I worked the lock fast and dragged him in.
Looks like I had just made it in time. As I got him to the edge of my bed he fell onto it and passed out.
I took his shoes off and put them by the door. I removed his suit jacket, pants, and shirt. I hung them in my closet. I pulled the blanket up over him.
Then I watched him sleep for a minute or two.
A flood of memories rushed back to me.
Jake on a hot summer day at Salisbury Beach wearing fifteen Hawaiian leis and a flowered shirt because he lost a bet with his buddy Tom. Making love to him after Halloween Fest 2011 while he still wore his Batman costume. The day he called all excited because he had just been hired by Banks, Hardwick, and Cone. Meeting his tipsy mom and aristocratic dad at his graduation party. Sitting at night in the Public Garden when the drunk guy peed right in front of us, then said "Hello" like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I sat on the bed and touched his face. Stroked his temple. Oh Jake, what have I done? Where have I gone? I felt a tear rolling down my cheek. I wiped it. I really need to stop that shit. I'm not one of those girls who cry all the time and I'll be damned if I become one now!
I went to the cabinet and got a bottle of Pinot Grigio. I looked at it and put it back. I went to the other cabinet and took down the Smirnoff. I poured some over ice. Then I added some ginger ale. I would have preferred tonic water, but it's all I had.
I sat on the couch and saw the Bluetooth on the table. He had told me I don't have to wear it all the time anymore. I just need it in case I have to orgasm. My God, I really am controlled by his voice, aren't I?
I took a sip of the vodka and turned on the television, flipping channels. Shit, there he was. Tristan Slade in all his glory.
A plump girl stood on the Big Deals TV set asking for $50,000 in exchange for a ten percent stake in her cupcake company. Tristan was one of the five dealmakers who would cut her to shreds.
I couldn't watch. Not only does the show make my stomach turn with its cutthroat mentality, but I can't watch Tristan Slade while Jake is here in my bed.
All of a sudden I felt cold. I went to my bedroom and got a sweater from my closet. Jake was still sleeping.
I flipped again and stopped at Casablanca on the classic movies channel.
I made another drink and lost myself in wartime Morocco.
Rick was drunk, trying to wash away the memory of Ilsa. Sam was trying to help but nothing he said could smash Rick out of his funk.
Were things simpler then? Was there some guy in Casablanca who tacked a Submissive training ad to a vestibule near Rick's Cafe? Probably a Nazi if he did. They were into some weird shit. I finished my drink. Oops. I made another.
Was life better then? Men were men and women were women. Professor Sanders would have hated it. Meredith Zycroft would have no patients. Where was the dominance and submission? Who had the stockades and the floggers back then? Did Rick want to whip Ilsa? Would she come from it?
I thought of Jake. Is he Rick or Victor Lasczlo? Gotta go with Victor, right? Rick is the dark one, the mysterious one. And yet Rick is all heart deep down. Is Tristan Slade all heart deep down? Is there a soul in there? Does he have a heart as good as Jake's?
I went to my bedroom and kissed Jake on the cheek.
He stirred a little and made a noise. Then his eyes popped open. He looked at me.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi," I said.
"Oh God. I think I'm going to puke."
He sat up. Even in his disheveled state with his hair all rumpled, he was a gorgeous man. I took another swig of vodka.
"Do you have an Alka-Seltzer?" he said.
"Yeah, I think so," I said.
I went to the kitchen, got it out, poured some spring water in a glass, added the Alka-Seltzer, and brought the fizzy concoction to Jake. I glanced at the TV. Rick and Ilsa were in Paris before the war, all happy and in love.
Jake drank it down.
"Mind if I shower?" he said.
"Of course," I said like I was still his girlfriend.
He got up and went into the bathroom. I made another drink. Outside my window the snow swirled. On my TV the Germans invaded Paris. Ilsa never showed at the train station, leaving only a note for Rick who stood there in the rain.
