by Sienna Mynx
“Okay, love you, Destini. I really love you, girl, and I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Naiya. Talk to you again soon. Bye.” She set the phone back on the cradle. Operation connect-with-best-friend was officially over. Dropping back on her pillows, she nibbled the tender inside of her bottom lip.
Destini stood from the sofa and walked over to the window in her room. She looked out at the sky. The evening was approaching. She was reminded of her moonlight drive. Bryce said he’d wait for her tonight, in that special room of his, to begin a ritual that intrigued and excited her. In that room waited the contract and her decision. She was ready to make it.
Russ said he’d wait for her in town, where the lobster was as big as a small gator, and the napkins were folded in your lap, according to the commercial.
Now she had to choose.
***
“Reservation?”
“I believe it’s under Dumont?”
“Destini?”
Destini turned. His eyes were navy, almost black, and wholly focused on her. It was Russell the loser alright. She could see it in the way he approached, very authoritative and commanding. His beard was trimmed down to a thin strip that lined his sideburns to his jaw and connected to his mustache. In a brown corduroy jacket with a hunter green crew neck sweater beneath, he looked unusually casual, handsome even. His mousy brown hair was finger combed from his face. His dark brown brows shadowed his inquisitive eyes, and the corner of his mouth tipped up, making his nicely groomed mustache rise.
“Hi.”
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” he said, then leaned in and brushed her cheeks with his lips. Destini felt nothing. And it was the first sensual act he’d done with her since he first started courting her. How many times had she wished he’d be more tender and thoughtful? It was stupid of her then and meaningless to her now.
“Were you waiting long?” he asked, never breaking eye contact.
“No, um, just got here,” she replied.
He stepped forward, his hand going protectively to her lower back. “Reservation under Russ Dumont.”
“This way please,” the maître d’ said and flounced away.
“After you,” Russell said. Destini nodded and followed ‘mister tight butt cheeks’ to their table, swallowing her smile. Russell knew how to play the gentleman, pulling her chair out for her to sit. But he was never to be trusted. He loved to weaken her defenses before slamming an insult to wither pride in her face. He took a seat across from her. The table that was chosen was at the bay windows that faced the street. Cars passing, valet drop offs, patrons dressed for a nice dinner were their backdrop.
“I’ve had the wine here, out of Tuscany. Best Chianti for the dinner menu.”
“So you’ve been here before?” she asked.
“Only passing through,” he shrugged. “Why did you choose to come here?”
“We aren’t here to talk about me. What is going on? Do you really have cancer?” she asked.
The server poured the wine for Russ to inhale and sip. Receiving the approving nod, he poured Destini a glass. The server then made suggestions from the Chef. Destini tried to focus her thoughts.
“Is the wine choice okay?” he asked.
She smiled through it all, not really hungry. She chose a feta pasta toss with sundried tomatoes and portabella mushrooms. Russell ordered the swordfish. Alone with candles and wine between them, she had to ask the dreaded question again. “Do you have cancer?”
He stared at her. She didn’t like the intensity in his eyes. “I have it. I do. And I feel like a worm for crawling back to you.”
“Back to me?” she frowned.
“I need you Destini. This shit has me scared. They want to cut off my balls.”
Destini sat back in her chair. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll help me get through this?” he said with a weak smile.
“No,” she said.
“No? I just told you I have cancer?”
“And that has nothing to do with me,” she reminded him.
“It has everything to do with you. We spent so much time together. We were close to getting married.”
“And you dumped me for a girl you met on an airplane,” she shook her head and smiled. “Do I have to remind you that we barely can stand each other?”
“I love you,” he confessed.
“You’re full of shit!” She threw the napkin on the table and pushed back her chair. “It’s not love Russ. It’s fear. Call your sister or another ex-girlfriend. I’m sorry. I can’t go back to who we were together. I won’t.”
“Forgive me. Please!” he pleaded.
