Chemistry of Attraction

by Thianna D.

  “Would you like to stay for breakfast?” Rose asked, looking between him and her granddaughter.

  “Thank you, ma’am, but I would actually like to take a little walk with Dina if you don’t mind.”

  “That’s fine. See you later,” she said warmly before taking the bag hanging from Dina’s hand and heading back into the kitchen.

  Using the stiffness of the chair, he forced himself to his feet and walked toward Dina. “Shall we?” he asked, waving toward the door. She turned so stiffly that she looked worse off than he felt.

  “Where to?” she asked as he closed the front door behind them.

  “How about one of the mini parks?” Once they reached the end of the walkway, she turned right and he matched her pace as they made their way to the small park at the end of their housing group. Neither of them spoke while they walked. Brandon wanted to be sure they could speak unimpeded by friendly neighbors or listening ears. When they reached the small wooded area, he placed a hand on her lower back and guided her over to a small bench under some trees. This way it would keep them out of the sun and give them some privacy.

  She sat down and he sat down next to her. Before he could speak, she did. “I really feel badly about this morning,” she admitted. “It was cowardly to leave without telling you.”

  “Can you tell me why you did it?” Maybe getting her to talk about things would be easier than he thought.

  She paused, looking out across the grass, her gaze slightly unfocused. “Last night truly embarrassed me. I’ve never acted like that and no matter what you said in the middle of the night, I was pretty sure by the light of day, you’d see it the same way I did. And then when I woke up this morning, I remembered that I hadn’t told Gram I would be staying all night and was afraid they would be worried. It was easier,” she admitted, “to escape rather than risk having to talk to you.” She shrugged. “I took the coward’s way out.”

  Thinking about that, he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, turning his head to look at her. Slowly she turned and met his gaze. A look of such openness was on her face that he asked exactly what he wanted to know. “What is it about how you acted last night that causes you such shame?”

  She flushed lightly, tucking her hands between her legs and slumping her shoulders forward. It was almost as though she was admitting defeat, though to what he wasn’t sure yet. Her eyes slid back to the grass. “I was such a… slut,” she whispered in a horrified voice. “I forgot, or something, and just wanted and needed and was so damned wanton with you. I’ve never acted that way with anyone before,” she said, swallowing loudly. “What you must think of me.”

  Sighing, he straightened up and put an arm around her. “Dina,” he said in a deep voice, knowing instantly that it would capture her attention. She hesitantly turned and looked up at him. “Who told you that being a slut was a bad thing?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Everyone says it. All the guys and girls I know say the word with derision. Mom and Dad only used the word when discussing someone they didn’t think well of. It… it’s just wrong.”

  Reaching over, he traced her jaw with his fingers. “What if I told you there were two types of sluts?”

  “Two? What do you mean? A slut’s a slut, right?” Her face screwed up and she got that look of concentration on her face that he loved. His little beauty was thinking. Good.

  “Is it? First off, I don’t really adhere to this idea that being a slut is a bad thing. A man who gets his needs met is called a stud. It’s the same thing, but for some odd reason studs are looked up to while sluts are defamed.” Grimacing, Brandon shook his head. “Second, I want you to tell me. What’s your definition of a slut?”

  “Well… a slut is loose, wanton, no morals,” she said and it sounded as though she was repeating back to him some definition told to her years ago. Her voice even took on a rhythmic tone that made it almost sound like a children’s rhyme.

  “That is one definition, I suppose. But did you know there is a different kind of slut?”

  With her brain activated, she just watched him, no judgment, just interest on her face. “For instance, if we talked about someone as a slut, it might mean something derogatory or just a word. But if I use the term ‘my slut’, it means something entirely different.” As her eyes widened, he continued. “My slut is my lady who can be herself with me. She doesn’t have to put on airs or act like someone told her to. She can be herself.” He continued to let his fingers drift over her chin and throat, needing to touch her. “She lets out that animal within, Dina,” he said, hearing the husky tone in his own voice. “And knows I love it. My slut knows I love it when she’s wanton with me, when she opens herself to me, when she casts off society’s rules and is totally herself for me. She would never act that way with someone else. Just with me. To me, in that instance, the term slut is an endearment.”

  “Oh,” she said in a breath, her lovely lavender eyes looking directly at him. “So, you really mean it. That you loved last night.”

  His lips twitched into a grin and he nodded. “Oh, yes. Last night was the single best sexual experience I’ve ever had. And I look forward to it just getting better, beauty.”

  She flushed slightly and then cocked her head. “Why do you call me that?”

  “Beauty?” She nodded. “First off, because you are beautiful. Second, because I needed a pet name for you. I guess I could have chosen honey or sweetheart, but beauty fits you too well.”

  Slowly her smile appeared and grew into something rather earth shattering. “Can I say something shocking?”

  Chuckling softly, he nodded. “Shock away.”

  “I loved last night. Well, before my brain kicked in. It was… kind of like reaching a primal part of myself I hadn’t even known existed. And I really want to feel that again.”

  Leaning forward, he kissed her hard, his hand cupping the back of her head as he took ownership of her pretty plump lips. Pulling back, he smiled as her breathing matched his panting. “Good. Because so do I.”