Jake came out wearing a T-shirt and a pair of boxers from the stash of his stuff that he leaves here. He poured a glass of water and sat on the couch next to me. I turned the TV volume down.
"You feeling better?" I said.
"Yeah," he said, looking down. I moved closer to him. "Thanks for helping me like you did."
"What happened?"
"I... shit, I can't believe this... no, actually, I can... I found some records at the firm that didn't comply with... some other records."
"And?"
"And I made the foolish mistake of bringing it up to one of the senior partners."
"How was that a foolish mistake?"
"Because they called me up to the top office. They were all just lined up standing there and said it would be best if I resign. God, it was my own damned fault. I should have known they were cooking the books and bending the laws. Because..."
"Because that's what lawyers do."
"Yes, and I forgot that. I had some picture of myself as a noble defender of the people and I bought into the image a little too seriously. Too many episodes of Boston Legal maybe."
"Oh, Jake," I said and touched his arm, "I'm sorry."
"No, I'm the one who's sorry. I never should have chosen law. You have three choices. A, you become a heartless prosecutor who only sees the bad in everybody. B, you become a shill for corporate cronies. Or C, you end up wearing clip-on ties and tweed jackets as a public defender living in a one-room apartment over a Vietnamese restaurant."
"As I recall, we had this discussion before. You were going to find a way to cut through it all and chart your own course, even open your own firm eventually."
His eyes lit up.
"Yes, that was the plan. That still is the plan. That's what I'm going to do."
I leaned in and put my head on his muscular arm. His other hand found the small of my back and held me.
"You're a good man, Jake. The best. You're going to do it your way. The way it should be done. People will know you as a reformer. As somebody who really does look out for the people... and who makes a lot of money at the same time."
He took my hand and smiled. He turned, lifted my chin, and looked at me.
"You always make me feel right Meg. Not just better, but right. Everything in the world aligns into its proper place when you're around."
I don't know if it was the vodka or the passion of the moment but I lean forward and kiss him. He kisses me back.
Our tongues dance as I scoot forward on my knees and put my arms around his neck. He grabs me by my waist and pulls me into him.
I fall backwards and he moves on top of me. He kisses my neck. The heat from his breath and tongue trigger a spark that goes right to my pussy. My hips squirm.
Jake takes off my sweater, lifts off my shirt, and dives down to my belly with his tongue. He puts his arms behind me and lifts me up, licking my belly button. A line of energy triggers a flow down below.
Sensing this, he moves his face down further, rubbing my crotch over my jeans, grabbing and massaging my ass. After a few seconds of this, he undoes my jeans and rips them down to my ankles.
He apparently can't wait to get them off because he pushes his nose into my wet panties.
My hips move upward, pressing my now-hard clit into his face. I rub his hair. Oh Jake, I've missed you so much.
"I've missed you too," he said.
Shit, I guess I said that out loud.
He rips down my panties and laps my slit. I moan. If there's one thing at which Jake truly excels, it's pussy-eating.
I lose myself for a minute but then my eyes open wide and I freeze. He's going to see the marks on my back and butt! Shit.
Techn
ically, we're not together anymore but I don't want to explain how I got the marks.
"Jake," I say.
"Mm-hmm," he says, his upper lips lost in my lower ones.
"Can we turn the lights out?"
"Sure."
He gets up, moves over to the bedside lamp, and shuts it off.
"You want the TV off too?" he says.
"Yes," I say, not wanting to take any chances. Claude Rains, shocked that there is gambling going on at Rick's, disappears.
Jake resumes his meal of pussy. I respond. My hips buck into his face. I moan.
We continue like that for a few minutes, Jake's tongue doing amazing things inside me. I feel an orgasm building.
But I don't want to come this way. I want him inside me. I want my boyfriend Jake to make love to me.
I grab him by the ears and pull. He moves up my belly, pauses to lick my hard nipples, and stops at my mouth. Our tongues unite for a while as my hands find his cock.
I flip us over, rubbing my crotch over his erection. I dig my tongue into his neck as my hands explore his big frame. He's gotten a little soft since getting the job but he's still big and strong.
