“So?” he prompted.
“So what?” she countered.
“So, you need to call your mom soon. You can’t let this thing between you two linger over the holiday. You’ll feel like shit.”
“She probably already has plans,” she grumbled.
“That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t drop them in a heartbeat if you told her you wanted to spend it with her.”
“My mother enjoys Thanksgiving about as much as the Yankees enjoy losing to the Sox in September.”
David shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not about her. This is about you. Call her or I’m going to spank you,” he teased.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said, sliding closer to him. Leaning into him, she settled into the curve where his neck met his shoulder and started sucking on his skin – skin that whispered of mint and rain.
“Ask and ye shall receive,” he pledged. She hadn’t sucked on a man’s neck since early college, and she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed the act. Too often she’d focused on the parts men preferred she focus her intentions on. Tonight, he was content to let her suck away, with alternating lips and delicate love bites.
“You ready to move back to your bedroom?” he asked as he arched his neck, granting her even greater access to the strong column of his throat, as though asking her to place her lips right at that spot.
She pulled away to whisper in his ear, “You’re the boss, aren’t you?” and then went back to spoiling his neck.
“Damn right I am.” Hoisting her up, he carried her to the section of her loft that functioned as her bedroom. Setting her down in front of her bed, he ordered, “Get naked.”
God, he turned her on. Two words combined with her arousal after simply sucking on his neck and she was about to detonate on contact. Slowly, she drew her shirt over her head, drawing it out longer than necessary because she knew he loved her chest. Loved her whole body in fact and vocalized his appreciation every time they were together. His eyes flashed when she revealed her breasts. She let her finger linger on her pants zipper, seeing how he’d react.
“Get naked means butt-ass naked, Calleigh. Lose your bra and pants now.”
She smiled at him as heat and blood rushed to her center. Her body expanded to accept him as she drew the zipper down. She stepped out of her slacks, leaving her in only her navy bra, trimmed in pink lace, and matching thong panties.
“On second thought, keep the bra, lose the panties,” he ordered as he completely removed his shirt, slacks and underwear, his cock standing tall, ready for her.
She did and placed her hands on her hips, waiting.
“Anything you want to say?” he asked.
“I’m glad you asked. I bought something. For us. It’s in the closet, right hand side next to my boots.”
He went to her closet, opened up the door and found exactly what she intended him to. The brown flogger was medium size, perfectly equipped to reach the juiciest parts of her backside. She’d purchased it as her way of showing him that this worked for her. This was a part of their life together. A part she wanted to contribute to as much as his dominant side would allow.
He examined it in his broad hands, turning it over, running it over his hands as he considered the wood work, length, and thickness.
“You sure you know what this is used for?’ he asked as he began to smack it softly against the fleshy part of his palm.
She nodded.
“Turn around, bend over, and place your hands on your knees.”
She did so, deliberately widening her stance as she knew he preferred.
“I like your bra, Calleigh. You wear navy well,” he complimented as he began stroking the globes of her rump. Squeezing, pleasing her.
Thwack. The first strike surprised her, undoubtedly an intentional act. It burned for a second before he landed the second one. With each consecutive strike, her ass heated up, practically burning her in the hottest, sexiest way.
The strikes stopped for a brief moment. Then she felt the handle at her center.
“You want it, Calleigh?” he asked as he bent over her back, his heat enveloping her as he teased her with the blunt handle of the flogger.
“I want whatever you want for me,” she confirmed, refusing to move against it as her body screamed to do. Good subs waited for direction, trusting their partners to give them what they needed and what they wanted.
What they earned.
“Ahhh, atta girl,” he whispered, stroking his fingers up the crease of her spine as he moved the flogger’s handle back and forth, creating friction at her center. He loved to torment her, tease her until the brink where she didn’t think she could stand it anymore. Then, at exactly the right second when her entire body felt as though it was about to implode, he’d reward her with release.
“Calleigh?” he asked, withdrawing the flogger while his heat enfolded her.
“Yes?”
“I want to try something new with you.”
She remained silent, not moving despite an impatient desire to rock her body against his.
“Do you want to know what it is?” he asked.
“Only if you want to tell me,” she breathed.
His strokes continued their warm assault on her back while her nipples puckered, their aroused state unsatisfied and slightly petulant.
“How about if I show you instead,” he offered as he took her hips in his hands, turning her around to face him. His face was darkly flushed, as though his arousal was coursing through him at the same frantic pace it sang through her veins. It excited her that his excitement matched hers, peaking when they were together. She tried to ignore any thoughts of his other partners who came before her, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself from speculating about them. Their looks. If they were sexier than she was. They certainly had to have amassed a lot more experience than she could ever hope to have. If they pleased David more than she did with their knowledge, their moves, their submission. Pushing those thoughts far out of her mind, she focused on the male in front of her.
Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders and said, “On your knees.”
