by B J Wane
Black hair pulled back into a knot, small silver hoops adorning ears that usually sported larger, longer and brighter jewelry, blue eyes hidden behind black framed glasses, Brett wouldn’t have recognized her yet if it hadn’t been for those legs showcased in two inch black heels. He’d know those legs anywhere.
Kayla had been so immersed in her melancholy mood, she didn’t notice Brett standing by her car until she was only a few feet away. Surprise was quickly replaced with irritation as she faltered before shoring up her defenses and moving forward. How was she supposed to move on and forget him if he wouldn’t let her? She was in no mood to recognize the irony of the situation she now found herself in and, stopping in front of him, she glared up at him.
“What the hell are you doing here, Brett?”
Raising a brow, he stated simply, “I’m looking for the young woman who’s been dogging me for weeks and now seems to be nowhere around.” Lifting her glasses, he smiled into those expressive blue eyes. “There she is. I may not have recognized you in your work clothes, but I’d know those eyes anywhere. You clean up good, little one. I wanted to invite you out for dinner. Actually, I wanted to take you out last night, but you weren’t answering your phone.” He noted the clear polish on her nails and the absence of any rings and found himself marveling at the contradictions between her work persona and her social persona.
“What? Because you’ve seen I can dress appropriately for the occasion I’m now suitable for a relationship with you? I’m still fifteen years younger than you and still that naïve and inexperienced girl you’ve been labeling me since we met. This is not who I am,” she stated indicating her business suit. “You made it clear you don’t want the real me and I made it clear I’m looking for something else.”
What had started out as harmless flirtation and a chance to explore both the unknown and the forbidden was turning out to be her biggest mistake. Standing so close to him again, remembering how effectively and easily he could arouse her to a level of pleasure she’d never achieved with anyone else, it was all she could do to keep from agreeing to go with him.
Brett backed her against the car, caging her in with his arms braced on the hood. “Not so inexperienced anymore though, are you? I don’t know all of you but I think I know enough to know what’s real and what’s not. I had decided, before I saw you just now, that I wanted a chance to get to know more about you. I thought you might want that same chance.”
Standing this close to him, Kayla felt her pulse pick up speed and her pussy swell. It had been that way since her first sight of him and her fast lust filled response to him hadn’t dimmed. On the contrary, it seemed to escalate the more they were together, another indication she was getting in too deep that she should’ve taken note of before now and had only herself to blame.
Before finding out what type of woman Brett needed and preferred to have on his arm in public, she would have jumped at the chance to expand on their relationship, but he had been right all along. She simply wasn’t right for him and best to end it now. “What’s the matter, is Susan what’s her name unavailable?” she snapped then winced at the shrewish tone in her voice. Every time Brett’s number had shown up on her caller ID yesterday after she had hung up on him, anger had kept her from answering, but it was self-directed anger, something she had to remind herself of again now. “I’m sorry, that was un-called for. And, again, I’m sorry for making such a pest of myself these past few weeks.”
She was jealous. Why that made him want to smile, he didn’t know, but it did. By the implacable look on her face, he knew no amount of placating or explaining would change her mind right now. Maybe, what he needed to do was turn the tables on her for a change. Feeling more lighthearted than he had all week, he backed away from her, saying, “So that’s a no for dinner, right?”
“Right,” she quickly agreed before she could change her mind.
“Catch you later then.” Turning, Brett started back towards his car then turned back, saying, “Kayla, just so you know, I didn’t sleep with Susan Saturday night. I was too busy thinking of all the kinky things I still want to do to you. Bye.”
Kayla gaped at him, looked quickly around to see if anyone had heard him then cursed him as she too got in her car and headed home to take a cold shower. Damn it, the man hadn’t touched her and her nipples were stiff and sore and her panties were annoyingly wet. She didn’t think she had enough chocolate in her apartment to make her feel better tonight.
She had barely been home long enough to change clothes, eat a salad and a candy bar before curling up on her sofa to start flipping through channels when a knock drew her back up again. Grumbling under her breath, irritated at having her pity party interrupted, she looked through the peek hole then threw open the door to gape at Brett standing there with a wicked smile and holding a small pink bag in one hand and a white bag from Bourbon Street Bakery, a family owned bakery for over sixty years that specialized in desserts laced with bourbon from the local distilleries in the other.
“Now who’s stalking who?” she asked, her mouth practically watering at the sight of both him and that bag from the bakery.
Smiling wider, Brett took in the Mickey Mouse sweat shirt that dwarfed her, the loose sweat pants that were too long and her bare feet before simply pushing past her, setting the pink bag on a small table by the door before taking a moment to look around her apartment. The royal blue sofa looked soft and inviting, the throw pillows in a wild pattern of browns, purples and greens that should have clashed but didn’t were tossed haphazardly, the coffee table in front of it was strewn with candy wrappers, books and magazines and the plush matching chair had a small crocheted blanket tossed on it.
“I’m not stalking you, at least not yet. I see you’ve already had dessert,” he replied, nodding at the wrappers. “Does that mean you don’t want the turtle cheesecake I brought you?”
