by Lynn Carmer
“Wait! Wait! Carly, please. Just wait.” What to do? Rejecting her seemed so cruel, but she could not let her anywhere near the class. With a start, she remembered what she’d already been doing when she was fifteen years old. The thought made her blush all over again. “I’m not trying to blow you off.”
Internal groan. What was wrong with her today? She couldn’t have used a different expression?
The teen stopped moving, but she hadn’t taken out the earbuds.
Caelen sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to her. Carly frowned, crossed her arms in front of her, rolled her eyes dramatically, and then finally sat down.
“I’m going to tell you a little bit about what’s going on.” Caelen latched onto the end of her hair and started plucking, this time not even trying to curb the nasty habit. It was a miracle she hadn’t plucked her head bald by this point. “I would love your help, but I don’t think it would be appropriate for you to help with the classes.”
“Why?”
“Because of your age and the content matter of the class.”
Caelen was convinced she would just snarl and stomp from the room but instead the girl’s eyes grew round, and she snatched the headphones from her ears. “OMG! Are you starting up those sexy classes again? The ones Ms. Belle was talking about before she—Before she—” The girl’s excitement faded as she looked down at her fidgety hands.
“How do you know about the classes?”
“Everybody knows! The Ladies talk about everything and I figured out a long time ago if I just kind of sat long enough, they would forget I was there.”
“Yeah,” Caelen laughed softly, “that’s what my sister, Brynn, would do. Then she’d come over and spill the T with the rest of us.”
“Exactly.” She sat up and implored her with big doe eyes. “So listen. I know I look young, but I’m super mature. I could really help you with the class. What’s it about? I could—”
“No, ma’am.”
Both Caelen and Carly looked back and saw Ms. Hattie standing by the door, with her hands upon her hips and her mouth set in a stubborn grimace.
Caelen sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Ms. Hattie to the rescue.
“Carly, you know there is no way, on God’s green earth, that I will let you get within an inch of those classes. You are just a baby!”
“I am not!” The girl’s flushed face screwed up tight, and she looked as if she would burst into tears at any moment.
“Excuse me, young lady. Are you sassing me?” Ms. Hattie started to enter the room, her words firm and her dark eyes fierce with determination.
“I—No. I mean, no ma’am. It’s just. Why does everyone treat me like I’m in elementary school? I’m almost sixteen. Do you know what some of the girls have done at my school?”
“And what do those other girls have to do with you? If they jumped off a bridge, would you?” Ms. Hattie held out a wrinkled hand. “Now you get over here and give Ms. Caelen a chance to get her work done. She has been working all morning and deserves a break.”
“But—But—” The girl tried valiantly but there was no arguing with Ms. Hattie. Carly’s shoulders fell, and she suddenly looked years younger as she trudged across the room.
“Now, now.” Ms. Hattie enfolded her in a big hug, and patted her briskly on the back. “The Ladies and I are going to lunch and we wanted to know if the two of you would like to join us.”
“I’m not hungry,” Carly mumbled into Ms. Hattie’s shoulder.
Caelen’s heart started to ache all over again because even though the teen was furious she leaned into the hug, reluctant to pull away from Ms. Hattie.
“What a shame. We’re going to your favorite: Daphne’s.”
Carly perked up a bit. “I love their Greek salad.”
Thank you, God. Caelen smiled and waved the two of them out as they left. “You two enjoy the meal. I still have a million things to work on.”
“A girl can’t live on Pop Tarts alone, missy.”
“I know, Ms. Hattie. I’ll eat something, I promise. But you know the deadline I’m under.”
“Yes, yes. Let’s go.” The two were gone, blessedly, only a few minutes later.
Caelen felt as if she’d run a marathon. Thank God Ms. Hattie had saved her. For now. Somehow she had a creeping feeling this wouldn’t be the last time she saw the inquisitive teen.
*
WITH A FURTIVE glance around, which made her feel completely ridiculous, Caelen opened up the laptop, again, ready to cross this particular task off her list. Unfortunately, it was taking her awhile to navigate back to the page filled with the colorful penises. Most of her precious time was spent bypassing articles detailing prostate health, tips on how to identify suspicious moles, uncircumcised vs. circumcised, and—Dear God! Some of these pictures were…. disgusting. What would she have done if Dare’s penis had looked like that? She yelped and –scroll, scroll– Here we go. The article she was looking for, fellatio techniques. The Hot Fudge Sundae with a Cherry on Top immediately caught her attention.
Turned out Ms. Belle’s tin box of index cards were thorough but very… limited. They definitely described the meat and potatoes of the act but Caelen was looking for a little pinache. A little… Hot Fudge Sundae with a Cherry on top, apparently.
Just trying to understand the detailed technique had her tilting her head, at one point almost climbing on the desk to get the right angle. Who could resist the combination of two such wonderful things: ice cream and head? The description made the endless pictures of ingrown hair and erectile dysfunction somewhat tolerable.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
Without thought, she swiped at her phone, and glanced down before she realized who it would be. There were about twenty texts from Victor.
Miss you, doll.
Give me another chance.