Complying, she sunk to her knees never breaking eye contact with him.
“Remove your bra and cup your breasts for me, Calleigh,” he instructed.
Her breasts felt heavy in her hands, the nipples proudly erect, waiting.
He smiled at her, his white teeth showing up like a flashlight in the dark night of his face.
“Perfect. You’re so fucking perfect, Calleigh,” he said as he began stroking the hard length of his cock.
She smiled at him, inordinately happy that she pleased him. His praise made her feel worshipped and adored. And hot. Ridiculously hot and wet from the pink tips of her toes to her perfectly arched eyebrows.
He stroked his cock in a sure steady motion, up and down, around the blunt head and back again on the return trip before he moved in and placed it right between her breasts.
“Squeeze me. Squeeze my cock right between your tits,” he ordered.
His dick was long and wide, a small drop of moisture already beading at the tip. Without waiting for any further instruction, she cupped her breasts around his cock and moved them up and down, around and around it, masturbating him.
He closed his eyes as her breasts massaged his cock. She could do this forever. His cock was warm steel, the act more sensual than taking him in her mouth, or any other part of her body, as the skin to skin contact warmed her all the way through and flooded her center. Up and down she continued, moving her breasts down the length of his cock, wondering if he was going to come then and there.
She couldn’t wait.
Finally, his low eyelids opened up and looked at her as she maintained her steady pace.
“You know what I’m going to do, don’t you?” he asked as he picked up the pace on his own.
“I hope so,” she purred.
A warm rush flooded her chest as he, for the first time ever, came fir
st, long before she did.
He captured her hands and pulled her to her feet before he cradled her head and kissed her, his mouth claiming her in an entirely different way. His tongue snaked in for a quick lick before releasing her lips.
“You ever done that before?”
“No. Did I do something wrong?” she asked, unsure of herself. This kept her off balance since her experience level was pretty much zero while David was practically the Zen Master of dominance.
“Of course not. You were perfect.”
His words sent a current of relief coursing through her.
“Did you enjoy it?” he asked, as he moved in to her side and nuzzled her neck.
“Yes.”
“Yes, as in you’d want to do it again or yes as in it was okay, but this should be more of an annual event as opposed to a monthly one?” he questioned.
“Yes, as in I want to do it as often as you’re up for it.”
“Pun intended?”
She laughed. “Pun most definitely intended.”
“You’re a wildcat, Calleigh. Sexy and confident. Don’t ever question whether or not you’re good at something or how you’re performing. All that matters is if we’re happy. If you made me any happier, I’d pass out.”
“It’s just that…you know…everything like this is new to me and I’m still struggling to make sure I’m doing everything right.”
“Quit worrying and just keeping enjoying it. Alright?
“Alright.”
“I think a nice long bath is in order for both of us. What do you think?”
She looked up at him and beamed. “I think that sounds perfect.”
Chapter 13
Relax. It’s only a phone call. You can do this. Pick up the phone.
Calleigh picked up her cell phone again, studied it intently as though its plastic face contained all the secrets of the world before putting it down on her coffee table. This was the fifth time since she’d started counting that she’d completed the pick-up-and-put-down routine. It wasn’t that she physically couldn’t perform the simple act of opening her phone, finding her contacts, scrolling to “L”, hitting “Lauren,” and placing the call to her mother that had been hanging over her like overdue taxes for the last few days. After her discussion with David the other night, she’d reluctantly accepted that it was up to her to be the bigger, more gracious person and end this standoff. Two weeks until Thanksgiving, and the time had arrived. Unfortunately, her hands were refusing to cooperate. They refused to complete the acts her brain was telling them to. As though protecting her from the unavoidable pain and heartache Lauren left in her wake.
Maybe this time will be different. Yeah, right. And maybe the Blazers would make the Finals. In the immortal words of Nike, she needed to Just Do It.
No longer thinking about it, she picked up the phone, found her mother’s contact information, dialed it up, and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally after about what seemed like nine hundred rings, her voicemail kicked in. Now, this was an unforeseen scenario. Her mother not picking up on the other end of the line. Her, having to leave a voicemail. Having to compose something positive, strong and confident, but cordial enough to communicate that she was reaching out. Deciding a straight-forward approach was best, she said into the phone, “Hi, Mother. It’s me. I’m sorry about how things turned out the last time at dinner and we need to get together. To talk. Call me whenever you have a minute.”
Flipping her phone down, she pondered the upcoming holiday, with or without her mother. She and David still hadn’t discussed any plans…which seemed weird. She had no idea if he was planning to fly home to Montana to visit his family or stay in town. The Tide were playing that Sunday and it was likely if he was gone for the holiday, he’d be back for the game. What would she do if he was in town, but didn’t suggest spending it with her? Did she want to spend it with him? Did he want to spend it with her? What about her mother? If they spent it together, was he up to being interrogated by Lauren who would undoubtedly notice that she was bringing a man home for a holiday, even if it was the holiday she most despised?