Damn the man, how in the hell was she supposed to say no to cheesecake loaded with chocolate, caramel and nuts? “There’s no law against having two desserts. I’ll get some forks.”
“Don’t bother, there are a couple plastic ones in here. Do you like mysteries?”
Bemused by his take charge attitude, salivating over the chocolate gleaming richly throughout the creamy cheesecake he had pulled from the bag and set on the coffee table and secretly glad to see him, Kayla simply replied yes then eyed the small pink bag he had left sitting on the small stand next to the door.
“That’s for later,” Brett mentioned before telling her about the DVD he brought. “You ever seen an episode of Midsommer Murders?”
“No,” Kayla admitted taking the spot next to him on the sofa as she took the movie he handed her.
“It’s been the U.K.’s top rated television series for over a decade about a police detective, his sidekick and the gruesome murders they solve. The best part about this series is there are no irritating soap opera subplots between the main characters, they’re just plain, old fashioned ‘who done its’. I could use a beer before we get started.”
“All I have is wine.”
“That’ll do.”
Kayla went to her small kitchen and poured them each a glass of wine as she wondered why she wasn’t insisting he leave, wondered what was in the small pink package and wondered if he’d strip completely if she caved and did the stupid thing by having sex with him again. Giving up on her pursuit of the man had been difficult when she didn’t see or speak to him for a week, even harder when she saw him again earlier today and wanted nothing more than to get naked with him again. How was she supposed to resist him with him right next to her for the next two hours, his hard body touching hers, her mind more on the remembered feel of that hard body fucking her than on the movie? Glancing at the picture of Brett and his date that she had cut from the paper and put on her refrigerator as a constant reminder of why she had had a change of heart, she hardened her resolve and went to see how long it would take before it softened again.
As it turned out
, she enjoyed the show almost as much as the cheesecake and the man, but as he kissed her lightly good night at the door two hours later with a simple, ‘enjoy your gift’, she was left to wonder what his visit had really been about. He hadn’t mentioned going out again, or meeting at the club and hadn’t made any moves or given any hints that he wanted anything more from her tonight than her company to share the dessert and movie with. Strange, she thought given his reluctance to spend any time with her at all, especially time not spent having sex.
After locking the door behind him, she picked up the bag and returned to the couch. Peeking inside, she felt her face flush with surprise followed swiftly by an aching need she had been unable to suppress ever since the first time she felt his hand slapping her bare ass. Pulling out the leather strap, she recognized the spanker as something she had only seen online, but recalling the feel of Brett’s leather belt snapping against her sensitive skin, her buttocks clenched in anticipation of learning the feel of this shorter, wider strap.
Reaching into the bag, she retrieved the note on the bottom, opening it to show Brett’s bold, decisive hand writing saying: If you’re missing the feel of my hand on your ass as much as I miss feeling your soft, white buttocks turning warm and red from my hand, you might try using this on yourself. If you agree to attend Saturday’s Halloween party at the club with me, I’ll be happy to wield it for you.
Kayla had no trouble remembering the pleasure she had attained from Brett’s spankings, her pussy creaming with just the merest thought of that pain induced pleasure and she missed Brett’s kinky brand of sex almost as much as she had missed him the past week. Since she’d never been shy when it came to giving herself pleasure, she grabbed the spanker before she shied away from the underlying distaste of applying it herself, made a stop in the kitchen to pour herself a bolstering large glass of wine, and padded to her bedroom.
She had her wine down by the time she had stripped out of her clothes and bracing herself on one hand over the bed, she picked up the spanker with the other and tried to get into the swing of things, literally. Twice she managed to snap the short strap across her buttocks, twice she relished the return of that fiery burn that enhanced her excitement and twice she was disappointed that that euphoric feeling of both vulnerability and arousal wasn’t nearly the pleasure she gained when she was with Brett in this same position. Tossing the spanker on her end table, she crawled between her sheets cursing Brett and her own headlong nature that had gotten her into this predicament. Her buttocks tingled and she felt the pleasure from that warm, slight sting in her pussy. When her body’s demands and her own raging thoughts refused to let her sleep, she gave in and slid two fingers between her legs, not surprised to find herself wet and swollen. Wasting no time thrusting between her folds, sinking her fingers into her saturated flesh and rooting out her aching clit, she brought herself to a quick orgasm, relishing the pleasure infusing her, yet disappointed that she didn’t come near the height Brett could take her, and even more disappointed that she felt anything but sated as she finally drifted off to sleep.
Tuesday night, Brett showed up with double chocolate chip ice cream, another Midsommer Murder Mystery and another pink bag and he once again left after the show with nothing but a chaste kiss before telling her once again to enjoy her gift. The long, wide vibrator was accompanied with a note stating: To pleasure yourself with until you agree to Saturday night when I can fill you instead.
After Brett arrived Wednesday night with chocolate truffles, another now addictive mystery and left her with a pair of nipple clamps and a note stating: To add a pinch of erotic pain until you agree to Saturday and then I’ll be happy to give you that pleasure myself, Kayla found herself wavering, aching to have him fuck her again, contemplating the benefits of a sex only relationship, which seemed to be what he was offering since he hadn’t asked her out again.
