Blissfully Hers: Bliss Series, Book Seven
Page 11
“Yes. It was. But I did. I missed you like crazy. It’s good to know that you missed me too,” she says. As she speaks, her voice gets softer until she’s almost crooning, and it soothes me in ways she probably couldn’t even guess.
“I did. I thought about you the entire time.” God, I sound like a love-sick puppy, but I can’t help it.
“You know, submissive, this could be a great relationship if you could just get past that one little detail.”
I know she can’t understand. “Dani, it’s not little to me. It’s huge. You can’t know how much trouble this is going to cause if they ever find out.”
A few moments of silence pass before she says, “You mean when they find out, right?”
Do I? Oh, god, I wish. “Yes. Of course. I mean when, not if.”
“Good. Because I don’t want to spend a lot of time in a relationship where I have to hide who I am for the rest of my life. That might be okay for you, but it’s not for me.”
I’m going to sink this before it gets a chance to launch. She’s right and I know it, but the fear … It’s all-consuming when I think about it. “I’ve, uh, I’ve just got to find the right way and the right time.”
“I know. This weekend would’ve been the wrong time, what with all the celebrating. I get that. So let’s change the subject, shall we? What are you doing for the rest of the day?”
“I dunno. I wasn’t lying to them―I really do need to do some laundry. And I should probably get some groceries. My cupboards are bare and I at least need some breakfast food in here.”
“That’s true.” Then she stops. I almost ask if she’s still there, but she finally says, “Would you like to come over for dinner?”
“To your house?”
There’s a little giggle from the other end of the line. “That’s usually how it works!”
“But what about Caleb?”
“He’s going to have to meet you sometime. Unless you don’t want to take this to the next level, and then―”
“No! No, no. That’s fine! And I’m sorry for interrupting you, Mistress. I just don’t want you to think I’m not taking this seriously, because I am.”
“Okay. I get it. Seven? Is that okay?”
“Sure! That’s fine. What can I bring?”
“Yourself and an appetite. Do you like fish?”
“I love fish. It’s one of the things I love about this place―so much fresh seafood.”
“That’s true. It’s sure better than where I grew up.”
“You didn’t grow up here?” It never occurred to me that she was from somewhere else.
She lets out a loud laugh. “Hell, no! I grew up in Boise!”
I can’t believe that. “Idaho?”
“Yep. Idaho. No fresh seafood around there! About the only thing we had fresh was potatoes!” She’s still laughing, and I have to laugh too. That giant potato-mobile has passed me on the highway. It’s the dumbest-looking thing I’ve ever seen, but those Idaho people are serious about their spuds.
“Hey, I love potatoes.”
“You wouldn’t if you were from Idaho, unless they were your bread and butter. Then you’d adore them.” This time there’s a snicker, and I’m having trouble believing her parents were potato farmers.
“I do adore them. And I’ll be there at seven. Please, let me bring something?”
“You said you’re going to the store. Pick up dessert. We’ll eat anything.” She hesitates again before she says, “I can’t wait to see you.”
Do I dare? Oh, what the hell? Might as well. “Can’t wait to see you too, babe.”
“So seven it is,” she says without even flinching, and my chest warms. “See you then. Bye, sweetie.”
“Bye.” Sweetie―she called me sweetie. Yes! Nothing’s going to happen with Caleb there, but at least I’ll get to see her. I’ve got to find something spectacular for dessert, something impressive.
I guess I’d better get busy.
* * *
My hair looks good. My beard looks good. Flat-front chinos, plaid broadcloth button-down shirt, and my new lace-up oxfords. And socks. Guess I’m old school, but I don’t get that no-socks thing.
When I pull up in her drive, I get a surprise―Caleb’s out front in his wheelchair, hose in his hand, watering plants. The sound of my car door closing causes him to spin and face me, and he smiles broadly. “I guess you’re Brandt?”
“I am! You must be Caleb,” I say and extend a hand.
His wobbles as he reaches for mine and he’s laughing. “That’s a lucky guess, seeing as how she only has one son!”