But the latest made her blood run cold.
You know I can make you beg for it.
God, she’d hated when Victor said that. It made her feel small and stupid, as if he knew better than her. Her contemplation on how hard she’d have to throw her phone to make it out the window was interrupted by a small sound that had her glance back, assuming Ms. Hattie and Carly must have returned.
Standing in front of her, decked out in a long-sleeve, black, knit tee and faded jeans, was Dare. His brown hair, a hodge-podge of darks and lights, stood in spiked disorder, confirming he probably gave it a good finger-combing before heading out the door. Arms crossed, he leaned against the frame, a deep scowl on his face. “What have you got there?”
She placed a shaky hand against her racing heart. Why was everyone sneaking up on her today? And why, when she was oh-so-privately trying to memorize blowjob techniques? “Just… research,” she mumbled and tried to ignore the fact that he looked even hotter when he was pissed.
“Research, huh? Looks more like bad porn.”
They’re kind of one and the same, at this point. “You know exactly what I’m working on.” She tried to go for breezy, but his sudden appearance threw her off. Not that she’d been doing anything wrong, but the whole thing made her jumpy. She tried to walk past but he didn’t budge. There were only a few inches separating him, her, and the desk in Ms. Belle’s office.
“Yeah. Just making sure we’re on the same page,” he said with gritted teeth as he crowded her in. Taking a few steps back, she ended up perched against the edge of the desk, and he was even closer, his rich scent enveloping her. “I should know exactly what you’re researching but today, instead of feeling relaxed after a night out, I’m feeling a little… tense.”
Now that the shock of him catching her staring at scary penises had worn off, her anger crept back in. Especially after what he’d done to her after she’d fallen asleep. “Oh, poor baby. Are you feeling a little blue today?” she snickered and then accidentally snorted in the midst of her zinger.
Damn it.
His eyebrows scrunched together so fiercely, she thought they might freeze that way,
permanently. “You’re gonna joke about what you did?”
“Shh! Keep your voice down!”
He leaned in and whispered against her ear. “You’re becoming a broken record, sweetheart. I will not keep my voice down. I am in pain.”
She shivered but managed to pull herself back and he let her have an inch between them. “Really? Well, while you might be feeling a tiny bit of… discomfort, I was feeling a distinct draft when I woke up this morning.”
He looked confused. “What?”
Okay, it was a stupid comparison. Too late to change course now. “You know, a draft? Because all the clothes I’d been wearing last night mysteriously disappeared from my body. Any idea about how that might have happened?”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Nope. No idea.”
“You are such a liar. Well, I hope you got a good look, because taking advantage of me when I was asleep and vulnerable is the only way you’re ever going to see me like that.”
“Hey, I didn’t take advantage. You looked uncomfortable, and since I’m such a gentleman, I helped you out of your clothes. You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you? I thought you had no idea what I was talking about. Now you’re a gentleman? Which is it? Your story is starting to sound really shady.”
“Okay, okay. I may have exaggerated when I said I had no idea what you were talking about.”
This conversation was over. Jerk face. This time she had no doubt she was talking about him. Caelen pushed her way out of the small office, laptop in hand. She was worried someone might come in, meaning her nosy sisters, and they might start asking one too many questions.
Questions she wasn’t ready to face, like, You chose him? Don’t you hate him?
Yeah, well, it turned out you could hate someone and still want to blow their brains out—with your mouth.
“Caelen, wait.” Her name on his lips sounded so delicious, Caelen couldn’t hold back a shiver. “Just for the record, I didn’t touch you. I swear.”
Funny, she hadn’t even thought of that possibility. Why hadn’t she thought of that possibility? She’d been more outraged at the idea he’d seen her naked.
“So you didn’t even take a peek?” Her tone sounded slightly offended.
Dare pursued her, following her as she wound her way through to the back of the old craftsman. “Are you mad that I didn’t? Make up your mind, woman. You can’t have it both ways.” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “You were passed out.”
“I think you mean asleep.”
“Okay, asleep. But compared to what you did to me, that was nothing.”
“Nothing? I was defenseless. I trusted you.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she continued.
“What you did was worse. I’ll admit that you might have felt a little tense after we, almost, you know, but I’m sure you and your girlfriend, Palmela Handerson, had quite a romantic evening together after you left me in bed.”
She could go no further. In her haste to get away, they landed in the laundry room, and she had effectively trapped herself in. The room was spacious with two massive washers and dryers lining the back wall, along with a sink and several large cabinets. The whole room was done in white including the appliances. The only splash of color came from an Oak, rectangular table located in the middle of the room and the sunny yellow rug under it.
She tried to put the table between herself and Dare. It didn’t work. As he stepped closer, he asked, “Who the hell is Palmela Handerson?”
Caelen rolled her eyes. Really? “She’s your four digits and a thumb.”
Dare lifted his large hand, made a fist, and gritted out, “I didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” she asked as she spun around, placing her laptop on the table.
He looked up, his shoulders bunched in frustration. “I didn’t have a romantic evening—or morning—by myself.”
