“Yeah,” I moaned and shifted, the cotton of the sheets was abrasive against my skin.
“Pull it down over your eyes.”
I did as I was told.
“Good girl. What are you wearing?”
“Mmm,” I hummed as I ran my palm in slow circles on my bare belly, alighting the nerve endings, ratcheting up the sensitivity one more notch.
“A tank top.”
“Is that it?”
“Panties,” I answered.
“Take them off.”
I sighed as my mind warred. I hated obeying anyone…except him.
I relented, peeled them down my legs, and kicked them off my feet.
“They off?”
“Yeah.”
“Good girl. How wet are you?”
This was embarrassing. Mortifying. Arousing.
“So wet,” I murmured into the phone.
“Tell me. Put your hand between your legs and tell me.”
I moaned as I snaked one hand down my body, past my navel, over my pelvis, to slide one digit between damp folds. “So wet it’s on my thighs, on the bed.” I removed my finger and swirled my own juices across my skin.
“Good girl. You like when I talk to you like this? Send you flowers? Give you orders?”
“Yeah…” I whimpered before I could think twice.
“Ah, sweet Dillon. Love when you open up for me. Bloom under my hands, my words. Massage your clit.”
“Slade…” I growled just as my hand twitched, fingers aching to make contact, relieve the desire blossoming low in my belly.
“Do it,” came his one line directive.
My hand followed the trail it’d taken just moments ago and I sunk my fingers between wet lips. A small sigh emptied my lungs and I couldn’t bring myself to care. He groaned over the phone and whispered dirty words in my ear. It was the most vile, most arousing thing in the world.
“Love those sexy noises. You get my dick so fucking hard, Dillon. Love hearing you pleasure yourself. Wish you were here, I want you to cream all over my tongue.”
“Oh god,” I groaned and arched off the bed as I rocked my hips in time with my hand.
“That’s it, cum for me. Cum over the phone to just my words. I’m stroking myself right now, imagining you on your knees, head between my thighs as I sit out here on the balcony. Fuck, I want you.”
Nerves exploded and blood surged. My heart beat triple time engorging the sensitive tissue I stroked between my thighs. My hips arched, my back rocked, my head lifted off the pillow and I exploded around my fingers, a breathless groan falling off my lips.
“Ah, that’s my beautiful girl. Tell me what got you off. I’m so close to cumming in my hand.”
The synapses reconnected and aligned in my brain as I came to realize he’d asked a question. “I thought of you, bending me over…”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Taking your belt off, loop by loop, running it through your long fingers.” Just the words I spoke replaying my fantasy kept me aroused, charged up, craving another orgasm.
“Fuck, keep talking.” I could hear his ragged, breathless words, the sound of skin abrading skin. God, I could hear him jerking off.
“Mmm.” I snaked my hand between my legs at the thought, prodding the heightened nerve endings that burned for another release. “You pushed me over, bent over me…and looped the belt around my neck. You rode me, held on to the belt, playing with your strength, teasing my breaths, and you fucked me until I collapsed on the floor, spent and sated.”
“Oh god, fuck. I’m coming.” His short breaths stole the syllables from his words. I caught only every other, but I’d heard enough. My entire body shivered as I listened to strong, sexy, bossy, adorable, thoughtful Slade cum in his own hand to my words.
I felt empowered.
He’d made me call him, made me wear a blindfold, threatened to tan my hide in the most delicious of ways for too tight clothes and unlocked doors, and yet I felt so empowered.
Like I was in control. For once, I set the tone. This was my relationship. Slade said dirty things, called me a slut, something that’d been thrown around town about me for more than a decade, but I fucking loved it when he said it as he came.
To my absolute astonishment, his derogatory words got me off.
And then I remembered I’d just confessed that I fantasized about him putting a belt around my neck and choking me while he fucked me.
What in the ever-loving hell was I thinking?
I’d fantasized about a lot of things, that only the tamest of many, but never, ever had I uttered them out loud.
The knowledge that I was into dirtier forms of fucking, derogatory comments and breath play, for god sakes, took me by surprise. I could never trust anyone to wrap a belt around my neck.
And here I was, divulging my deepest and darkest fantasies to Slade.
My world flipped.
The axis spun like an off-kilter compass.
I didn’t know what was right or wrong, up or down, but I knew I had Slade, the boy next door who fucked me dirty and then kissed me sweetly in the morning, coming down off his orgasm on the line.
“Still there?” His deep voice slammed through my body and tugged me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah,” I sighed and pushed the blindfold above my eyes.
“Best phone sex ever.” His low voice hit me in my core. At that pit deep inside my belly that turned and twisted with anxiety or lust.
He did both to me. Simultaneously.
“I need to get to sleep.” I suddenly needed space, needed some sense of separation.
“‘Kay, baby. Sweet dreams.”
“Night, Slade.” I ended the call and lay the phone next to me on the bed. Palms splayed over soft sheets, I watched the sun rise through the crack in my curtains and thought about the guy that was stealing more of my time throughout the day. Giving me fantastic, oftentimes multiple, orgasms, and was now…wooing me. What a notion. The town slut being wooed by the all-American football star. More bizarre things had happened, I just wasn’t sure what.
