by M. Mabie
As far as driving went, I was fine with that, too. I valued having my own transportation.
“We can leave whenever you want. Who else is going?”
She gave me a cheesy grin. “I have no idea. Probably a few other couples they know. I’m not sure.”
“Is this like some swinger’s thing?” I had to know.
Her face fell but looked compassionate instead of angry.
“I don’t know, but it wouldn’t surprise me to see some of that. Will it bother you?”
“I don’t know. Will you want to participate?”
“I don’t know, but I have before. Are you sure you want to go?”
What she’d done before our compromise didn’t make me angry—not at all. I was logical. There was absolutely nothing I could do about the past. She wasn’t ashamed of her history, I respected that. I only wanted her to be proud of her present, too. More than anything, I wondered if I fit into her ideal future—and consequentially if she fit into mine.
“If you want to go, I’ll try. That’s all I can offer.” I sounded more cross than I felt.
“I’ve never asked for more than that,” she said, and it was true. “You’ll have your car if things change—“
Whoa. I didn’t like the direction she was taking the conversation. So I’d interrupted with, “We can leave.”
She challenged, “Or you can leave.”
Was that what she was predicting? She still didn’t trust me.
I took a deep breath, noticing the impulse to count, but I was able to stow it. The medicine was helping.
It was crucial I said the right things.
She looked nervous. Gone was the fun and excitement she’d had buzzing around her when I walked in. That didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t want to bring her down.
“Okay, that’s a possibility,” I reasoned. “But not what I want. I’m interested in having a long, relaxing weekend away with you. And I’m looking forward to meeting your friends. Please understand I really want this to work. You can’t punish me for things I haven’t done yet. Have some faith in me.”
Would she always assume the worst?
She got up and walked her plate to the kitchen, and I stayed. I had more to eat, but I wasn’t all that hungry anymore.
I closed my eyes, still not counting, and took a deep breath.
When she came back, she moved my legs out from under the table, then straddled them.
“I’m sorry,” she said against my cheek before she planted a kiss there. “I hope you don’t want to leave, but you have to have faith in me, too. I know this is new for you, but I’ve never done this either. I’ve never brought someone on a trip like this. I especially wouldn’t throw you into the middle of some gang-bang. I don’t know what you’re imagining in this head of yours.” She lightly tapped my temple. “But it won’t be anything like that. I’ll be there with my lover. You’re my concern, not anyone else.”
She didn’t often speak like that, and it gave me optimism. This was tough stuff to deal with—but we were tougher. I hoped.
“You’re not?” I tempted. Otherwise, I’d need to remind her whose name she’d screamed that morning.
I’d remind her anyway.
“I’m not. But, you never know, you might see something that looks interesting and let go of some your inhibitions.”
I wasn’t so sure, but she was giving me what I needed. Honesty.
So I’d give her what she needed that weekend. Understanding. After all, that’s what she was asking me for.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned in for a kiss, taking my bottom lip between hers. Again she was trying to comfort me, and it always pleased me. Always worked.
She spoke around our kiss. “I already have my things packed. I’d like you to carry me down the hall—while it’s still just ours—and take me to bed.” She convincingly made her way down my neck, placed a kiss on my Adam’s apple, and then rubbed it with the pad of her thumb. Grey eyes met mine, and she added, “Please.”
How could one little word be so sexy?
SEVEN
PAST
NORA—Thursday, August 28, 2008
Why did saying please to him feel so good?
He was still bossy as ever—it was his nature—but the way he looked at me when I said that word made me want to say it over and over again. How it empowered him was such a turn on for me, and I didn’t understand why.
As my right hand fisted his sheets, it tumbled from me. “Please, Reagan. Please.” I needed him to fuck me. To fill me like only he did.
He reached up for my other hand, which was threaded through his hair, and kissed my fingers one by one.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” His eyes were caramel. His mouth slick with my wetness. His breath coming like he’d been swimming laps. Then he bit his lips, and after looking me in the eye, he made the call himself. “No, but you’re close.” Like the fiend he was, Reagan looked at me all the while licking and sucking at my clit again.
I watched. I could never help myself. The carnal way he looked at me was both overwhelming and the most erotic thing I’d ever laid eyes on. How passionate he was about pleasing me with every move he made. It was incredibly powerful.
Then I felt two fingers slip inside me. I believe I levitated when I heard him growl as I came on his hand and in his mouth. You’d never convince me otherwise.
“WOW.” THE ESTATE WE were pulling into was impressive. I’d been to many nice places, but I hadn’t been expecting that when we accepted their invitation. The mansion was almost as big as my father’s. Well, mine.
Reagan drove up to the gate, stopping next to a speaker in his new SUV—which I liked better because I could hold his hand while he drove. Before he rolled down the window to press the button, he asked, “You ready for this?”
Was I ready? Here I’d been nervous for him, but all day he seemed right as rain. I had a pit in my stomach.
“I’m ready. How come you look so cool? Last night you were different.”