Would David think it was too soon? Was it too soon? Deciding she needed the voice of reason, she dialed up Mary.
“Hey you. I was just thinking about you. How are you?” her best friend asked.
“I’m fine. Good, actually. You?” Calleigh volleyed back.
“I’ve got no complaints, which is more than a lot of people can say. What’s up?”
Calleigh loved how Mary always drove directly to the point. No wasting time on unnecessary pleasantries or vapid drivel. By nature, Calleigh wasn’t one to spend any particular length of time on the phone. It wasn’t her thing and never had been. She preferred speaking in person or the occasional text.
“Well, I still haven’t spoken to my mother,” she began.
“Wow. She hasn’t called?”
“No, but I just left her a message, apologizing for how things were left and asking her to call me. Hopefully she will.”
“She will, Calleigh. She absolutely will. You’re her child and she loves you, even if she doesn’t express her love in the best of ways. Give her time. She’ll call you no later than tonight after she listens to your message. Mark my words.”
“I hope so. Anyway, I’m sort of assuming that we’ll be spending Thanksgiving together, which presents a new wrinkle because I haven’t talked to David about it.”
“What’s the problem? You don’t want to introduce him?”
“I don’t know. On the one hand, yes, I want him to meet my mother. On the other hand, Thanksgiving is kind of an important holiday in terms of family. I mean, will he think it’s too soon? Is it too soon?”
“I don’t think so,” Mary responded. “Neither of you are teenagers and his family isn’t around, right?”
“Right.”
“Look, you guys are dating, have been dating for a few months and it would frankly, be a little weird if you didn’t at a minimum, bring it up. It’s not like you expect him to propose. It’s a natural way for him to meet your only parent.”
She chewed on that while Mary continued. “If this was a casual kind of hook up fling, than no, I don’t think you should bring it up. But you’re serious and monogamous, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, invite him to spend Thanksgiving with or without Lauren.”
“He should actually be the one cooking. He’s a much better cook than I am,” she murmured, beginning to contemplate the practical consequences of the holiday.
“Maybe he’ll offer to host both of you.”
“Maybe. That’d be great. It would eliminate a lot of the problems with Mother Dearest.”
“Next time you talk to him, bring it up and you’ll find a way to finagle him into offering to have both you and Lauren over,” Mary advised.
“God, listen to me. I’m so selfish. What are you doing?”
“I’m not sure. Michael and I haven’t talked about it, but hopefully we’ll do something. If not, I might head up to Seattle that weekend and hang out with Kelsie and Jonah.”
“Cool. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Perfect. Love you.”
“Love you.”
§ § §
Mary was wrong. Lauren didn’t call that night. In fact, the call arrived at the most unexpected of times. Monday morning at nine a.m. sharp. Calleigh was prepping for her third period geometry class, enjoying the soft sounds of No Doubt from her iPod docking station, double-checking her lesson plan and cross-checking it with her overall progress plan for the year. Right now, each of her classes was on track. Staying on track and never lagging behind was the key to successful development in math curriculum. Because math was fundamentally a series of building blocks, each student had to learn each block in successive installments. Math wasn’t a subject where you could pick and choose and zip around before landing on your designated benchmark. Or decide to omit entire portions of a subject. You couldn’t learn how to complete a
proof until you’d mastered the individual rules to apply in the proof.
She loved it – the symmetry and order of math, particularly on mornings like this one where her personal life seemed jumbled and fragmented. On Sunday night, she’d declined David’s invitation to sleep over. His silence over the phone expressed confusion, so she did what any thirty year-old woman would do in her position. She made haste and ended the call as though her ass was on fire. She wasn’t prepared to discuss Thanksgiving with him and she knew if she saw him in person, he’d notice what was bothering her and cause her to spill her guts.
So, she took the chickenshit way out and avoided the situation altogether. Some adult she’d grown up to be.
Checking her phone’s caller i.d., a pit nestled in the bottom of her stomach when she identified the caller. Lauren likely thought she could safely leave a message since it was the beginning of her work day. Little did she know when her prep sessions were.
“Hi, Mother,” she said into the phone, swiveling in her chair to stare out at the wet November day, a day like every other day for the next four months.
“Calleigh,” her mother said briskly.
“I take it you received my message?” she offered.
“Yes.”
Calleigh crossed and then uncrossed her legs, watching the fat drops of rain glide down her classroom window in an endless rhythm. “Thanks for calling me back. Look, I’m not happy with the way things were left.”
Radio silence.
She continued. “I don’t regret what I said, but I do regret the way I said them and the way they must have made you feel. It was never my intention to hurt your feelings.”
Lauren’s silence swelled through the line like a tsunami wave.
Bound Hearts Page 16