I move down his chest, pressing my tongue into that spot right below his chest bone. I feel his manhood between my breasts. I squeeze them together and move my body up and down.
I look up at him and smile. He smiles back. We pause for a moment, connecting on a deep level. He touches my hair.
With a devilish grin, I stick my tongue way out and trace lines down his stomach, teasing his slightly curved six-inch play toy.
I move down the sides of it, purposefully avoiding licking it. I know this drives him crazy. I see it throb as I lick down into the crevice to the right of his balls. I press my tongue hard in there.
"God!" he shouts.
I lick all around his balls, all the way over to the other side. I kiss them, taking them into my mouth. At the same time, I finally give his cock the touch it so craves with my right hand.
At the first contact of my skin to his, a gush of pre-cum launches. I use it to massage him lightly as I continue giving his balls some love.
Then I'm at the base of his shaft. God, I know this cock so well. It may not be the biggest or the straightest in the world but it got me off hundreds of times and it belongs to a good man... a truly great man.
I kiss and lick it all over, exploring its rock hard glory. Jake reaches down and strokes my hair.
Then I put my arms under his legs and pull him to the side of the bed. His legs fall to the floor. I scoot him to his right a little and press my hands into his back.
He takes the hint, sitting up so I can get a better sucking angle. I let his hardness flop all around my face, my hair, my neck.
I rub him with my hands while I press my tongue into his base and draw squiggles up each side to the tip.
"Mmmmm," he says.
Then his head is inside my mouth. I press the flat part of my tongue on his front sensitive part and just hold it there for a second. His hips move.
I sink my head forward, allowing him to fill my mouth completely. Hello, old friend.
His tip reaches my left tonsil and barely touches the back of my throat. I close my lips and swirl my tongue all around the hot hard mass in my mouth.
My pussy is dripping now. I reach my left hand down to let her know she'll get some attention soon, massaging her engorged folds over my hard clit.
I suck as I move my head back. Jake groans. I feel his skin stretch as I move backward, bringing his tip to my lips. I tease my tongue all around it.
Then I move forward again, bringing him all the way back inside me.
I never understood girls who say they don't enjoy this. Either they were lying or they were seriously missing out. There is nothing like the joy of sucking cock.
I move faster, increasing the suction. Jake picks up the pace, bucking his hips.
We keep going like that for a while, then I pull him further to the edge of the bed. He seems a little confused as I stop sucking and look up at him.
"Fuck my face!" I say.
His eyes go wide.
"Huh?" he says.
"Fuck my face! Use my head as your tool!"
I can tell he is simultaneously amazed, aroused, and confused. But he does as told and begins thrusting his cock into my throat.
After a few back-and-forth motions, I lean back.
"No, Jake," I say. "Fuck my face! Pound my throat! Grab my hair and fuck my skull hard!"
"Holy shit," he mumbles. "Okay."
He fumbles for my hair, grabs it lightly and pulls. I resume sucking and he resumes thrusting. I growl to signal him to go harder.
He does, but he is hesitant. He is afraid of hurting me so he holds back. I can tell.
Fuck it, this is hopeless. He's not getting it. Let's just fuck.
I push him back away from me and down onto the bed. He still looks confused. I motion for him to get back fully on the bed. He complies.
I sit on top of him and get his cock inside my pussy. She breathes a sigh of relief. I fuck him like that for a while, feeling the intensity build inside me.
He pulls my face down and makes out with me while I bounce on top of him. Soft caresses all around my face. Loving arms all around me.
But something isn't working. I keep losing my steam. What the fuck? We never had this problem before!
Okay, new tactic.
I scoot off him and to his right side. He takes the hint and climbs on top of me.
He stares deeply into my eyes as he inserts himself into me. He smiles with that warm smile that makes me feel protected, secure, and loved.
"I love you, Meghan," he says as he lightly kisses my cheek.
"Fuck me!" I say.
