominant men online that often, Luca’s right: it only takes one mistake to ruin everything.

  It’s not that I didn’t agree with his assessment of me. I just couldn’t see any other way for me to be. I couldn’t imagine living and functioning normally without also needing to have anonymous sex with men who’d hurt me as they fuck me.

  But now I see the sex doesn’t have to be anonymous. And it doesn’t have to be with multiple different men.

  Maybe … Maybe I’m not too screwed up for a healthy relationship. It doesn’t have to be with Luca if he doesn’t want me in that way, but just knowing it’s possible for me is a revelation.

  “Brian found this today,” I tell Luca that night as we walk into his house. I take out the little camera from my bag.

  He takes it from my hand. Cocking an eyebrow, he says, “Maybe we can have some fun with this.”

  “Ooh … Sounds interesting.” I grin as my hand searches for the light switch. “Maybe later tonight we can use that.”

  “Later tonight?” Luca asks darkly. He grabs my arm. “You’re my doll, aren’t you?”

  I step backward until my back is right against the wall. The light switch is right beside my head. But with Luca caging me in, I can’t care about lighting.

  Besides, the yellow glow from the streets outside stream in through the blinds. There’s enough light for me to see Luca, looking all dark and dangerous.

  I nod.

  Luca leans one strong forearm on the wall and drags his thumb over my lips. “That means I can take you any time.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I say.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Anything you want, Sir.”

  “Are you sure, doll?” Luca whispers as he leans closer.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You don’t want me to be gentle, do you?” Luca asks in a mocking tone.

  “No, Sir.”

  “No. Gentle is not for people like you and me … is it?” he asks as he bites my neck.

  “No, Sir.” I let out a sigh as Luca’s hands roam all over my body.

  “Would you like to come, doll?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You will … But first, I want to see what that little mouth can do.” A wicked, lopsided smile curls on Luca’s lips. Metal clangs pierce the air as he pries off his belt buckle.

  I lick my lips as I watch Luca’s fly open, anticipating the taste of him. When I lift my gaze up, I notice he’s been observing me, too.

  This feels like the calm before the storm. I sense it in the air—every particle is vibrating with energy, as if nature itself is getting ready for something big.

  Then, as if time suddenly begins moving again, Luca’s hands are on my shoulders and I’m sliding down the wall. His hard cock brushes against me—my belly, my tits, my neck, and finally, my lips.

  Luca starts out gentle when he first sticks his cock in my mouth, but he doesn’t stop when he hits the back of my throat. He just keeps pushing inside me, so deep he bottoms out.

  With my throat stretched, Luca starts to fuck me mercilessly. My head would be banging loudly against the wall if it weren’t for his hands on the back of my skull, protecting me even as he abuses my throat and makes me gag on his cock.

  He’s giving me the darkness that I crave, and keeping me safe at the same time.

  Luca keeps going, sliding his cock in and out of my mouth. He doesn’t stop until his cock expands in my mouth and spurts out hot cum down my throat.

  He crouches down to level his gaze at me. “Good girl,” he says as he pets my head. Then, he gets up and starts to walk away.

  “Sir …?”
I call out in a small voice. My throat feels sore.

  Luca stops and turns around. His sharp stare makes my heart pound in my chest.

  “You said you were going to make me come …” I say, raising my gaze to meet his.

  “Yes. But I didn’t say when.”

  Dinner is torture. I can’t concentrate on the food when my pussy is throbbing, demanding attention. But Luca acts like nothing’s wrong, like we’re just sharing a meal as usual.

  This is frustrating.

  But it’s also hot as hell.

  My panties are so soaked I could probably wring out my juices—not that I’d try. I want him so much I can’t focus.

  Every once in a while, I catch Luca glancing at me and smiling to himself. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

  That night, while I lie in bed with my hand between my legs, Luca opens my bedroom door, catching me in the act.

  “Are you playing with yourself, doll?” It’s dark, but I can hear the smirk in his voice.

  “Yes, Sir.” My cheeks heat up from embarrassment, but I can’t deny I’m happy to see him here.