“True! So do you tend to the flowers?”
“Yeah, sometimes. She’s cooking so I told her I’d do it. We water in the evenings. Mornings are so hectic during the work week that this just works out better. Go on in and make yourself at home. I’m almost finished here,” he says and goes back to watering, so I make my way up the front porch steps and open the door.
“Hello?”
“In here!” I hear her call from somewhere in the depths of the house, so I follow the sound and the smell. God, something smells great!
“Hi!” I chirp as I round the doorway into the kitchen. She’s standing at the stove, wearing a beautiful ruffled apron and looking like a fifties housewife. “Look at you! Aren’t you something?”
“A hot mess, that’s what I am!” she says with a laugh, then smiles at my offering. “Oh, flowers! That’s so sweet of you! Um, I can’t stop stirring this sauce, but there’s a vase around the corner there in the laundry room. Top shelf,” she says, pointing, so I stick my head through the doorway. I swear, her laundry room is neater and cleaner than my living room. Finding the vase is easy, and I get the flowers into it and fill it with water, then carry them to the dining table. It’s already set with beautiful dinnerware and flatware.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” I ask as I step back into the kitchen.
“Matter of fact, there is. Grab those potholders and take the fish out of the oven, please,” she says, pointing, so I snatch them up and open the oven door.
Oh my god. Sea bass. And it looks delicious. There are lengths of rosemary draped across it, and slices of lemon too. “This smells awesome,” I tell her as I place it on the cool burners of the stove.
“Thanks. This is a sweet chili sauce that I pour over it. It really perks it up.” She’s still stirring, and the aroma would make your mouth water from a block away.
“Brought this,” I tell her as I pick up a box from the countertop.
“What is it?”
“I get these down the street and I swear, they are the best.” I open the box and listen to her gasp. “Yeah, I know. Gorgeous, huh?”
“Those are the biggest cupcakes I’ve ever seen in my life! And they look yummy.”
“They are. I love my mother’s baking, but they’re the best cupcakes I’ve ever eaten, hands down. I get one about once a week and just have it for dinner. It’s like this wonderful treat I give myself.”
“They sure look good. Okay, I think this is about ready. So is everything else. Caleb made the salads before he went outside. I assume the two of you met?” she asks as she slips the pot the sauce is in to a back burner.
“Sure did. Nice young man. Looks like he likes to help you out.”
“He does. I’ll be glad when his graduate studies are over and he can get a job and his own place, but for him, working and trying to go to school too would be more than he could handle. Some days just getting ready and getting out of the house is a challenge for him.”
“So, cerebral palsy, didn’t you say?”
She nods. “Yeah, and rheumatoid arthritis on top of that.”
“Owww. Not good. My hat’s off to him. He’s got more than enough challenges thrown at him,” I say, and I mean it. The guy is impressive.
“And he keeps a four point oh grade point average too. He works hard.”
“Now I’m really impressed. That’s incredible.”
“Yeah.” She pours the sauce over the bass and I watch little tendrils of steam rise from its surface. “Let’s get this on the table. Would you please go tell him it’s ready?”
“Sure!” I take a better look at the house as I make my way back to the door. It’s gorgeous. She’s got great decorating sense. “Caleb, your mom says dinner’s ready.”
“Good. I just finished up and I’m starving,” he says as he turns off the hose. I watch as he reels it up, then hold the door for him to come up the ramp and in. “Thanks.”
“You’re quite welcome,” I answer and watch as he smiles. I think I’m going to like this guy a lot.
It’s the best dinner I’ve had in a long time. The company alone would make it great, but the food … The woman is an amazing cook. She made these beans that are garbanzo and black beans mixed together with some kind of spices that makes them warm but almost sweet, and her Brussels sprouts are roasted in a honey glaze and soft as butter. I know one thing for sure―I don’t ever want to try to cook for her. She’ll be hugely disappointed.