  * * * *

  There was such a relief in knowing that he meant what he said the night before. And, she was rather intrigued at the term ‘my slut’. It had set off butterflies in her stomach and she found herself wanting to hear him call her that. “So what does this mean?” she asked. Relationships were not her forte. Sure, she had dated and had the occasional hookup. But a relationship was a new thing.

  “Well,” he said, going back to trailing his fingertips along her face and neck, something so devastatingly distracting that she found it difficult to concentrate on his words. “We have this summer. Neither of us knows what will happen in September, so let’s make the most of the time we’ve got. We can continue with what we’re doing: spanking, sex, dating. Or we can add in discipline.”

  The phrase sounded simple enough, but it sent her blood racing. “Discipline,” she whispered. “Gram says it really helps her with guilt.”

  “Do you have issues with guilt, Dina?” he asked gently.

  “Some. I still feel bad for having broken down last autumn. No matter how many times I try to remind myself that I pushed myself too hard and snapped, I still feel badly for it. I should have been able to make it through.”

  His warm chuckle brought her eyes back to his face, half afraid he was laughing at her, but the expression on his face was not what she expected. So much caring was etched in the crinkles around his eyes and mouth. “My dear Dina,” he murmured. “You push yourself too hard. I would be honored if you would let me help you with that guilt.”

  She had no idea what to expect, but trust in the man seated next to her made her nod. “Yes.” He leaned in and kissed her again, softly this time. “Yes,” she murmured again as he pulled away.

  The sun slipped above the trees and shown down upon them. Her eyes slipped to the dark lines she could just see on his head. “What’s your tattoo?” she asked, looking toward the top of his skull. He bent his head forward so she could see it.

&n
bsp; Completely in black, the design was quite intriguing. Besides a few squiggled lines which she had been able to barely see, it was the image in the middle of the top of his head that caught her attention. Five circles interwoven: one in the center and four around it, each one touching and overlaying the center circle. “It’s pretty,” she whispered. “What does it mean?”

  “Technically, it’s a Celtic symbol,” he explained, sitting up straight. “It’s known as the five-fold. In Celtic mythos, it represents balance. The four outer circles symbolize the four elements: earth, fire, water, air. The middle circle unites all the elements with a goal to reach balance between all four elements or energies.”

  “Is that what you strive for?” she asked, intrigued.

  “It is,” he admitted as his eyes twinkled. “But that isn’t why I got that particular tat.”

  “Why did you get it then?” she asked, wondering what had driven him to let someone take a needle to his head.

  “As a Marine, you never show fear and you take on any challenge your fellow Marines give you.” A small smile tugged at his lips as though remembering a few of those challenges. “So, one night I was dared to drink something one of the other men had made. I did it. I don’t remember a bloody thing about that night. Woke up the next morning with this tattoo on my head.”

  It was so unromantic, so not what she expected, that she burst out laughing, doubling over in giggles. “You got your tattoo while drunk.”

  “Higher than a kite is more like it,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I’m glad I don’t remember it to be honest. I’ve gotten several tattoos, but the thought of one on my head? Never entered my mind.”

  “So are you naturally bald?” she asked, intrigued.

  “Oh, no. I shave daily. Believe me, the only way this tattoo looks weird is when hairs start cropping up. But that’s fine with me. I like a clear scalp.” He ran his hand over his bald head making her smile. “Do you mind that I don’t have any hair?”

  “You know I never thought about it,” she admitted. “I mean yes, I love running my fingers through a guy’s hair, but so far? I don’t have any complaints.” She grinned and winked at him. “What color’s your hair?” she asked, looking at the top of his head which was now reflecting the sun.

  “Redhead.”

  “Deep red?”

  “Oh, no. Let’s put it this way. In high school, my nickname was Flame for a reason.”

  “Really? Do you have any pictures? I’d love to see what you looked like with hair. To be honest, I can’t picture it.” She rarely noticed people anyway, but to her Brandon just looked natural without hair. Every time she tried to imagine hair on him, he ended up looking like a muppet.

  “I have a picture album somewhere. Though if you want to see the color,” he said, his voice dipping low and husky, “there’s an easier way.”

  “How?” she asked, noting her own breath was much shallower than it had been a few seconds ago.

  Leaning in, his breath blew across her face and then tickled her ear. “I’m a natural redhead, beauty. I’m red everywhere.”

  Her cunt clenched and she let out an embarrassing moan. Last night she had been too excited to get on the bed and get ready for her spanking to think to look at him naked. Now she really wanted to see him. “When?” she asked, her head feeling muddled and wondering if she was making any sense.

  “Do you have to be somewhere today?” His voice was silky and she leaned toward him.

  “No?”

  “Good. Why don’t we stop back at your grandparents’ house? You can pack an overnight bag, tell them you’ll be gone tonight, and we can spend the rest of the day and night at my place. Really getting to know one another.” Lips touched her ear making her tremble. “We’ll take some time to discuss our rules, too. What do you think?”

  Think? There was nothing to think about. “Yes.” Both sides of her head were in total agreement. Brandon, sex, spanking, and who knew what else. She was so in. As they stood up, for the first time she noticed how stiffly he was moving. “Are you all right?”

