“You’re not exactly Mr. Warmth, Drake. If I’d known he had questions about it I could’ve talked to him myself.”
“Think he sees me as a big brother.”
“More like a Dad.” Parker laughed.
“Blow me.” Drake leaned against the butcher’s block, continuing to punch information into his phone. “He just started asking me about it, one day. We were in line for a movie of all places.”
“Sounds like a kid all right,” Parker said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, not the best place. Still, what he asked was surprising.”
Parker looked at him again.
“He asked the right questions, Park. I think he’s interested. He knows … some of what it’s about.”
Parker had wondered about it since Drake had suggested it the first time. The possibility of sharing a submissive … and bringing Erik in on it as well. At first he’d written it off as an upset Drake not really thinking though what it might mean. The trouble with Kimber had just started to get worse. Then Parker had thought about it some more. The idea of training Erik did actually have some appeal, if they could find the right woman. He guessed that Drake had hopes Kimber might work out (and not just for that reason), but Parker knew that she would have been nothing but a pain in the ass.
Erik deserved to learn the ropes (so to speak) with a real woman. A real submissive. Not some flighty gold digger who liked the occasional bottom warming. If things had gone a different way, Sandra would have been a good candidate. Maybe she hadn’t really gone that far with Parker once they’d parted, but he knew she had the way of it. A woman who could be guided down that path, the right way.
“Lets talk about it with him when he’s back next week,” Parker said. “I still don’t even know what we have here yet, so I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves.”
Drake grunted, and walked into the foyer, pulling his dark coat on. “Going down to Wenatchee. You feel like riding along?”
Parker thought about it. Saturdays usually saw Drake heading out shooting or watching college football. A trip to Wenatchee was unusual. He could think of only one reason Drake would head that way.
Parker glanced out the window. Then his expression darkened and he stared at Drake. “Who are we visiting?”
Drake’s brow furrowed. “It’s not Kimber. Just picking up a few things. Not that it’s any of your fucking business.”
“Oh, in that case, I’m in. Let me get a shower and we can roll.”
Drake opened the front door, the coolness of the morning air flooding the entryway.
“Hey, Drake? I just got an idea.”
Drake looked back over his shoulder, frowning. “Oh shit, here we go.”
“Go find Jed for me , will ya? He’s coming with us too.”
“Why the hell are we bringing the dog?”
Parker beamed. “Need his opinion on something. I’ll be out in a few.
Chapter Eight
Ashley felt like an idiot after that dinner she’d had with all of them. So she kept her distance, always mindful of one of her favorite aphorisms from Mark Twain: “It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid rather than to open it and remove all doubt.”
What a way to make a first impression with them. But she kicked herself for even thinking that way. Why did she think she even needed to make an impression? She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, was she?
She feared she was probably kidding herself if her answer to that question was ‘no’.
So she immersed herself in trying to get her life back together. Working for something, achieving, striving. Those were all laudable things — especially in the service of helping to get her out of her own head.
One of the hidden benefits of working in real estate, were the number of places you got to visit, the little corners of the world she’d never otherwise see. Every town had them, and Chelan was no different. The one place that most touched her though, the place she came back to often, was the memorial on the south shore of Lake Chelan.
In 1945, a school bus carrying more than a dozen children had skidded off of the road during a snowstorm, and slid into the icy waters off the south shore. Only a handful of the kids on board, along with one adult, escaped with their lives. The bus was eventually recovered from a rocky ledge, a couple hundred feet below the surface, with some of the dead, including the bus driver, still inside. What bothered her the most was that some of the bodies were never found, forever lost to the lake that was over a thousand feet deep in places. The thought of that accident haunted her, and it was evident that it still haunted the town of Chelan more than sixty-five years later.
Ashley couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes as she’d stood by that monument, the noise of the traffic on the road behind her lost to her perception, watching the placid waters of the lake, knowing that some of those babies were never found. She’d never had children, but she didn’t know how she’d ever be able to go on after losing a child, let alone two. Some of the dead were lost with their siblings.
A hand clasped her shoulder and she jumped in her chair. Her boss Debbie smiled down at her, a cup of coffee in her hand.
“You have a call waiting for you,” she said, setting the cup down on Ashley’s desk. She had really gotten lucky with Debbie. Ashley had told her new manager some of why she’d suddenly relocated out west, but not all of it. Debbie was sympathetic and kind — two great attributes to have in a boss.
Ashley punched her phone line. “Ashley Dietrich, how can I help you?”
“You could help me by keeping me company on Friday.”
She was stunned for a moment. Who was it? Her heart raced momentarily, thinking maybe Terry had found her number. Found her. Then she had it.
“Parker? Hi.” She winced at the uncertainty she let slip into her voice.
Of course it’s him, you idiot.
“I need to talk to you. Someone else answered the phone. Are you somewhere you can talk?”
“Ah, not really.” She looked over toward Debbie’s office door. It was wide open, and she could hear her boss typing away within. “I’m sure it’s fine, though. What do you need to talk about? You raising my rent?”