Lifting my hand to his mouth to kiss it, he said, “You stayed all night. I always feel better when I start the day with you in my bed.” He could charm Ben Franklin off a hundred-dollar bill, but he charmed me instead.
On cue, he lowered the window on his door and extended his long arm to push the button.
“Hello,” announced a gentleman through the box on the stone pillar.
Before speaking he cleared his throat, smiling my way the whole time. “Nora Koehl and Reagan Warren.”
“Welcome to Penelope Stables, sir. Just follow the drive, and we’ll get you parked.”
He grinned back over at me and winked. He was so carefree.
I couldn’t help but let some of my stress melt away. I was away on a weekend with the sex god of the north, and he looked happy. I could relax.
“Come on, baby. Let’s have some fun,” he coaxed, accurately reading me like he often did. Then he shifted the gear into drive with his left hand to avoid breaking our connection in the middle and let off the brake.
When Reagan Warren wanted to have fun, it was irresistible. Irre-fucking-sistable.
We pulled around a large fountain to a waiting Janel and Ives. Reagan took the counterclockwise lane to pull up on my side. He was made of manners; I’d expected nothing less.
Here we go.
As soon as the SUV was in park, Ives was opening my door.
I glanced across the seat, and he gave me an encouragingly, long contented blink. The silent equivalent to: Why are you waiting? Just go. You’re okay. It gave me relief when I was in need.
He wouldn’t let me down. I hoped I could do the same for him.
I’d been worried he would act—well, frankly—jealous. He was already proving me wrong.
“Hello, Nora,” Ives greeted, and I took his hand to help me down in my heels. Quickly, I was out of the car, standing on a wide step that lead up to six more in front of the massive door.
Janel kissed my cheek, and I h
eld my hand out to Reagan as he handed the key off to a gentleman in a white button down shirt and nicely pressed shorts.
I’d keep my word, proudly.
“Janel and Ives Bergeron, this is my lover, Reagan Warren.”
His chest puffed—maybe I imagined the swell of his presence, but I doubt it—and he let go of me, extending a hand out to my longtime friend.
“It’s nice to finally meet you. Thank you so much for the invitation.”
Ives slapped him on the back good-naturedly and replied, “Oh, please. Our Nora has impeccable taste. Any friend of hers is a friend of ours.”
“Are you the first to arrive?” I asked speedily. Ives was being polite, but what he’d said sounded frightfully close to innuendo. Then again, he was European and almost everything he said in English sounded like that.
Janel cheerfully said, “Yes. Justin and Penelope are picking up two other couples they know from the airport. They should be here in an hour or so.”
“Justin and Penelope Beckham?” Reagan asked, revelation thick in his question. Another roll of nerves came to life inside me.
God, he knew these people?
“Yes,” Ives confirmed. “That’s right. You two work together. We met Justin and Penelope at the InformaTrade party. They are the ones who invited us.”
Janel turned my way and added, “This is Penelope’s family’s farm. They breed horses here, but mostly they use the property as a family vacation home. I’ll have to show you the back. The lake is right there. Nora, it’s gorgeous.”
“I’m sure,” I said. My heart was racing, afraid of how my newest lover would react. I chanced a look at him to gauge, but he still looked as relaxed as in the vehicle.
Reagan’s colleague?
I’d never felt shame from my lifestyle. Undeniably, I felt something just shy of it. For him. I didn’t know if everyone who was attending would be like us, I’d only assumed.
“Let’s go in and have a drink while we wait. You two can go get settled in a room.” She walked, and I stayed in step with her, leaving Reagan and Ives to follow.
When they were a safe distance back talking about some work thing, I asked her quietly, “Are Justin and Penelope...” I started but knew I didn’t need to finish the sentence.
What was wrong with me? Get it together.
“Are they poly, Janel?” I glimpsed behind me at the men who were still talking in the grand foyer.
Holding her bottom lips between her teeth, she looked their way, too. Then whispered, “They’re interested. We’re not sure. We’ve hung out with them a few times, had dinner with them. It’s really none of our business, but they are very nice.”
My dear friend blushed. I knew her. She was obviously attracted to them. Intimately.
“Penelope is beautiful. Ives and I adore her. He and Justin have a lot in common, too,” she rattled quickly like she was defending her feelings.
She didn’t have any explaining to do, especially to me. That was how we were—how I’d been. How our type of relationships worked.
I was comforted. Their attention would most likely be on Justin and Penelope, rather than me. Rather than us. It would ease up the pressure I felt. It would let us wade into things instead of getting dunked.
Maybe that was my problem. I was being too careful. Paranoid. Almost as if there was some arbitrary countdown to when it would be too much for him, and he’d give up. It only intensified because we weren’t with strangers. Reagan knew them.
Would he be humiliated because of me?
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly to soothe my nerves. “Okay. What room is ours?” I asked, satisfied with her information. I was simply overreacting because it was all so new. I was over thinking things.
“The one at the top of the stairs. We’re down the hall to the left.”
I studied the massive room, feeling winded like I’d been doing hurdles. I had, but they’d been in my mind. “This place is incredible.”