Destini would have heard more but she couldn’t stomach a public confrontation. She walked off. The minute she hit the sidewalk a valet approached. She handed her ticket over to the driver. Destini’s car arrived, and she hurried around it.
“Destini! Wait!” Russell came out the restaurant and hurried toward her. Just then a black sleek Mercedes sped out of the parking lot. The windows were tinted so dark she couldn’t see the driver. But he swerved very close to where Russell was on the sidewalk. He jumped back startled. Destini looked on in horror as the car escaped.
“Fucking idiot!” Russell yelled after the car. She shook her head and started for her car. Russell forced the valet to step away as he held the car door open for her to enter.
“I’m sorry. Destini. I’m sorry. I’m an ass. I need a friend not a girlfriend. Please. At least let me call you. Just when things get scary.”
“Call your family Russ. They can help you.”
“Maybe, but I’m a jerk to everyone. You’re the only one forgiving enough to accept my calls.” He smiled.
She hesitated a moment and then slipped inside the car. He closed the door and stepped back. She looked up at him and shook her head with renewed sadness. She felt sorry for him still. Destini rolled her window down. “Call me if you want to talk. That’s all I can offer.”
He winked. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, headed for the interstate. She didn’t bother to look back.
***
Bryce paced a tight circle.
He stopped.
Then paced again.
It began innocently enough. He wasn’t going to pressure her. He just wanted to swing by, see if she needed anything. After all, he had told her to come to him but he hadn’t suggested dinner. Besides, a day of waiting on her decision was making him crazy. So he thought a quick run to her cottage would work out in his favor. Instead he saw her leaving. And she looked beautiful. He couldn’t see her dress under her light coat, but he saw her hair loose and her slender legs in stiletto high heel shoes. It wasn’t a trip to the grocery store. So he followed her. He shouldn’t have. Normally he wouldn’t have, but he couldn’t stop himself.
What had he really seen? He thought it was a simple dinner with a friend. But even he wasn’t that stupid. After they sat before a window to give him a front seat view, he recognized her ex-lover. Before their split he used to see him drop her off to work. He saw the way the man looked at her and the way she smiled at the bastard. He saw her respond to another man without the trepidation she used with him.
She had lied to him. How long had this thing been going on between them?
Was this who she wanted?
Someone he wasn’t.
“Bryce?”
He whirled to find her in the room with him. She had to have left right after he did to arrive so soon. Destini stood there in a dark blue dress that wrapped around her curves, molding the sweet lines of her Coke-bottle shape. “Can we talk?”
Bryce wiped his mouth to keep from saying what he wanted. His self-restraint kept him from attacking her verbally, accusing her of provoking him. He should have run the motherfucker over. No jury would convict him. She was his! He wanted to smash something. The urge itched in his palms and was stuck in his craw. He could shock her, scare her into obedience, but that would make him his father. He
wanted to grab her by those thick locks of hers and fuck her in every hole he could find, demanding obedience. Then he’d force her to smile at him like she did that bastard, Dumont. But to show any anger or lack of self-control was pathetic. To do so would give her emotion, the wrong kind. It could break him down to nothing more than some sniveling weakling in her eyes. He was a Gaylor man after all. He wouldn’t unleash the rage that cursed generations of the men in his family.
Destini walked inside, trailing her fragrance with her and tempting him with her long, shapely legs and thick hips. Damn her. He averted his eyes. He clenched his hands into fists and caged the beast in him that wanted to punish her, and then have her punish him. He would not lose his cool. I will not lose my cool.
“I had dinner with Russ tonight.”
Bryce arched a brow.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I want… I’m telling you because I think honesty is the best policy with you and me. Something you said about truth the other night. Right? Truth and trust are the same thing, if shared between two people who believe they are both sincere.”
“He’s your ex-lover. Why did you see him?” Bryce asked.
“It doesn’t matter, I won’t see him again.” She moved closer to him. That wasn’t wise. She should keep her distance.