“It’s about last Friday. What happened after dinner.”
“Oh.” Her heart began to gallop. Did something happen? She didn’t remember anything, but then being piss drunk tends to fog one’s memory of events.
“I have something to ask of you. A proposal, of sorts.”
Ashley stood up, cursing as she banged her knee on the drawer of her desk. “Damn! Okay, let me step outside and find someplace. This office is rather, um, cozy.”
She didn’t think Debbie would listen in, but the place was so cramped, she knew she’d probably be able to hear everything whether she wanted to or not.
There was a small park across the street, not much more than a jungle gym and slide, with a few benches. It would have to do, and since it was deserted at midday on a school day, there’d be nobody around. She plopped down on one of the benches, the crisp, cool air making her regret not bringing her hot coffee.
“What’s up. Parker? I had fun last Friday. Thank you again for inviting me. I’m sorry I haven’t—”
“I want you to have dinner with me Friday night, but there’s something we should talk about first.”
She was about to tell him to slow down, that he was being just a tad presumptuous. He hadn’t even asked her if she wanted to go! Her feminism was showing, but she knew deep down it didn’t matter. She’d say yes, and go anyway. Because he wanted her there.
“Ashley, I need to be straight with you here. I’m too old for games or dancing around things.”
“Okay.”
“I’m attracted to you. Very attracted to you.”
She felt her mouth go dry, and a giddy sense of elation build in her. She tamped it down ruthlessly.
Keep it cool, girl.
“I think you feel the same about me. I want to see if there’s something there, someth
ing between us. Are you willing to see if there is?”
Arrogant jerk. Arrogant 100% correct jerk. She licked her lips, trying to get them to moisten.
“Umm. Parker maybe we—”
“Are you attracted to me, Ashley?”
He wasn’t letting her hem and haw over this one. Dammit.
“Yes,” she whispered, blushing, grateful that there was nobody else around to witness it. “Parker, it’s not that simple though.”
“You seem to enjoy reminding me of that, Ashley.”
She could sense the smile in his voice. He was pleased, and it helped to momentarily ratchet down the tension she felt stealing into her limbs. She crossed her legs, feeling the cold of the autumn air on her inner thighs. She needed to rethink skirts for this late in the year.
“I just got out of a relationship.” She rubbed her temple with her fingertips. She had no reason to be embarrassed by this, but she was nonetheless. Why couldn’t she just get the fuck over it and go on with her life?
You know why.
“And?” His voice was even, the inflection giving nothing away.
“I … look, I need to be honest with myself here. I don’t want to be rebound girl. You know what I mean?” She shivered as a gust of wind blew the chill up her shirt. Definitely pants tomorrow.
“What makes you think I might be just a rebound? Because you just broke up with someone?”
“Maybe. I just — I’m not sure of anything anymore, Parker. I like you, I really do. I just don’t want to screw things up.”
“As long as you’re honest, you can’ screw anything up. You worry too much, you know that?. I think you need somebody else to start worrying for you. Now, I want you to listen to this.”
Ashley stilled at his words. She wasn’t sure whether to tell him to go fuck himself or rattle off a ‘Yes, Sir’. She knew which one her brain wanted to choose; other parts of her body didn’t agree with that choice.
“I’m a sexual dominant.”
Of all the things she thought he’d say, that one was not even close. She could feel her pulse pounding at the hollows of her collarbones.
“I have a need to control. I’m looking for a submissive who needs that control. I’m done with vanilla relationships. I want that submissive, and life is too short to not go after what I want. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
She’d never heard him like this. It was completely unlike who she’d gotten to know. But then it started to fall into place. The little things, subtle hints. The way he looked at her when she’d dropped by to see the house a little early. The way he stood a little too close to her, looming, crowding her space that first time they’d met. He was probably looking to see if she’d step back, avert her gaze.
She’d done neither.
“I think so, Parker. I need—”
“Do you think this is something you might want to explore?”
She sat forward on the bench, curling her body slightly over herself. It was a ridiculous display of self consciousness, but at that moment it felt like the entire town must be looking at her. Judging her. Labeling her as the slut she felt like just at the thoughts his words were eliciting within her.
She knew she was stupid to even be considering it. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Way to go, Ashley. Her body wasn’t listening as usual. Her nipples were hard as stones against the knit cotton top she wore — and it wasn’t just because of the cool breeze. She was thankful she’d chosen to wear the suit jacket that morning.
“Ashley, answer me please.”
“Parker … “
“You’re worrying too much again. Yes, or no?”
She sighed. “Yes.”
Ashley could almost feel the tension slacken over the line. Maybe it was just her body relaxing, resigning itself to the possibilities. Something she thought she’d never want again, never want to even think about.
Her moistening pussy was telling a different story.
Parker continued. “The Barham Winery in Entiat. Do you know where that is?”
“I think so.” She swallowed. “Few minutes north of Wenatchee?”
“That’s right. I’m going to give you a choice. You can follow my direction, or you can choose not to.”