After dinner, everybody has a cupcake. Matter of fact, Caleb has two, a red velvet and a double chocolate fudge. Dani surprises me by choosing the lemon chiffon, and I have the coconut. That leaves the Italian cream cake and carrot cake cupcakes, and they can have those for breakfast tomorrow morning.
As soon as everything’s cleaned up, we head to the living room. I assume we’ll all sit and talk until Caleb says, “I don’t mean to be antisocial, but I’ve got a project I’ve got to finish, so I’ll leave you two to entertain each other. I’m sure you can find something to do.” Then he winks. Dani opens her mouth, but he interrupts her and says, “I know, I know. Turn up my stereo loud.” My face heats up to boiling and Dani laughs. “I know the drill. Good to meet you, Brandt,” he calls back over his shoulder as his chair rolls down the hallway.
“You too, Caleb!” I call back, then turn to Dani. “Very nice guy.”
“I don’t care if he is my son, he is a very nice guy. His growing up years were hard for both of us. It was always just the two of us. When he was almost ten, I actually considered having another child, but then I decided against it. When they diagnosed him with RA later that year, I was glad I’d nixed the idea.”
“Is his health good?”
She nods. “Yeah. I mean, sure, he’s got RA and cerebral palsy, but no, he’s not brittle in any way. He’s pretty damn healthy, all things considered.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. It means he’ll be able to live his life and enjoy it. He’s looking forward to moving out someday soon. And I’m looking forward to that for him―and for me.” Fiddling with a chain around her neck, she stares down at her lap. “I love having him here, but sometimes I’d like to have my house to myself.”
The volume of the music coming from down the hall has increased significantly since Caleb closed his door. “But it sounds like he’s got the drill down pat.”
“Yes, he does.”
“Do you do this often?” The look she gives me tells me she doesn’t understand. “I mean, have you brought many submissives here? In the house, I mean.”
“Quite a few. It never worked out because as soon as they saw Caleb, they bolted.”
“Why?”
“Think about it. A Dominatrix with a crippled son who lives with her. I’m sure they figured they’d be taking care of him for me while I, dunno, ate bonbons and watched soap operas or something.”
That makes me snort. “Doesn’t look to me like he needs anybody to take care of him.”
“He doesn’t, but they didn’t stick around long enough to know that. And some of them were really, really insulting.”
I may be about to step in it, but I have to do this. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.”
“How many men have you had sex with over the last year?”
“Only submissives from the club, and that would be four. For the record, you’re included in that number. And I suppose your ex-wife was the only woman you’ve ever had sex with.”
“Yeah. That’s correct.”
“I remember you telling me that. Are you sure you don’t want to work with some other Dominatrices? I mean, just for the variety? Because I won’t have a problem with that as long as I make the arrangements and I know what’s going on. Or maybe I’m there with you.”
“No. That’s not what I want at all. I want to be with you.” Shit! my brain screams. That sounds too fucking needy for this stage of the game!
All fear melts away when she says, “Good, because I really don’t want that. When we agreed to exclusivity, I meant what I said. If I’m going to spend time with a submissive, I want that submissive to be you.”
“You are my Dominatrix, Mistress, the only one until you decide you don’t want it that way.”
Her hand comes up and the backs of her knuckles glide down my cheek. “I have a feeling that’s not going to happen.” Then she leans in and kisses me.
God, she tastes like fine wine and I want to drink her in like a sommelier enjoying a merlot. When she moves closer to me, my hands can’t resist her softness, and I pull her into me and squeeze tightly. That elicits a moan from deep down in her throat, and it trips a switch inside me that’ll be hard to reset. Words can’t describe the way I feel when she possesses me, and I want desperately to be inside her. Without ever breaking the kiss, she moves to climb up astride me and I groan at the pain of my erection. I’m so fucking hard that it’s almost blinding, and the feel of her satiny hair in my hands only makes my agony sharper. Being with Mona in no way prepared me for what I feel with this woman. My sisters-in-law are beautiful, sexy women. This one? She’s over-the-top desirable, and every inch of me desires her in this moment.