She reached for my hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Just be yourself, Nora.” She’d picked up on how out of place I felt. Of course she did, she knew me well, too.
Scanning, my eyes found his, and he nodded upstairs. That was a good idea. I needed to get myself together and see how he felt about someone from his work being there, even if I didn’t think it was too worrisome now, knowing what I did about Janel and Ives.
“Meet us by the pool. We were about to get our suits on,” Janel called as I saw them come up the stairs right before I shut the door to our suite, Reagan already inside.
And a sweet suite it was.
“I must say, you have nice friends,” he said, then whistled like he was impressed. He wandered around the expansive room, complete with a private terrace which looked out over the water. He still didn’t appear too rattled, and again it relaxed me that much more.
I fell backward on the big bed, and he came to me and brushed the hair out of my face.
“Thank you,” I said, appreciating everything he was doing. It’s scary outside your comfort zone. I was beginning to feel like I was outside of mine instead of it being the other way around.
He placed a tender kiss on my lips, “Thank you, too.”
“Are you okay?” I asked him, a question that was usually pointed in my direction.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m a little surprised,” he admitted, but I saw a flicker of humor in his eyes.
“Yeah. I didn’t know it was their place. I would have mentioned it.”
He wiped a gentle hand down my face, forehead to lips and I kissed his fingers. “Take your panties off.”
I laughed. He wasn’t stressed in the least. I could chill out.
“We wouldn’t leave this room all weekend. We could have stayed in the city. Rain check?” My mouth reached out to him and pressed itself to his neck.
He bargained, “Two rain checks.”
“I’ll have to check my account.”
A wicked grin split his face. “I believe you had a few deposits last night. I’m sure you’re good for it.”
I let myself sink into the bed and finally breathe somewhat easier.
“Do you want to go swimming?” he asked.
Although I was dying to see him in his trunks, I wasn’t sure how he’d handle me walking around in a bathing suit. I’d noticed the way he noticed when men looked at me. “I’ll be in a bikini.”
He shrugged, then rolled to the edge and got up.
“So?” he asked assertively as he lifted his small suitcase to the mattress and unzipped it.
“So? You growl at Dirk, the lobby guy.” This was an indisputable fact. He couldn’t deny it.
He straightened to his full height and looked me dead in the eyes. “You told Janel and Ives I was your lover, Nora. Not the other way around. You didn’t say to me and these are my other lovers, Janel and Ives.” He nodded and went about his business, adding, “Furthermore, you hate it when Dirk Dangler looks at you, too.”
It tickled me every time he made fun of the poor guy, and I covered my laugh with my hand.
He unbuttoned his shirt and neatly laid it on the bed, then pulled off his undershirt putting his chiseled top half on full view.
A day at the pool with him wouldn’t be a burden.
“You’re right,” I relinquished and dropped my head back on the pillow.
He made good points. I’d introduced them that way and Dirk was harmless, but kind of creepy. I lay there and chastised myself trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me.
He pulled my legs down the duvet, and I squealed. “Hey!”
“Stop, you like it,” he said and bit at my earlobe. “Get your fucking suit on. Let’s go see if I’ll growl.” Then, he pretended to eat my neck like a savage beast.
I needed to relax and cross bridges as they came.
EIGHT
PAST
REAGAN—Friday, August 29, 2008
I didn’t want to act like a barbarian, but I’d have to set that bridg
e on fire when I got to it.
Everything I’d said to her was true. I didn’t care if she wore a bathing suit. She wasn’t my possession.
Looking was one place, I’d decided I could compromise that weekend. I didn’t fucking like it one bit, but it was the lesser of all of the evils I thought I’d encounter on the trip.
She went into the bathroom, and I prayed for mercy.
It was what would happen if they wanted to touch her—hell, depending on the conversation, what they’d say to her—I needed to be prepared for. Their eyeballs I could deal with, and the rest I’d just have to wing.
One thing was for sure, when we got back to the Lunar, now that I knew for a fact he had made her uncomfortable, I’d be talking to Dirk.
She was precisely right. That last time I growled, but Dirk was on my shit list. It was her home, where she should be comfortable, and goddammit it was my home, too.
I pulled my black trunks up over my hips, grabbed my sunglasses, and then waited for her on the terrace. When she walked out in a red bikini with a sheer red piece of fabric wrapped around her waist, I almost changed my mind about everything.
I’d made it a priority to take my medicine that morning and thankfully it was powerful enough to keep anxiety from taking me down at that moment. Because without it, it would have.
You can handle this.
“You look beautiful,” I said as she wrapped an arm around me and shared the view of the lake. I kissed her head when she moved her big sunglasses down over her eyes.
Before we even left the room, I insisted on sunblock. My motives weren’t that hard to guess. I didn’t need to leave anything up to chance, not where I could prevent it. It just so happens it was a winning move two-fold. They wouldn’t need to touch her, and sun protection was always important. Especially for her unblemished porcelain shell.
We found the pool easily enough, and we were the first people down there, save for the woman who we saw walk out from the other end of the massive back patio the same time we did.