“I don’t know if I can become what you asked of me. I need labels. I need the ones that explain my emotions. I need love, too. If you say that contract is about love then I believe you,” she said. “But I’ll need you to prove it.”
“And what do I get in return?” he asked, his teeth clenched.
“You get me. And I get you. That’s the agreement I wish to sign. I’ll give you what you need if you give me what I need.”
He parted his lips to give her a sharp reply, but she reached for his belt with trembling fingers. Destini came in so close. It was only natural that their lips met. She gasped in his mouth after his teeth found the tender flesh of her bottom lip and bit hard. He tasted the sharp metallic taste of wine on her breath—the other man’s wine—the bottle he ordered for her and she drank with him, smiling. He bit her lip again, and she whimpered, continuing to apologize through her kiss while her hands went up over his chest then raked through his hair, anchoring him to her.
She was succumbing, and it was glorious.
“The contract?” he breathed.
“Amend it. Make it more appealing and I’ll sign it,” she said.
His gaze locked on hers. When her hand grabbed his groin again, he smiled, forcing her up against the wall. Bryce put his hands up to both sides of her head as he chased her tongue with his. She eased down his zipper. Destini slipped her fingers in and fisted his cock, since it greeted her immediately. Bryce dragged in a breath from the sweet tug she gave. Lust, strong, urgent and unstoppable, fueled his actions and hers. She released his lips panting hot sexy breaths against his cheek while jerking and stroking his shaft. He licked the sore sting he was sure he left behind, groaning with his eyes at half-mast, barely seeing. Every nerve in his dick was a lightning rod for pleasure. It was all he could do to hold on. Her eyes fluttered shut when he lowered his hands and lifted her skirt. “Where are your panties?”
“I took them off before I came in,” she breathed. “By request.”
“My pet, my sweet, sweet pet. But I have to wonder if you wore them with him,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“Sir, he got nothing from me.”
“You’re lying. Spending any minute with you takes you further from me!” he said.
She stroked him up and down, holding his stare.
“Then punish me. Sir,” she said softly.
He lifted her, and soon she guided him to her core. Wet, tight and ready, her muscles clenched upon entry. Bryce pinned her to the wall, her dress hem gathered all the way to her waist and her legs locked securely. She gasped when he got in, her head thrown back, her spine arching.
“You like that?” he grunted, barely hanging on himself, but watching every emotion play out over her face, determined to prove that resistance was pointless. She uttered something, an indecipherable sound as he eased out of her only to slam into her once again. “That cherry ass of yours still tight for me? Is it? I want that, too. Before the night is over you’ll give it up, won’t you… won’t you?”
She shuddered against him, her vaginal muscles coming down crushingly tight, causing him to moan and work his own ass with urgent thrusts.
“Tell me,” he demanded as he grabbed her hair and gave it a gentle tug. She was forced to bow her back from the wall. He pressed her ass to it as he pumped up into her tight pussy, “Tell me that this is enough and don’t deny it. It’s really why you came. That bastard can’t have you. You know that, don’t you? Tell me the truth!”
Destini shook her head and clung to defiance, what little she had left. Her brown eyes went wild with amber lights. “No,” she whimpered. “I rather have my punishment instead.”
He drove into her again and again, his dick hitting deep with long strokes that had him grunting each time he slipped in and out her tight clenching walls. “You made your choice, to stay, to be mine! Just mine!” he reminded her. She clung to him. Her eyelids fluttered then closed. He let his body set the rhythm, taking him closer to the end.
“Tell me!” He yanked harder causing her to smile.
Her pussy was the glove his dick fit nicely in. Her bottom lip quivered and tiny beads of perspiration dotted the sweet skin above her top lip, and sprinkled over her brow. Her breathing was reduced to soft pants of air as she rose up and down on his upturned dick. “Yes,” she finally released, digging her nails down into the deep curve along the center of his back. “YES! YES!”
Bryce smiled. “Shout, beautiful. Keep shouting. No one will hear you, and before the night is over I will hear you scream.”