I’m surprised when she abruptly breaks away, but she stands and reaches out a hand to me. “Come on. Let’s go.” The grip she places on my hand would feel better around my cock, and that’s where I want it―now. Minutes before the hallway had looked only a few feet long, but now it seems miles and miles to the doorway, and when she opens the door, I feel the air vacate my lungs.
It’s Nirvana. I’m serious. The whole room is awash in the colors of the ocean, tan and coral and teal, and the bed is huge and cozy-looking. Everything speaks of indulgence, from the expensive rug on the hardwood floor, to the beautiful leather slipper chair, and the canopy on the bed. It’s the thing dreams are made of, this oasis of a room, and I could see me snug under that fluffy down comforter, Dani in my arms and the rest of the world far, far away. In my mind it’s the next best thing to an exotic resort, all opulence and grandeur, and I want to strip off my clothes and disappear into those beautiful, silken sheets―with her, of course. There’s movement beside me, and I realize I must be standing there with my mouth gaping open when she says, “Brandt? You okay?”
“I … I, um, I don’t know what to say. This is … My god, this is gorgeous. You did all this?”
She laughs softly. “Yeah. I needed a place to get away when I didn’t have time, money, or freedom to go anywhere. This is as close as I could get. I can come in here, grab a book and a cup of hot tea, and lose myself.” Still standing there, staring in disbelief, I hear her say in a whisper, “I took all the other submissives to the guest room. You’re the first man I’ve brought in here.”
That’s it―I just grab her and kiss her like I’m dying, like I’m suffocating and she’ll breathe air into my lungs. If there were a salve for my broken, beaten-up, scarred heart, it’s this goddess in my arms. Why it took me so long to find her is a mystery, but now that I have, there’s no way I’ll ever let her go. Her fingers wind around the back of my neck and tug at my hair, and all I can think about is lying next to her, skin on skin, drinking in her scent and bruising those beautiful lips with kiss after kiss. When I finally let her up for air, my eyes seek out hers and lock with them. “Dani, please, don’t send me away from here tonight. All I can think about is holding you while we
sleep. I … I need you, Mistress. Please?”
There’s a gentleness in her gaze that makes my heart beat faster. “I have to get up and go to work in the morning. You do too. And you don’t have any clothes with you.”
“I don’t have to be there until nine. I can leave when you do, go home, shower, and get ready to go. But I want you in my arms more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.” And I’m not lying. It’s true. If I have to leave her and go home, I think I’ll die on the way there.
Her hand is warm as she strokes my cheek. “I want you here with me too. Nothing would make me happier. Come here.” Hand in hand, she drags me toward the adjacent bathroom and rummages through a drawer, then grins as she holds up a small package. “Extra toothbrush my dentist gave me at my last appointment. It’s yours now. Let’s get ready for bed, shall we?”
Bed. Yes. Let’s get ready for bed. I take the toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste she holds out to me and in less than five minutes, I’m down to my boxer briefs and standing beside the big bed. I feel like I need to make some kind of speech before I slip under that sheet for the first time, but she just climbs in, so I do the same. My god, it’s exactly as I imagined, soft and warm and comfortable, but I’m taken aback when she scoots toward me, rolls to her right side to face me, and strokes my cheek. “So, tell me, what do you dream about?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what do you dream about? Your big dream? Wife? Kids? Big house? Living in Thailand? Traveling into space? Buying a Tesla?” She chuckles at that one, and I do too. “But really, what is it?”
“Hmmm. Nobody’s asked me that before.”
“Then give it a stab.”
I lie there for a minute, staring into her eyes, thinking about the question. “Well, let’s see … I’ve wanted kids for a while now, but that’s not a big dream. House? Nah. I mean, I don’t really care. I would like to go to Hawaii someday.”
“I’d like to go there too,” she says. “I hear it’s beautiful.”
“Everybody I’ve ever known who’s been there talks about how pretty it is. I could never hope to go on a minister’s pay, but with what I’m making working for Boone, I might actually have a shot at it. Still, not my biggest dream. I think …” And then I just stop. I know what it is, and I’m not sure I can bring myself to say it.