She spent the day Thursday admonishing herself for even thinking about a strictly physical relationship given her growing feelings for him. Spending evenings indulging in her sweet fetish instead of her newly discovered kink fetish just went to reinforce her desire for wanting more from him than she had a right to hope for, more than he was or ever had been willing to give. That didn’t stop her from anticipating his arrival tonight and when he arrived with a box of dark chocolate, milk chocolate and white chocolate covered strawberries and another episode of Midsommer Murders then left her with an anal vibrator and a note saying: Coupled with the other vibrator, after your ass is pulsing and warm from the spanker and your nipples are throbbing from the clamps, you’ll get an idea of the pleasure another ménage with me and Donovan will bring you, but Saturday night is reserved just for me, she felt her resolve crumble.
She hadn’t used any of her other gifts, even though she had been tempted, and Brett hadn’t mentioned them, which only seemed to heighten her awareness of them, what they could do to her, what she was missing and what she so desperately wanted. By the time she got home from work on Friday, she had decided to tell Brett that night that she would meet him at the club tomorrow night, but only if he’d demonstrate her gifts on her tonight. Just the thought of those devices added to the pleasure she had always experienced at Brett’s hands had her so aroused she was tempted to get herself off before he arrived, just to take the edge off enough that she could make it through another murder mystery without jumping his bones.
As it turned out, she didn’t have the chance to do either because Brett didn’t come that night, didn’t even call. His sudden absence and the quiet emptiness of her evening was the final nail in her coffin of indecision. She wanted Brett and was now willing to settle for whatever she could get and if that meant a relationship of sex only, then she’d take it for as long as he offered. She’d worry about picking up the pieces of her broken heart after she spent the next several weeks relieving this pent up need that he seemed to build in her and only he seemed to be able to alleviate.
The next morning, Kayla called Brett and told him she’d meet him at the club that night, but he surprised her, again, by insisting on picking her up. “But, I want to surprise you with my costume,” she protested thinking of the belly dancing outfit she would wear and dance for him in.
“You can change when we get there if you don’t want me to see you in it before then.” Brett was pleased with her call, more than he had even anticipated. It had been a long week, one that tested his control and patience almost to the point of desperation. Each night he had returned to his house with a hard-on that his fist did little to alleviate then spent the remainder of the night imagining Kayla using the gifts he brought her. Each morning he had awoken tired and edgy, looking forward to that evening but swearing if she didn’t agree to coming out with him tonight, he’d return to her place and apply those toys himself until she was too weak from climaxing over and over to turn him down. Thankfully for both of them, it hadn’t come to that, although, he did look forward to personally playing with her and her new toys. Even dressed in her ‘at home’ garb of loose sweats, he still found her sexy and had no trouble picturing the body he remembered so well. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Don’t eat dinner; we’ll snack at Casey’s before going upstairs.”
He took her out for dinner. Kayla was still reeling from that surprise as well as the surprise of where he had taken her. Magnolia’s was one of Lexington’s most expensive and posh restaurants that usually required a certain dress code which included a tie for men and therefore definitely not her kind of place. But not only did Brett seem proud to escort her there sans a tie, but didn’t seem to be uncomfortable with the difference in her attire and that of the other female patrons. Her skin tight black leggings topped with a fitted, scooped neck bright red and yellow sweater that came to mid-thigh and her three inch red heels was a far cry from the more conservative knee length cocktail dresses in solid colors other women were wearing. When she automatically slipped off her heels under the table, he’d simply smiled, ran one finger lightly across her cleavage just ab
ove the black camisole peeking out of the sweater’s low neckline then handed her the menu. If Kayla hadn’t been well on her way to falling in love with him before tonight, she would have been by the end of that meal. She had never been wined and dined before, and while she’d much rather be at a club like Casey’s, snacking on calorie and fat laden appetizers and being drowned out by loud music and laughter while she anticipated what Brett was going to do to her upstairs, she had enjoyed being wooed tonight as much as she had the filet mignon and the way Brett seemed really happy to have her company.
Kayla refused to read anything into this gesture and, as much as she had enjoyed it, was more than ready to go to the club by the time he paid the bill and escorted her out to his car.
Chapter Nine
After storing her large tote bag that had passed as her purse this evening and which still held the toys Brett had given her, in a locker, Kayla signaled to Colin as she emerged from the restroom, grateful that he had been standing nearby and was watching for her. Upon arriving downstairs, she had managed to pull him aside at the bar when Brett got involved in a conversation with a colleague and enlist his help setting up for her dance. Dressed in her favorite belly dancing outfit, she sucked up the courage to go out among the patrons of their private club without anything on under the sheer chiffon top and panel skirt of equally sheer organza. Her breasts were easily visible, including her already erect nipples, and what couldn’t be seen of her pussy through the panels of her divided skirt would be shown when she danced. Imagining Brett’s reaction to not only her attire but the dance she planned to perform just for him coupled with the hope his actions of the past few days had given her for their relationship was all the bolstering she needed to start her moves when she heard the soft strands of the sensual, compelling tempo of her CD starting.