  He shrugged. “Just my arthritis kicking up. Nothing I’m not used to.”

  “Damn. And you had to come find me.” Dina grimaced. “Next time I fuck up, tell me your legs are acting up so I can come to you.”

  A strange expression crossed his face before he grinned and chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His large hand grasped hers as they walked toward home and a certain level of peace settled within her. Except for once in undergrad, no guy had ever tried to hold her hand. When Vince did it, she had felt uncomfortable and glad when he finally let go. But her hand in Brandon’s felt right and she squeezed lightly as they walked along. Now that she wasn’t nervous about talking to him, she saw what she had been unable to see before. His gate was slightly off. He must really be hurting. Peeking up at his face, she couldn’t see any indicators. She figured either he had a very high pain tolerance or it was the whole military thing where men were never to show weakness.

  And that was just stupid. Sure, she didn’t want a weak man and Brandon definitely wasn’t frail. But Dina assumed she’d have to help him realize he could lean on her when he needed to.

  When they walked into the Rolsons’ house, there was no sign of her grandparents. “I’ll be five minutes,” she promised as he released her hand and she darted up the stairs to pack. As soon as she reached her bedroom, she pulled her gym bag out from under the bed and stuffed it with a couple changes of clothes, her bathroom products, and at the last minute, her bathing suit – just in case they decided to go for a swim.

  “I’m guessing things went well?” Dina jumped at Rose’s voice and swung around in surprise. Her grandmother leaned against her doorjamb with a strange smile on her face.

  “Yes, very well. In fact, I’m staying over at his house today and tonight.”

  Rose laughed. “Ahh, honey, it looks good on you.”

  “What does?” Dina asked, looking around for her flip flops just in case she needed them.

  “Oh, this is something you need to figure out yourself. What are you looking for?”

  “My flip flops.”

  “They’re downstairs right in front of the garage door.”

  “Oh!” Dina had forgotten she left them there. “Thanks, Gram.” Zipping the bag shut, she gave a quick look around and turned toward the door where her grandmother was… smirking? “What’s that look for?”

  “Oh, my granddaughter’s very smart. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” With a wink, she turned and walked back to her own bedroom.

  While she wanted to ask her grandmother what she meant, there was a sexy man waiting for her downstairs. Dina quickly made her way down to find Brandon standing by the door where she left him. There was still no look of pain on his face, but the way he moved told her he was definitely uncomfortable. “Ready to go?” she asked, unable not to beam up at him.

  A lazy smile crossed his face. “Definitely. Got everything you need?” Reaching out, he grasped her overnight bag and tossed it over his shoulder even as he opened the front door and stood back to let her by. The practical side of her wanted to point out that she could carry her own bag and that if he was hurting he shouldn’t take on the extra weight. But even Dina knew that would be a stupid thing to say in that moment.

  Men and their egos.

  Once they were out of the house and he had shut the door, he once again took her hand as they walked along. Brandon didn’t seem to be in any hurry and whereas usually Dina darted from here to there in a hurry to get things done, she was content to walk along at his side. She hoped the summer went nice and slowly.

  His house was nice and cool after walking in the warm sunshine and he waved her toward the sofa as he walked into his bedroom. The layout of his house was incredibly different than Rose and Jason’s, but she liked it. Looking at the stairs that sat in the middle of his home, she wondered about that half floor above them. “What’s up there?” she asked as he walked back in.


  He looked over and smiled. “Let me show you.”

  At the top of the stairs was a conglomeration. To her left was a completely outfitted workout room with free weights and two large pieces of equipment that she had the feeling worked out every muscle in the body. To her right was a music studio. “Wow.” He hadn’t been kidding when he talked about how important music was to him. “What is all this?”

  “Well,” he said, leaning against the wall and watching her as she walked around. “Besides the piano, guitar, and drums which I’m sure you recognize, there’s also a synthesizer, a microphone, my computer to do recording when needed, and that file cabinet in the corner holds all my notes.”

  She slowly looked around and then walked over to the half wall and looked down onto the combined living room and kitchen. “You must love it up here.”

  “I do. Everything’s close and yet separated from the rest of the house; it feels like my own world. I can lose myself for hours up here.”

  She felt the same way when she did experiments and looking over her shoulder at him, she nodded. “I know the feeling.”

  “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand and she quickly crossed the floor to take it. “Let’s make some breakfast because I’m starved and then curl up on the couch and talk.”

  As she started his coffee maker, he threw together a couple omelettes and before long they curled up on his sofa. Snuggling up to him, Dina sighed softly.

  “Comfortable, beauty?” he asked quietly.

  “Mmm.”

  “Good. Let’s discuss our discipline relationship.”

  She didn’t see why it was so important to discuss it right now, but nodded as she was too content to argue about it. “Okay.”

  “We need to set some ground rules as without them, discipline would be a moot point. So, since we have a couple months, I’m thinking three simple rules you need to follow and if you break them you get disciplined in one way or another.” He paused and added, “And we’ll work on that guilt of yours as well.”

  “You mean spanked?”