by MI
“My dad was a boxer before he started working on oil rigs. He wasn’t home much. Used to joke that was why my mom kept taking in strays. To keep from getting lonely.”
“As if you could get lonely in that house,” Justin added.
Caliph’s eyes dimmed. “Dad had a massive heart attack a few years ago and died.”
Jennifer took Caliph’s hands. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
Caliph squeezed her fingers lightly, clearly appreciating her words. “It’s okay, but thanks.”
Justin’s cell beeped and he glanced at the screen, his eyes going wide with excitement. “Hot damn.”
Caliph shook his head in feigned disapproval. “Let me guess. Ned?”
Justin gave his brother a shit-eating grin. “Yep. Turns out my partner may have an interesting, er, prospect for us tonight. You guys care if I shove off early?”
Caliph pointed to Justin’s glass. “You’re leaving money for that beer. I’m getting sick of covering your bar tabs whenever you get a better offer.”
Justin threw a ten-dollar bill on the table with a laugh. “Nice to meet you, Jennifer.”
“You too,” she said as he walked away. She turned to look at Caliph. “Prospect?”
Caliph hesitated for a moment. Finally, he answered. “My brother and his marketing partner, Ned, are best friends. They like to share.”
The light went on. “Women?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He studied her face as she fought to school her features. She certainly didn’t want to look like a judgmental prude when the truth was the whole idea made her hot.
“Oh. Well, that’s cool.”
Caliph laughed. “Glad you think so.”
His words ran over her like ice water and for the first time since she’d agreed to sleep with him, panic set in. “I mean, I don’t, I didn’t—”
Caliph took her hands in his once more. “Relax, Jen. Tonight is just you and me. Threesomes are Justin’s kink. Not mine.”
“What are yours?” The question fell out before she could think better of it, but she didn’t bother to take it back. Despite her undeniable horniness, she hadn’t taken complete leave of her senses. Probably best to put all their cards on the table now.
“Bondage. Domination. Spanking. Wax play. Anal.”
He rattled off his grocery list of sex acts with such ease Jennifer struggled to catch her breath. “Oh. Is that all?”
Caliph laughed at her joke, shaking his head. “You’re adorable.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. His size became even more apparent as she was engulfed in sheer muscle. “Tonight’s not about my kinks, Jen. You wanted to go wild. Tell me how.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. She’d read about—fantasized over—everything he’d mentioned. But there was safety in fiction. Caliph was offering to make her dreams a reality and that scared the shit out of her. “I sort of thought I was pushing the envelope by having sex with a virtual stranger. Starting to think I might be out of my league.”
Caliph ran the back of one finger along her cheek in a way that should have been endearing, but was the equivalent of throwing gasoline on a flame. Her pussy clenched. “Your league is just fine. Tell me where you see tonight going.”
She considered his list. “I don’t know you well enough to let you tie me up and render me helpless.”
Caliph grinned. “Good girl. You’re right. You don’t.”
He accepted her admission too easily and she was concerned he’d misunderstood. “But…that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. I mean…I would…eventually.”
Heat suffused her face. God. Caliph had invited her out tonight—only offered her one evening. She hadn’t meant to insinuate she wanted more.
He cupped her cheeks in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “I love your expressions.”
She frowned. “What do you—”
“You’re a very easy woman to read, Jen. I want tonight to go well. And if it does, we can talk about seeing each other again. There’s nothing to say a one-night stand can’t run over into two. You seem to be a very sensual woman with some fantasies that need exploring. Let’s just roll with it. Don’t shield your words or hide your feelings from me because they aren’t going to scare me away.”
Jennifer wasn’t sure how to respond. She’d come here tonight fully prepared for a one-night stand. Truthfully that seemed like the most she could handle. She’d never mastered casual sex. Ever since she’d lost her virginity in eleventh grade, she’d had a tendency to lead with her heart. If she let tonight trickle into more, wouldn’t she be setting herself up for heartache?
After nursing a broken heart for the better part of last year, she wasn’t sure she was ready to open herself up for more hurt.
“Uh oh. You’re thinking too much.” He stood, throwing money on the table. “Come on, gorgeous. I’m taking you back to my place and fucking you until you forget your name.”
She rose slowly, then hesitated for a moment. She hadn’t lied earlier about what made this night seem wild, even if it felt tame compared to Caliph’s sexual proclivities. Essentially, they really were strangers. She didn’t even know where he lived. This was stupid and reckless.
Caliph held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?” Even as she asked the question, she handed it over.
“Who’s your best friend?”
“Beth.”
He turned it on and clicked on her list of contacts before handing it back to her. “Send a text to Beth. Tell her where you’re going and give her my address.”
“Okay.” Apparently Jennifer wasn’t the only one with common sense. Caliph read her concerns and he’d found a way to alleviate the fear. She tapped out the address he gave, promising to check in, and then she hit send. No doubt Beth would be beating on her apartment door first thing tomorrow morning, excitedly demanding details and a complete recap of the evening.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded.
“You still wanna come home with me?”
She smiled and released a long, slow breath. “So damn much.”