"Oh, okay," he says with a hint of alarm.
He begins his missionary thrusts as usual, slow and steady.
"Harder!" I say.
He picks up the pace. I feel my orgasm build. There it is.
"Fucking harder!" I say.
His eyes go way wide. He tries to go harder but something holds him back.
God, just pummel me! Stop being so loving and gentle, goddammit!
Okay, try something else, Meghan.
"Call me your tool!" I say.
He freezes.
"My what?" he says.
"Your tool! I'm your fuck tool! Fuck me like I'm just a tool! Say it! Say, 'You're my fucking tool! You're here to please me!' Say it!"
"You're my... tool?"
"Oh, Jake, never mind. Just fuck me! Go!"
He resumes his thrusts, a perplexed look on his face. I go with the flow and buck my hips under him.
He leans forward, putting his right hand on my face as he moves inside me. His eyes meet mine. I know he is ready to come, but he always senses my body and waits for me. Such a generous thoughtful man. Always thinking of others.
He thrusts some more. My orgasm rises. He hits the right spot and keeps hitting it, all the while holding deep eye contact.
I'm ready to come and he knows it. But I don't come.
He slows down and stops, just holding himself inside me. He is going to ramp up again. I know him well.
Yep, slow thrusts again. He is good. He always gets me off... or at least he always did.
We get back into a rhythm and I ride the edge again. I grunt in the rapture of near-release but I just can't get there. He thrusts harder.
Then I remember.
Of course! Holy fuck, I forgot. I can't come without permission.
Jake is determined. I see the corporate attorney in his eyes. He's hell-bent to make me orgasm.
"Jake," I say, patting him on the arm.
But he doesn't stop. He's focused.
"Jake," I say again.
He keeps going.
"Jake!"
He stops, sweating and out of breath.
"Meghan, what's wrong?" he said.
"Nothing," I said. "I just need to do something."
I
pushed his sides away from me. He pulled out and I scooted out away from him, off the bed.
"Do something?" he said. "What the fuck, Meghan? What are you talking about?"
"Just humor me, Jake", I said as I looked for the Bluetooth earpiece. I found it. "I have to go in the bathroom for a second."
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," I said. "Hold that thought. We're not done. I just have to do something. Trust me, Jake."
"Okay," he said, shaking his head.
I went in the bathroom and locked the door. I turned the light on, put the toilet seat down, and sat on it.
I put the Bluetooth earpiece in my ear and pressed the button.
I waited.
No click. I pressed the button again.
Nothing.
Shit, what do I do?
The prepaid phone! I went to the door, unlocked it, and went back out to my bag on the counter.
Jake had turned the TV back on and was sitting up. He looked at me inquisitively. On the screen, Ilsa and Victor Lasczlo were arriving at Rick's Cafe to get the letters of transit.
"Are you all right?" Jake said.
"Yes," I said. "Just one sec."
I found the prepaid phone and ran back to the bathroom. I avoided the mirror because I didn't want to see what I looked like.
I dialed the number. Voicemail. Shit.
I put the Bluetooth back in and tapped it again. Nothing.
I turned toward the window and looked out. At least three inches of snow had accumulated. What am I going to do? I can't stay in this bathroom all day. I'll just have to fake an orgasm, I guess.
The Bluetooth earpiece clicked to life.
"Hello, Meghan," said the rich velvety voice of Tristan Slade. My heart skipped a beat.
"Mentor," I said.
"Yes?"
I took a deep breath.
"Mentor... may I come please?"
"Are you alone?"
Should I lie? No, he'll know.
"No."
"Who are you with?"
I clenched my teeth.
"Jake", I said.
"Who?" he said.
"Jake. My boyfriend. Well, my ex-boyfriend."
There was a long pause. A very long pause. Did he hear me?
"Mentor?" I said. "Are you still there?"
"I'm still here," he said. Is that irritation in his voice? "Is he there now?"
Controlled by His Voice Box Set (Erotic Romance) Page 11