I drove straight home after a late meeting, the last in a long line of endless fucking meetings, to get back to Rock Island.
I’d sent Dillon flowers every single day, sometimes twice, one day a third time. I needed her to know I was thinking about her, missing her, and I didn’t want her to forget me, because I was afraid she would. Out of sight, out of mind.
I didn’t even go home when I rolled into town past midnight.
I drove to her.
My hands tightened on the wheel of my truck when I pulled up to not one car, but two, in her driveway. I assessed it, black Audi, late model, not one that a single person in this town owned.
Fuck, this wasn’t good.
Double fuck, my heart fell because I knew this was it. She’d moved on.
It was the same Audi from the restaurant. I couldn’t think straight, didn’t bother to. With fists clenched, I stomped up her steps and planned on bursting through the front door. Locked.
Fucking locked? She never locked her door.
“Dillon!” I bellowed and pounded.
A second later I heard loud footsteps and a few soft murmurs.
“Slade!” She opened the door to my hulking, angry figure.
“Who’s here?”
“Did you just get back in town? What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call?” She turned to glance behind the door and into a part of the house I couldn’t see.
“Who the fuck is here, Dillon?”
“No one.”
“Bullshit. Tell me.” I pushed past her and entered the small space. A bottle of wine. Candles.
Dillon in her pajamas.
“Where is he?”
“Slade. Please stop.” She placed a hand on my bicep.
“Tell me,” I growled and shook her hand off.
“Slade.” She crossed her arms, fury raging in her eyes.
Line fucking crossed.
“You�
�ve been gone for two weeks! Just gone! You think a few phone calls and some flowers make it better? Are enough? You could have been doing anything!” She straightened her shoulders, corrected her stance.
“I don’t give a fuck. I love you and you’re fucking around with someone else. Just tell me who he is.” I ran a hand through my hair and paced the small space. “I’d like to know his name before I cut his dick off and force-feed it to him,” I gritted and stomped down the hallway, searching her bedroom.
“Slade! Don’t you dare say that! You love me but you come stomping in here like a fucking caveman?!” She took chase and grabbed my arm. “Get the fuck out. It isn’t your business whose car is in my yard. Go.” Her grip tightened, small fist pulsing with all her strength to restrain me.
“So this is it? I leave and you fuck around? Jesus Christ, I didn’t think you had it in you, but you told me all along, didn’t you? Can’t say I wasn’t warned.”
“Well, there it is then. Go on, fucking say it.”
“I always do, but normally when I say it, it gets you off.” I growled and snaked a finger down her throat. “He can’t fuck you like I fuck you…slut.” I hissed the last word.
White blanketed her skin. All that caught my eye were her tightening fists and the dark turn of her eyes. What once was a soft blue bled to navy.
“Get out,” she bit, angry tears simmering in ocean-dark depths.
“With pleasure.” I brushed past her, slamming the door with so much force it swung back, allowing warm, summer air into her icy kitchen. My foot connected with the bowl she used to feed the strays and it spun across the step with a hollow clank. An angry snarl emanated from the shadowy corners of the porch. “Fuck off,” I murmured to the old cat as I headed for my truck. “Why is everyone in this house so goddamn hostile?” I gritted as I peeled out of the driveway and headed for home, my good mood smashed to shit in the span of five minutes.
It ate at me for days.
I knew what that night had looked like. Slade may have had a terrible reaction, but it didn’t look good for me. Nor Brian.
“Can we talk?” I murmured in Slade’s ear at the bar. Wild’s eyebrows shot up, pool cue in one hand as he watched us.
Slade gave me a dubious look. It’d been a few weeks since he’d come home from Portland and stormed into my house at midnight.
A few weeks since he’d called me a slut and I’d hidden Brian in the bathroom.
“Nothing to say.” His broad form turned away from me.
“Just a few minutes, I need to say some things.”
“Had enough of your words, Dillon. I’ve learned even your promises are useless.”
As if the air had been stolen from my lungs, I nearly crumpled under his words.
“Please, Slade. I’m off work, I have all night. I need to tell you some things.” Tears burned behind my eyelids. I fought to keep them back. Not here. Please not here.
His eyes turned to catch mine, ice blue and raging mad. He watched me for a moment, fingers tapping out a random rhythm on his beer bottle.
“Fine.” He stood and polished off his beer before following behind me and out the bar doors.
Late July and the ocean air was thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Living on the coast usually kept temperatures low but left humidity uncomfortably high.
We walked a few blocks to the shore before I sat on a small bench. He stood, strong and obstinate beside me, until he finally sat, stretching his legs way out, owning the space around him. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into his lap and curl up. Let him ease away the anxiety and worry.
I didn’t like not being right with him.
We still weren’t together, never had been, but I found myself feeling something I’d never felt before.
“I miss you,” I said into the dark night air as my eyes trained on the thin line of horizon still visible.
He grunted beside me.
“Not gonna make this easy, huh?” I bumped his knee with mine.
“Your time is running out.” He bounced one leg, arms crossed, as he watched the waves roll in.