  “Are you sleeping naked like I told you to?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Get on the floor,” he says. “Get on your hands and knees, then stick your ass up.”

  I follow his directions. I bite my lower lip in anticipation as I listen to Luca’s breathing behind me.

  He crouches down, then he sticks one finger in my pussy, making me gasp. He pushes my head down on the floor. The carpet feels soft on my cheek.

  “You’re ready for me to fuck you,” Luca says as he lazily slides one lean finger in and out of me. It doesn’t feel like enough. I’m ready for something more.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Hmm … I kind of feel like going for a run now. Maybe I’ll leave you here to finish yourself off,” Luca says mockingly.

  My body burns with the shame of offering myself and being brushed aside. But I don’t care. “Please, Sir …” I say softly.

  My bedroom is silent for a few anxious seconds.

  Then, Luca speaks up.

  “I like it when you beg.” He grabs my hair and pulls. “Do it again.”

  “Please fuck me, Sir,” I repeat in a louder voice.

  “Good girl,” Luca says. I hear fabric rustling behind me, and I know he’s taking off his clothes.

  Luca grabs my hips and drives into me, hard. He gets rougher by the second, pulling my hair, pinching my nipples, and grabbing my neck.

  “Say I can do whatever I want to you,” Luca growls as his movements become urgent and frantic.

  “You can do whatever you want to me,” I say quickly in one breath.

  Luca pulls me against him and grinds into me, rubbing my insides deliciously, sending me into my own body-shaking orgasm.

  “You’re mine, and I can do whatever I want to you,” Luca whispers as I climax.

  I’m used to hearing and liking it when a man tells me he can do whatever he wants to me. But I’ve never liked it when a man tells me I’m his … until now.

  It used to make me feel imprisoned. But the way Luca says it makes me feel like I’m precious and treasured.

  He scoops me up with his strong arms, brings a warm towel to clean me, then spoons me as I fall asleep.

  Rough and gentle. Cruel and sweet. It’s an intoxicating combination, and I’m getting high on it.

  We fill our time together with painful, kinky, wonderful sex. It’s always new and exciting. Luca keeps coming up with new ways to push my limits.

  The next night, he makes me give him a blowjob while I fuck a dildo stuck on a full-length mirror. Every time Luca slips out of my mouth, the dildo glides deeper into my pussy. And every time the dildo slides out of me, Luca penetrates deeper into my mouth.

  After that, he ties me up in bed and smushes my head against the mattress as he fucks me, asking me if I “fucking like that.”

  Of course, the answer is always, “Yes, Sir.”

  But the longer this goes on … The longer I let Luca dominate my body, the harder it becomes for me to follow his order to keep my feelings out of this.

  I still don’t regret turning our relationship into a sexual one, but I dread the moment everything goes back to normal.

  How bad is the withdrawal going to be?

  What if I see Luca walking around town with some other girl on his arm?

  My chest tightens so much I struggle to breathe when I think about it.

  But I’m not going to tell Luca and ruin everything even sooner. I’m going to keep this a secret.

  Luca

  I need to be careful. She can’t ever find out about this.

  Slowly, I scoot toward the edge of the bed. As I pull the blanket up to cover her body, I catch a glimpse of the red marks around her wrists.

  I smile to myself in the darkness, remembering how I tied her up with my belt, lifted her up, and fucked her against the wall. Her face was contorted in ecstasy as she slid up and down to the rhythm of my thrusts.

  But now, she appears peaceful. There’s even a hint of a smile on her lips.

  I consider giving her a light kiss before I leave but I don’t want to wake her up. I can’t risk that.

  I gently pull out a drawer in the dresser and grab the little plastic bottles. I put everything in a backpack, keeping my eyes on Sarah the entire time.

  If she suddenly opens her eyes and asks questions, I won’t be able to explain this away.

  I sneak out of my room—we seem to always end up in the same bed lately.

  Sarah’s bag is on the coffee table in the living room, where I made her shed everything on her body earlier tonight.