She was silent, warring within herself on whether or not to back out.
“Do you have any dresses?”
“What?”
“Listen, Ashley,” he said, his voice deeper. “Do you own any dresses?”
“Uh, I have a black one, yeah. Why?”
“I’ll be at the restaurant at the Barham Winery, Friday evening. I want you there at nine o’clock, wearing your black dress.”
“Okay.” She was disgusted with herself. She should’ve said something, anything, but that.
“If you have heels, I want you in them. I’d like you to wear your hair up, and no make-up. You don’t need any.”
“Parker, why are you saying this? What’s going on here?”
“A choice, Ashley. A little test. If you follow my directions then I’ll know you’re serious about seeing where this could go.”
She felt an absurd blush return again, and she defiantly turned her chin up into the cool wind, willing the heat to recede. She was acting like a fucking schoolgirl. But his words had an effect on her, whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not.
“What if I don’t, Parker? What happens then?”
“Then nothing. We will have nothing.”
“Just landlord and tenant? As if we never had this conversation?” She was shaking her head. This was not even in the realm of possibility for her. He had to be kidding,
“Something like that, Ashley. If you don’t, then we can’t.”
“Look, Parker, maybe we could just have lunch or something? No pressure, take it easy on the new girl?”
“No.”
“Parker, wait. What if I can’t do this? Could we just go back to being friends?”
There was a pause on the line, then she heard Parker sigh. “Every time I look at you I know I could never be just friends with you. Nine o’clock, Ashley. I’ll be there, and I hope you will be too.”
There was click as the line went dead.
She banged the cell phone against the side of her head, and she grit her teeth, “Not again, not again, dammit!”
She didn’t know whether she wanted to throw her phone into the street or jump for joy.
***
The last box. It had taken her more than two weeks to unpack — and she’d packed almost nothing in her mad dash across the country. She folded the box and stashed it in the kitchen to go out with the garbage.
Finally, maybe it was home after all.
Ashley sat on the bed, crunching into an apple, and checked her e-mail. She wasn’t quite sold on doing everything through her smartphone yet; she still occasionally cracked open the old laptop for nostalgia’s sake. Even as far away as she was from his house, Parker’s wireless LAN was still loud and clear, so why not?
She didn’t know why she bothered anymore. Porn spam, “follow me on Twitter” come-ons from hookers (or more likely a 14 year old paid “phisher” in Kiev), and barrages of ads. Her e-mail was a wasteland. She hadn’t checked it since she’d fled, afraid of what she’d find. So why did she feel a vague sense of being let down at the fact that there was nothing from Terry? What did she expect? Some groveling missive from him professing his everlasting love? Begging for her forgiveness?
Yeah fucking right, Ashley.
Then she saw it. It was an e-mail from Parker.
She remembered his e-mail address from the listing on the house. Maybe he wasn’t some wannabe Dom after all? She still wasn’t going to just do whatever he told her to. Attraction or not she was determined to never again be a doormat.
She opened it, trying to ignore the anticipatory race of her pulse.
“I know you’re thinking it over. Don’t think, just do. Don’t forget my instructions.
See you Friday.
&n
bsp; Parker”
The address and directions to the winery were included below, but she didn’t read all of it. She wanted to throw the damned apple through her window. Was she that transparent? How the hell would he know?
Her irritation didn’t make him wrong.
“What in God’s name are you doing, Ashley? Come on!” She got up and paced along the bed, raising her arms up in the air as she talked. She knew anybody watching her would probably think she wasn’t quite playing with a full deck.
“You shouldn’t be jumping in the sack with some dude, no matter what Tara says. You should be talking to a therapist, not wondering what Parker’s ass looks like under those jeans.”
It was hopeless.
She had the perfect solution though: the bottle of Chardonnay on the kitchen counter.
A half an hour and two glasses later, she pulled open her drawer, looking at herself in the mirror. She held the dress up to her chest, wondering.
She pumped a self-satisfied fist in the air as she looked at her reflection. It still fit! Hell, it even seemed a little big on her now.
The guilt and sorrow diet does wonders for the waistline, Ash.
Truth be told she was probably getting a little too thin, despite her belief that there really was no such thing. She turned and craned her head around to see the back. It used to be quite snug around her generous hips. It was by no means loose now, but it had lost that hint of being less than demure that was part of the initial attraction for her.
Guess it was time to hit Mickey Ds after all, as Tara instructed.
“This is stupid,” She pulled the dress back over her head. “You’re not doing what he tells you to do.”
She decided that she’d just go over to the house on Thursday to talk to Parker. No, she wasn’t ready for a new relationship, but damn he was a fine looking man. It didn’t mean something might not happen eventually. Yes, she’d march over to that house and let him know that she had indeed”been there, done that,” thank you very much.
Oh, who was she kidding? She’d probably never make it as far as Parker anyway. Mr. Dark would probably answer the door, flash that million watt grin of his, and she’d be curled up at his feet. Literally.
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