He felt the creamy explosion inside of her sheath. He felt it tightening all around him, drawing him further into her core. Then he released and shot a stream of his own desire. It seemed like forever they stayed like that, pressed up against the wall, connected, joined. Eventually, he let go of her hair. But he stayed in her while their bodies recovered. No sound could be heard but the slow thump of her heartbeat. Then she spoke to him.
“I’m ready.”
Seventeen
Are you sure, Destini? You do this and there will be no turning back. You damn well better be sure, because something is wrong with your lover-boy. I’d hate for you to learn that fact too late.
Bryce eased out of her. Destini slid down the wall. She panted and held herself by the waist. Her legs were jelly. They actually wobbled as she braced a hand against the wall. Her hair was so limp. It stuck to her forehead and the sides of her face. Her mascara now darkly ringed her eyes. She wasn’t sure about this decision. But what choice did she really have? The desire to know him, be with him was too strong to resist.
Bryce stepped back with his dick in his hand. She noticed how he stroked it through the open front of his trousers, not bothering to drop them. Destini felt a little strength return to her limbs. She untied the sash to her dress and let it drift from her arms to fall in a puddle of fabric at her feet. Then she unhooked her bra, pulling it free. She tossed it aside. Remaining in her heels, she was ready to begin. Her skin was covered with sweat and the room was filled with the heady fragrance of their body musk and sex.
Destini walked away from the wall to the hanging leather cuffs from silver chain links. He watched her, stroking his cock as she cuffed one wrist and slipped her hand in the other for him to fasten. Her eyes met with his. No words needed to pass between them. The contract remained unsigned. But did they really need it? She understood the change that had occurred with her life and every rule to follow felt organic. He finally let the beast go and dropped his pants and his underwear, stepped out of his shoes, removed his socks and stood there before her, all male. Mercy! He is a beautiful specimen of a man. He approached and fastened her other wrist, stepping back
and smirking. She looked away, her eyes going to the riding crop. It lay on a table.
“I didn’t use a condom,” he said.
She nodded that she was aware.
“Are you protected?”
She shook her head no.
“Then why did you let me have it raw? You know you will be punished for such reckless behavior.”
Destini nodded that she did.
Bryce walked over to the table and picked up the Birchwood and smacked it into his hand, flexing and hissing with the cut of the air. His eyes shifted over to hers, and she caught the dark lust glistening in his irises, his pupils larger under his lashes. She shivered again. Her arms were spread wide with wrists firmly fastened in cuffs. There was no escape. Destini licked the sting to her lips, feeling them swell.
He towered over her, lightly tapping the rod into the palm of his hand. “You may ask your question.”
“What,” she cleared her throat. “What will you do to me?”
“Anything I want. Everything you deserve.” He let the flat tip of the cord brush over her painfully erect nipple. She was unbelievably hot. Streams of sweat drifted down her spine and between her cleavage.
“You may ask another question.”
“What do you feel for me?”
“Everything and nothing. What I feel for you is much deeper than anything that bastard could give you.”
“But he wasn’t—”
Bryce swatted her ass, sending a slash of heat over her tender flesh. She clenched her teeth.
“Speak when I give permission.”
She felt moisture gathering under her tightly shut lids. A single tear slipped from the inlet of her eye. Not from pain but release. His hand rubbed against her butt until the welts were soothed. “You upset me tonight, Destini,” he said against her ear, his voice breaking with emotion. “Don’t make me feel this way. Not when I only want to worship you. Speak.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Sir.”
“I believe you. Do you know why?” he asked, rubbing her ass and pressing his thick cock to her hip. “There is no end for us. He can’t have you. None of them can. This, for us, continues. You are Ms. Sanders to your students, to all of them, even that bastard who dared ply you with wine and try to take you from me. Destini Sanders, the third grade teacher with a brilliant way of molding young minds. But with me, you are simply mine, of course, with a little Rain.”