by Landra Graf
She extended the glass to him, the touch of his skin clammy like his cheek had been.
“Okay. I’ll order and we can talk.”
“Sounds great.” He took a drink, passed back the glass, and stood to button his pants. “I never knew you were into D/s.”
“I never knew you were into it either, but I’m fairly new to the scene.”
“The profile I got from Madame Eve said as much. What got you started?” He took a couple of small steps away from the bed, appearing steady on his feet.
“Things….” she hedged, setting his water on a cabinet, then gestured toward the bathroom. “How about a shower while we wait for dinner?”
“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me things. We used to tell each other everything.”
“I know. I need a little bit longer to get comfortable with discussing the past with you. It’s been a long time since one of our heart-to-hearts.” She sat on the bed. “I’m afraid you won’t look at me the same.” She didn’t do deep conversation with anyone except her therapist. With friends and family, she kept her conversations playful and away from the topic of her personal life and feelings. “I also don’t do pity parties.”
Royce shifted in close and took her right hand in his. “It’s not a pity party. It’s a conversation. Big difference. You don’t need my sympathy or compassion. I want to know where you went and what you’ve been up to. I think I deserve that much.”
“Yes, you do. And more.” She sighed and laced her fingers with his.
He pressed a gentle kiss to them then let go, heading to the bathroom. “How about you ask me questions? I’m not an interrogator, and I’m sure you want to know what I’ve been up to.”
There he went again, always wanting to make her comfortable with every situation. “Do you always have to try to make me feel better? Feel safe?” She trailed him to the bathroom, pausing outside the door.
“That’s what friends do and I never stopped thinking of you as one. So, I’m going to shower and you can stand right here and ask me questions.” He smiled then closed the door partially. Victoria, like a voyeur, longed to peek around the edge of the obstruction. In their current circumstance, did etiquette demand she give him privacy?
“Oh, shit.”
“What?” Victoria inched closer, ready to enter the room when the door opened. Her gaze connected with a gorgeous, muscled chest, smattered with brown hair. Perfect.
“I forgot my bag.”
A bag? She struggled to focus on his words. She still possessed all the arousal from their earlier escapade, and his naked, toned torso with its perfect pecs didn’t help. “No problem. I’ll get it.”
Heading for the duffle, she searched for anything to get her focus off her horny-as-hell body. Question time. “So what have you been up to since college, Royce?”
“I graduated, received the Bachelor’s in Marketing I wanted. I got a job with a good company in the area and I’m a manager now.”
Holding the bag, she wheeled around and caught Royce’s vacant expression. Something about his response rang false. “Tell the truth. This is me you’re talking to.”
He laughed. “I hate it. The job. Playing babysitter to a bunch of people. I mean, not all the employees are bad. It’s the fact I’m not the hard-ass meant for the role. Upper management likes to think I am, but I don’t think my employees are fooled.”
“Why don’t you quit?” She extended the duffle toward him.
“It’s not that easy. The job pays the bills and I’m responsible for more than just me.”
Her stomach tightened. She’d specifically requested someone with no attachments. “A kid?”
“No. Aunt Maude.”
“You mean you’re still at home?” The thought terrified her. Victoria wouldn’t be caught occupying the same space as her own family for more than thirty minutes. The tightness disappeared, and she gave a silent thanks. If there’d been a woman or child waiting for him, she would’ve been…devastated? The thought sent nervousness creeping back into her gut.
“Are you going to be like everyone else?” Royce looked her over, eyebrow raised. She’d obviously hit a nerve.
“Like how?”
“Judging me for living at home? I get grief from a few co-workers, some of the neighbors. People think I can’t make it on my own, in my own place.”
She shrugged. “They’re assholes.” But she wanted to know the reason. Though she’d been surprised to hear he still lived at home, he must have one.
“Maude had a stroke about a year ago. I moved in to be there for her. Especially after Grandma—”
“Grandma?” Victoria’s shoulders slumped. Royce’s grandmother had acted as her second mom—a supportive mom. Her decisions to cut those close to her out of her life had come with too many painful costs.
“She had a heart attack. Maude was outside and I didn’t make it in time. Bottom line: after the stroke, I needed to be there as much as I could be. I don’t want to risk not having a chance to say good-bye.”
She brushed his cheek. “I understand.” Then she leaned in and kissed him. The duffle between them made things awkward, but she wanted to convey her apologies. He’d never been given a chance to say good-bye to her, either, and any guilt she held could be laid at her feet along with her misguided justifications about keeping her friend in the dark about her life.
He pulled back and gave a small grin, part innocence and part pure delight: a magical picture. God, she wished she could bottle those smiles.
“I’m going get that shower now.” He shut the door, his need for privacy obvious. The night wouldn’t be simple. At all.
She plopped onto the bed with a sigh. The soft mattress and satin sheets were cool next to her bare back, a balm to soothe the internal freak-out. She was in deep. If the pre-shower blow job and conversation gave any indication of how the night would go, mindless sex would be placed at the bottom of the list. Every moment she spent with Royce gave him another chance to make her stern resolve never to cry again over the past crumble. She eased her feet out of the high heels.
One night. She needed to remember that. Nothing more than a chance to act out the fantasy she’d always held close to her heart. But the surprise of a lifetime; Royce wanted her, sexually. Back in college, the fantasy involved a sweet night under the stars with a bit of wild picnic fun. Not the pure erotic pleasure she got from restraining him and watching the look of desire glaze over his eyes, with his cock at her mercy, while he gripped the bedpost. Damn.
The memory of her last stay came unbidden. Victoria jumped from the bed as the shower came on and grabbed the room service book on the desk. Being alone with her thoughts let the memories of the forced intercourse, bruises and marks along her body, and the fake apologies the asshole had given about having too much to drink surface. She flipped through the menu pages, forcing the awful recollection away. Stuck between anxiousness, the butterflies in her stomach, and arousal that wouldn’t subside, she needed release. The best solution: get some relief before answering Royce’s questions.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
What You Need by Landra Graf