He hadn’t? “Why not?” She held her breath and couldn’t help letting her gaze drift downward. Yup. Hard as a rock.
He paused with his hands on his hips and bowed his head slightly as if he were looking at his shoes. His head snapped up. “Because I wanted you. Still want you so damn bad my balls are sitting in my throat.”
“O-oh.” He had such a way with words. God, they made her hot. He had none of the suave poetry Victor used to feed her. Dare was just pure need, and she loved it.
“You—You didn’t t-touch yourself?” she cleared her throat, trying desperately to keep her eyes above his waist.
He took a deep breath. He looked so masculine and demanding as he stared at her with his head cocked to the side, all of his delicious male heat centered on her. She didn’t think Victor had ever looked at her so intensely, not once in the two years they were together. He was always distracted, always had a million other people monopolizing his time.
“No, I didn’t.” He took two steps toward her and crowded her against the washing machine. “Even though I ached so bad, I thought my dick would fall off.”
“But it would have been so easy for you to just reach down and…” Her right hand reached out toward him, landing on the firm muscles of his stomach, feeling his warmth through his shirt. But instead of pushing him away, she found herself rubbing along every ribbed muscle her fingers could find.
“It just wouldn’t have been the same. I’d had your soft, wet,” he groaned long and low, “mouth, right there, so close. I wanted to feel your lips, your wet tongue. How could this,” he held up his large palm, “compare to all that beauty? I told myself I wouldn’t come until it was by your mouth.”
Damn his devil tongue! She was a puddle of silken heat and it was a miracle her legs didn’t go out from under her. When they were thirteen years old, he’d used that nimble tongue to tease, pick on, and torture her. Who knew that when he had the right stimulation, he could use that diabolical tongue for good?
His words were so damn sexy.
Her hand started to dip down and rested right above the waistline of his jeans. He breathed in deep and ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he teetered on the edge of control, but so far he was following the rules: no touching.
Stupid rules.
Three days. She only had three days left. And even though she had to be strong and not give in to the bone-deep desire sitting just under her skin, she could take charge for once. The possibility of making this gorgeous man as pliant as Silly Putty was a serious turn-on.
It made her feel strong. She liked it.
Dare leaned in and brushed his cheek against her, his masculine scent tickling her senses. His size engulfed her, his wide shoulders blocking out everything in the room except the feel of him. The warm, sexy feel of him. “I’m not kissing you. I’m following the rules. Cheeks don’t count, right?”
He was babbling now and she wanted to laugh maniacally. She had him right where she wanted him. P-U to the T-T-Y. Just as she was about to start unbuttoning his belt, he whispered. “Oh, and by the way, as per our agreement. I pick the time and the place.”
“Just once.”
“Well, I’m playing my ace. So do me a favor and get that tiny hand of yours moving just a little lower.”
She laughed, but didn’t move.
His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. “No playing games. You know if it weren’t for your stupid rules, I could make you beg for it.”
The familiar words penetrated her body and coalesced in a cold lump, right in her stomach. All of her power evaporated in seconds. So much for the putty. Her confidence wagged and she tried to take a step back.
The reminder was too fresh, too raw, taking her back to the last two years of her life. Back to her time with Victor. Back to the text she’d read minutes before. It seemed the oily residue of the biggest mistake of her life was a dark stain she couldn’t wash away.
It always came back to Victor.
That son of a bitch had wielded control like a finely sharpened blade, cutting and slicing, constantly manipulat
ing every situation. It was such an integral part of his job that Caelen had assumed he couldn’t turn it off.
If she were honest with herself, she could admit it had been exhilarating, at first. She never knew when he’d appear, never knew what he’d want from her. They’d parried back and forth until one day she realized just how mean he could become when things didn’t go his way.
Now, with only a few words, the exchange with Dare felt all too familiar. Were all men manipulative assholes or was she just one of the lucky few that attracted them like Kardashians to a reality show casting call?
Some part of her acknowledged she was probably being unfair to Dare, but that didn’t stop her from plastering her hands against his chest and pushing hard. Her adrenaline kicked in, because to her surprise, he actually stumbled backwards, ending up halfway in the hallway.
His smirk vanished. “What the hell?”
Before she could storm off in a huff, he crowded back in. The steps looked synchronized. One step forward for him, two quick steps back for her until she felt the cold metal of the washing machine behind her.
In the next second, he scooped her up and planted her on top of the machine. “Hey, what just happened?” His frown was still in place, but his low voice was much softer.
She shrugged. What could she say? My married ex-boyfriend did a number on my head?
“What. Happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Caelen, I swear to God, this better not become a pattern with you. I don’t like being shut out.” He paused and took a long deep breath. Maybe to calm down? “Did I make you feel uncomfortable? You know I wasn’t really mad, don’t you?” His hands rested on the top of the washing machine, effectively caging her in his arms.
Why did she like his arms around her so much?
“I would kill to have your mouth on me, right now, but I don’t like secrets. That doesn’t work for me. What were you thinking about that upset you so much?”
Oh, I was just thinking about how I finally felt in control, but you had to go and ruin it with your big mouth. “None-ya. I’m fine.”