Caliph stopped by the bar to make sure Sassy had a ride home. They’d decided to leave her car at Midnight Ink and ride to the club together. He assured her that her car would be fine at the tattoo shop overnight, so he drove her to his house. The trip was surprisingly relaxing as they talked about anything and everything—her family, his work at the shop, their mutual love of jazz. When they reached his house, Caliph turned the car off, but neither of them bothered to get out. They just kept talking.
Though they’d only known each other a short time, Jennifer felt like she’d shared more of herself with Caliph in just one evening than she had with Marcus during the last few years of their marriage.
Finally, Caliph glanced at his phone, his eyebrows rising. “Damn. Where did that time go?” Nearly two hours had passed, but to Jennifer it felt like the blink of an eye.
“I have no idea, but Caliph…” Her nervousness had evaporated somewhere in the midst of their long talk, and now, when faced with the prospect of going inside, she felt nothing but overwhelming desire and need.
He’d said her expressions gave her away. Apparently he hadn’t lied. Caliph’s eyes darkened with honest-to-God hunger. It took her breath away. No one had ever looked at her with such unbridled lust.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it inside,” she whispered, assaulted by an arousal so painful and beautiful she wasn’t sure she could walk without coming.
“Oh fuck yeah.” Caliph was out of the car and opening her door between one blink of the eye and the next. He reached down to help her out, wrapping her in his huge embrace. She recalled building a tent as a child, tying the corners of a big blanket to the four posts of her bed. She’d huddle beneath it in the darkness, soaking up the warmth and security of her snug hiding spot. Caliph’s hug reminded her of that place, bringing back sensations of being safe and happy.
Neither of
them spoke when he loosened his grip, taking her hand to lead her into his small house. It reminded her of the man—simple, straightforward. His yard was neatly trimmed, the porch clean, freshly painted. When he opened the door and turned on the light, she admired the cozy warmth of his home. Family portraits covered the wall of his living room.
“Want a tour?” he offered.
She shook her head. There would be time for that later. Maybe. “No.” She let that one word tell him exactly what she wanted.
Caliph tightened his grip on her hand and tugged her down a narrow hallway and straight into his bedroom.
“Take off your clothes.”
The quick demand would have freaked out old Jennifer, but the woman Caliph was helping her discover was beyond modesty.
She unbuttoned her blouse, shrugging it over her shoulders without hesitance. Caliph didn’t join her in disrobing. Instead he ate her alive with his eyes, and amazingly, he appeared to like what he saw. Marcus had pointed out the fact that she’d let herself go, that she’d gained a few pounds, as yet another reason he’d wanted out. She shoved that memory away. The bastard had no place here tonight. She wasn’t going to let him cast his miserable shadow on one minute of this.
Jennifer toed off her shoes, then unzipped her skirt. Her actions slowed. Despite her attempts to hold on to her newfound confidence, she found it wavering.
Caliph stepped closer. “You’re beautiful. Perfect. Take off the skirt.”
She reacted without thought—as the skirt, her panties, and even her bra fell away with ease—until she stood before him completely naked. Jennifer resisted the urge to close her eyes, to hide before she could see his response. She wasn’t thin and she sure as hell wasn’t young.
“Turn around,” Caliph demanded.
Since entering the room, she’d noticed the change in his demeanor. Her gentle giant had disappeared, replaced by this commanding, sexy-as-sin man. Every order he issued sent shivers of excitement down her spine.
Jennifer spun a half turn, then paused, letting him look his fill. Facing away from him gave her the freedom to relax, to stop working overtime to shield her expressions. She scrunched her eyes closed tightly and prayed.
Please don’t let him be disgusted like Marcus. Please.
She jerked slightly when Caliph’s hands landed on her shoulders. “Dammit, Jen. Stop that.”
Her eyelids flew open and that was when she noticed the mirror in front of her. So much for playing it cool.
She captured his gaze in the reflection, forced herself to face what she’d been afraid to see.
“What were you thinking about?”
She didn’t bother to lie. “Marcus. He didn’t care for my looks.”
His fingers stroked her shoulders, drawing circles on her skin. “He doesn’t have any place here. He was an idiot and a fool. His loss. My gain.”
She smiled, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, fighting to hold back the tears threatening to fall. God. She’d told him she was broken. Falling apart and crying like a baby in his arms would only drive that point home.
She wouldn’t do it. Jennifer took a deep breath, then turned around to face him. “Do I get to see you naked?”
He cupped her cheeks and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Their first kiss. Like everything about him, it washed away her preconceived notions of how a man who looked like Caliph would kiss. It was soft and warm, nothing scary or rough.
“Go sit on the bed.”
More commands. When she considered their conversations—few though there had been—she realized almost everything he’d ever asked of her had been worded as a demand, rather than a request. And yet that didn’t bother her. Didn’t send her hackles up like it would whenever Marcus tried to tell her what to do.
In fact, Caliph’s orders made her hot, made her melt inside. She walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge to watch as he treated her to her own private striptease.
Once Caliph removed his shirt, Jennifer was able to finally see the whole picture of his tattoos, rather than the half peeks she’d glimpsed at the shop and tonight.