“I’m sorry, that night looked bad…you came in like a bear and that was bullshit, making assumptions, but…it was innocent. I promise.” I placed a hand on the thigh that’d been shaking the bench we sat on.
“Tell me who he was,” came the reply.
“My brother.”
“What?” His head whipped to mine.
“He’s my brother, Brian. He lives in Camden.” I watched my fingers twisting in my lap, unable to meet his gaze. I held my breath. Counted the stones at my feet, thirteen. Started over and counted again.
“You don’t have a brother.”
“Not one you know about.” I finally turned to see him.
His body angled to mine, hands clasped at his knees, he watched me with concerned reserve.
“My family…I had a complicated childhood. Brian…we didn’t grow up together, but he’s my brother. I promise, Slade, he is. You can ask him. He’s seen that not seeing you, talking to you, has eaten me up. He urged me to make it right with you. You can meet him if you want,” I said the last bit with uncharacteristic hope.
“Okay…” His jaw worked back and forth as he tore his gaze from mine and looked back out to the water. “I went a little insane when I saw his car again.”
“What?” The air left my lungs.
Does he know? Does everyone know? Is the whole town talking about me again?
I swallowed the massive lump that had lodged in my throat. With heart raging in my ear drums I waited.
“I gave you the benefit of the doubt then, but when I saw that car the second time in your driveway…”
“The night you called me a slut…and meant it?”
“That one,” he mumbled with what sounded like remorse.
“That was the worst thing you could have said,” I choked out, making an effort at honesty. Brian had told me to open up, let people in. I carried a chip on my shoulder, he’d been the first to ever point that out. The first to care enough to point it out.
“I’m sorry,” he finally admitted.
I only nodded, afraid to say more. My mind replayed that night, how Brian had stopped by unexpectedly after a heated confrontation with our dad.
“You were an ass that night, but it was kind of hot when you said normally when you call me that it turns me on.”
He laughed beside me before the tension between us finally abated.
“So you’ve got a brother in Camden. Okay, I can handle that, but I’m going to need more details. I don’t want to meet him, not sure I can turn off the rage of wanting to cut off his dick after I thought he was fucking you.” He threw me a cocky smile. “But I’m going to need to know more.”
“This is where things get ugly.” I twisted my fingers back and forth and shook my own leg.
“Hey, easy, tiger. You can tell me anything.” He placed a heavy hand on my thigh to settle me.
“Okay, can we do this at my house though? I need air conditioning and a drink.”
Again that deep laugh I’d missed for weeks bellowed around us. It was a balm to my bruised heart. My own smile spread as we both stood. He grabbed my hand and placed a soft kiss on my knuckles.
“Lead away.” He nodded across the street to my neighborhood.
“Okay.” I swallowed the thick Maine air, gulped it, feeling like I was suffocating.
I had just a few minutes’ walk to collect my thoughts before I had to share with Slade the things I’d never told another soul.
I sat with my legs crossed in her small kitchen watching her make coffee.
“Thought you wanted a drink?” I watched her scurry about and could tell from her body language that she was dreading this conversation.
“Best sober for this conversation, I think.” She pulled two cups down from the cupboard.
“I’m fine.” I held up a hand.
She spun and nailed me with her eyes. “Please have some?”
/> “Okay.” I gave her a half smile.
A few minutes later, long minutes she’d dragged out, and she was finally sitting across from me at the table, steaming coffee between her hands.
“So…I guess we start at the beginning.”
“That’s a good place,” I affirmed.
“Right. Well, my dad wasn’t really around when I was a kid. Gone a lot for work.”
“He was a trucker, right?”
“Yeah, so it was part of the job. My mom knew that when she married him, but…” I watched her hands twist. “I need a smoke.” She suddenly stood and dug in the drawer next to the sink.
“Smoke?” My eyes lifted in surprise.
“I keep it for tough times,” she answered. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone what I tell you. Please?”
“Okay…” I went to stand beside her.
“Please sit. This will come out easier if I don’t look at you when I tell you.”
“What the fuck, Dillon? What could ever be this bad? You can tell me anything and I won’t judge. And if you don’t want to tell me this, you can stop. I don’t want to know something if it makes you this uncomfortable.”
“No, I want to tell you. You should know, I want you to know. For the first time in my life I want someone to know,” she mumbled and sucked a long puff in of the cigarette.
“Argh, stale.” She pulled the cigarette from her lips and assessed it with a death glare.
I smiled and shook my head, amused by her adorable mannerisms.
“Back to the story. Dad was gone a lot, Mom was sad all the time, I was left on my own, blah blah blah, but the turning point, the point I knew that this wasn’t normal was when he picked me up from the first day of school with a hooker in the car. I was thirteen.”
“Jesus,” I murmured and ran a hand through my short hair. Wasn’t expecting that. At all. Looking back, it hadn’t occurred to me that I never saw her dad. The whole town knew he worked out of town, around only on weekends, but I’d never given it much thought until now.
“It was awful, and he just acted as if it were totally normal. Smiled, kissed my cheek, and asked me how school was. He dropped her off on the way home and made me promise to never tell Mom. And I was so smitten with him, so happy to have him with me, no matter how short the time, that I never dreamed of ratting him out.”
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