  Crouching by the table, I unzip the main compartment and take out the keys.

  I cast a worried glance in the general direction of my bedroom.

  There’s nothing to worry about, though. She’s a pretty deep sleeper.

  There’s also an en-suite attached to my room. It’s not like she’s going to wake up in the middle of the night and wander out just to check her keys.

  I place Sarah’s keys in my backpack, put on my sneakers and head outside.

  I can take the car, but the engine might wake her up. Besides, because Sarah’s been taking up so much of my time, I haven’t had a chance to run lately.

  As my feet start to pound the pavement, I wonder if I haven’t remembered to run because I’ve been indulging in my other habit instead.

  With Sarah there to absorb all the aggression out of me, I’m no longer restless or anxious. I feel in control.

  I miss this feeling.

  Even though Sarah keeps telling me that she likes the way I fuck her, I can’t help but feel guilty, like I’m taking advantage of her.

  She’s younger than me; she’s grieving; and she’s vulnerable. These three things alone should be enough to deter a sane person.

  But not me. Those things don’t deter me.

  She’s even my best friend’s sister and I fuck her like she’s a real sex doll, like she’s just an object for me to use.

  I always try to make up for it afterward, but soon I get the urge to hurt her again, to use her body until it’s spent.

  Jesus, I can’t believe this. I’m getting hard just imagining those long legs spread under me, while I’m running. And we’ve just had sex, too.

  I swear, if this keeps up, soon my balls are going to be milked dry.

  At least I didn’t have a boner when I went to see Joe last week to get my supplies. I wouldn’t have been able to live that down.

  Joe and I used to hang out quite a bit when we were in prison. He’d agreed not to let anyone know about our meeting, but if there was a good story in it—like me popping a random boner—he might change his mind and blab.

  As I near the clinic, my heart thumps in my chest.

  I’m actually doing this. This is breaking and entering. It’s serious shit.

  It’s not like I was completely innocent before, but I’ve never stol
en … although what I’m about to do probably doesn’t count as stealing, seeing as I got Peter’s express permission. He just never got the chance to give me a copy of the keys himself.

  I shake my head to chase away the convoluted thoughts inside.

  I shrug off my backpack and unzip the front compartment.

  Act natural, I tell myself.

  Me going into the clinic in the dead of the night probably looks normal to most people. I’m always with Sarah anyway.

  Maybe she left a jacket, and she wanted me to come pick it up on my run. It’s possible. It’s probable. More likely, at least, than me breaking into a clinic that belongs to my late best friend.

  As the keys jangle, I wonder if the streets have always been this silent at night. Not even the air is moving. It’s like time’s standing still.

  It feels surreal.

  As I walk into the clinic and turn on the lights, I get the deep sense that even though this place is familiar, it’s different tonight.

  It could be because I’m carrying out the last wish of a dead man, or it could be because I’ve gone soft after too many years of living on the straight and narrow.

  The fluorescent tube lights buzz as I try the keys one by one. I hurry, but all my guesses are wrong. It’s only when I get to the last key that the door finally opens for me.

  It’s disheartening that I can’t even pick the right key out of five because soon I’ll have to identify a handful of bottles out of hundreds in there.

  The door creaks. Stepping into the drug storage room, I grimace as the smell hits my nostrils. This room reeks exactly the way I expected it to. I feel like I’m sick in bed.

  Once upon a time, though, this small closet would’ve felt like a massive candy store to me, stocked with all kinds of substances to make me feel whatever I want to feel. Life on demand.

  I check my phone. No message from Sarah—perfect. My muscles relax. For some reason I worry she’s going to find out her keys are missing, although there’s no reason why she’d even be awake.

  I scroll through the pictures on my phone until I find the one that Peter sent me a few months ago, probably about the same time he told Sarah not to come here.

  It takes me a while, but Peter left me straightforward instructions, and I eventually find the right bottles.

  I guess despite his issues, Peter still had a relatively clear mind at the time. Too bad he didn’t use it the right way.