“Wow,” she whispered, rising from the bed. She walked over, compelled to add touch to sight. She ran her fingers over every beautiful work of art on his chest, his arms. Stepping around him, she stroked the large tree that covered his back, her eyes discovering the clever way he’d incorporated the names of his brothers and sisters into the branches and leaves. It reinforced what she’d learned at the jazz club earlier. Family was very important to him. That thought touched her.
Her grandmother had always told her when she was younger to look at how a man treated his mother because that offered a clue about how he would treat his wife. Figures that pearl of wisdom reappeared now—two decades too late. Marcus barely spoke to his mother. Then she considered what a shame it was that Caliph didn’t believe in marriage. Given his undeniable love for his mother, she suspected he’d shower a wife in adoration.
“You’ve gone quiet back there.” Caliph’s deep voice drew her from her thoughts.
“Just admiring the artwork. It’s amazing.”
He turned to look at her, smiling. “I was worried it might be a bit too much for you.”
She shook her head. For old Jennifer, yeah. The image of so much ink would have intimidated and freaked her out a bit. Triggered all those stupid stereotypes she suddenly hated. Now she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything more beautiful. “Not at all.”
“Good. Then I’m going for broke.” He slid off his shoes, unzipped his jeans and dropped them to the floor. Caliph went commando.
Her gaze drifted lower. Her subconscious acknowledged the tats on his legs, but Caliph’s fully erect cock overshadowed them.
“Whoa.”
Caliph chuckled, taking her hand and wrapping it around his thick girth. He kept his grip on hers as he guided her strokes along his hard flesh.
“How long has it been?”
She searched for an answer, trying to calculate months…and then years. Finally, she said, “Too long.”
“Don’t move.” He stepped away from her, quickly pulling a drop cloth from under his bed. She watched as he stripped away the soft comforter, replacing it with the cloth.
“Are we painting or something?” she asked.
He looked over his shoulder at her and winked. “Oh yeah. Art class is about to begin.” He returned to her and kissed her briefly once more.
“Go lie on the bed. On your back.”
Moment of truth. Thank God.
She assumed the position, expecting Caliph to join her, to crawl over her body and give her exactly what she’d been longing for.
Instead, he walked away from the bed, dragging a box from the closet.
She started to ask what he was doing, but something about his demeanor told her to remain silent. Again, she was struck by his dominance, his complete control over his body and tonight’s adventure. He was clearly ready to roll if his hard-on was anything to go by.
Jennifer was very familiar with the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am style of sex. It had been Marcus’ forte, but Caliph didn’t appear to be in a hurry to do the deed. Instead, he was drawing out the experience, ramping up her desires with anticipation. It was a deadly concept. And freaking hot.
After years of lackluster, predictable sex, the appeal of not knowing what was going to happen was cranking up her arousal, making it hard for her not to find her clit with her own fingers to grant herself some measure of relief.
Caliph approached the bed. “I said I wouldn’t tie you up and I won’t. But I need you to lie perfectly still, Jen. Keep your arms and legs where I put them without moving. Can you do that?”
She had no idea, but she damn well intended to try. She nodded.
“Your safe word is daisy.”
It was perfect. He’d picked the one word that would remind her she was in control. That she was strong.
“Daisy,” she repeated, blinking once more against the tears forming.
God. She wasn’t sad, wasn’t scared, yet she felt the uncontrollable urge to crawl into a ball and cry her heart out. What was wrong with her? She was exactly where she wanted to be, doing something she’d never dreamed she’d have the courage to try.
Hello basket case.
Caliph reached into the box and pulled out a candle. She ran through his list of kinks. Wax play. She’d read about it. Knew the hot wax would hurt, but that pain could morph into something even hotter inside. She wanted to experience it and she had no doubt Caliph could make it good for her.
He didn’t pause in his preparations as he removed several different colored candles from the box, then a lighter. He set them up on his nightstand, lighting each one. Once he was ready, he tossed the empty box in a corner and turned back to her.
He leaned over the bed, one of his knees landing on the mattress by her hip. Lifting her arms, he placed her hands beside her head on the pillow. The position was one of pure surrender. Her heart raced as fear, anticipation, and need all morphed together until it took every ounce of strength in her body not to pull Caliph on top of her and force him inside her.
“I’m not sure I can do this.”
Caliph frowned, concern in his dark brown eyes. “If it’s too much, too painful—”
“No, it’s not that. I’m so fucking horny. I don’t think I can wait.”
His face cleared, replaced with a grin so genuine and mischievous, she knew she’d just sealed her own fate. Caliph was going to drag this out, there was no denying it. He’d play with her until she begged and even then, she suspected he wouldn’t give in.
“You’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?” she asked.
He shook his head as he moved lower on the mattress. “No.” He grasped her knees and pulled her legs apart. “I’m not.”
She glanced down and saw her ankles were lined up perfectly with the bottom posts on his bed. Part of her was sorry she’d taken bondage off the table. If it turned out tonight was all she got, she’d regret missing out on that experience.
Maybe a compromise.
“Could you tie just my legs?” With her hands free, she could still escape the bonds, though she knew she wouldn’t try.