Good Karma

by Donya Lynne

  And for the third time that night, heat fired low in her belly. Every moment with Mark, every breath she took, and every secret glance led her one step closer to the woman she wanted to become. And further away from the uncertain, naïve girl she wanted to leave behind.

  Chapter 20

  If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything.

  -Marilyn Monroe

  Back at his condo, Mark packed a duffel for his trip back to Chicago tomorrow morning then peeled off his shirt and jeans and slipped into a pair of flannel pajama pants.

  He was still semi-erect from his evening with Karma.

  She was quite the character. He chuckled as he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, recalling the look on her face when he had pulled out the vibrator. Priceless. In an instant, he had known she’d never used one before.

  That was going to change. If he had his way and enough time, she would get very familiar with toys in the bedroom. She was about to experience a lot of firsts, and Mark wanted to be there to experience every single one. Screw that. He wanted to give them to her.

  He rinsed off his toothbrush, shut off the bathroom light, and situated himself against the full, firm pillows propped against the bed’s headboard as he snagged the remote from the nightstand and turned on the flat screen across the room, trying to ignore the ache between his legs.

  Karma’s reaction to the vibrator was exactly why he had given it to her in the first place. She needed to get more familiar with her body and lose her inhibition about taking pleasure for herself.

  He liked the thought that he would be her first. Not her first first, but he would be the first to give her an orgasm she didn’t have to give herself. And he would give her an orgasm. No doubt about it. That little angel was going to fall apart under his touch if it was the last thing he did.

  He took his phone off the nightstand and typed out a text. You’re not trying out your new toy, are you?

  A minute later, she sent him a reply. What if I am?

  Oh, she wanted to play, huh? Then you’re breaking the rules and I’ll have to punish you.

  Punish me?

  Yes. Punish you.

  It took a few minutes to get a reply. Are you being serious?

  He laughed. She was adorably gullible. How could he not play with her just a little? I’m very serious.

  It took her a while to reply, as if she were trying to decipher just how serious he was. I’m not playing. Just reading. I turned on the vibrator, but that’s all. I swear.

  He could almost see her in a tizzy. In time, she would learn when he was joking and when he was serious, and that he would never punish her. Not like that. If he ever played those kinds of games, that’s all they would be. Games.

  LOL. I’m only kidding. I wouldn’t punish you.

  You’re mean.

  He chuckled. And you’re adorable.

  You’re forgiven.

  She could be so cute. Thank you. But I seriously do want you to refrain from using your new toy for the time being. Methods, Miss Mason. I have methods.

  Yes, yes. Methods. Why do I get the impression your methods are going to be the death of me?

  He grinned. If they work, they WILL be the death of you, my adorable protégé. The death of the old you and the birth of someone new.

  I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for anything philosophical right now. I’m too busy reading about my clitoris, the little engine that could.

  Mark’s eyes shot wide. Excuse me? Come again?

  I can’t “come again.” You won’t allow me to come at all right now, Mr. Strong.

  Oh now, who was this little vixen texting him, because she surely wasn’t sweet, innocent Karma. I never said you couldn’t come, just that you can’t use your favorite new toy. But more importantly, who are you? And what did you do with sweet, innocent Miss Mason?

  LOL. She’s right here and if you could see her face, you’d see she’s very embarrassed.

  And why would she be embarrassed?

  Because she’s not used to saying such things.

  Well, we’ll just have to work that out of her, won’t we? I like her potty mouth. A woman who looked innocent yet engaged in dirty talk was so sexy.

  You would.

  I’m hurt.

  No you’re not.

  Yes I am. I’m a very sensitive guy.

  Sensitive my ass, Mr. Strong.

  He threw his head back and laughed. So feisty. Fine. Call my bluff. But I want you to tell me more about your reading material. Would you care to elaborate on what you’re reading this evening?

  Not at the moment.

  Do I have to go back to your apartment? If I do, I might have to rethink that whole punishment thing.

  Ugh. You are relentless. Stinker. >:(

  Who would have thought texting could be this much fun. Yes, I am. :)

  Fine. I’m reading one of the books you got me. The papaya book. Second chapter: Her Clitoris: The Little Engine That Could. I’m assuming you know what I’m talking about since you told me you’ve read this book.

  Yes. I did. And yes, I do. He had read parts of that book several times, in fact. That book had left the women he had dated very satisfied…and occasionally speechless. It was a book every man should read and study.

  So, you understand just how important the little engine is, right? she texted.

  His grin grew wider. Yes. I’m very aware of its importance.

  Okay. Good. Just so we have that clear.

  He waited a moment before replying. Just wait till you see what my tongue can make your little engine do when my finger pays a visit to your Kegel-enhanced G-spot, Miss Mason. (Damn, I wish I could see your face right now)

  It took longer for her next text to arrive. If you could, you’d laugh at how red it is. And then there’s that whole deer-in-the-headlights look I’m working. It’s quite sexy. I can’t believe you said that, btw.

  Oh, believe it, Miss Mason. I said it, and I mean it. I can’t wait to take you and your little engine to all sorts of wonderful places.

  You keep saying things like that and I’ll have to break your rule.

  Don’t you dare. I want you saving that for me.

  Selfish much?

  Damn straight. Your new vibrator doesn’t get a taste until I do. And once more I wish I could see your face. He could text her all night.

  MR. STRONG! Stop that!

  LOL. You’re so cute when you text angry.

  Grrrr.

  Mark relented with a sigh. I’m only teasing. I plan on taking my time with you. Alas, but Mr. Vibrator will have you before I do, but don’t think that means he’ll be better.

  Wow. That’s some ego.

  Confidence, Miss Mason. It’s confidence.

  If that’s what makes you sleep at night, she shot back.

  I do sleep rather well. Speaking of which. It’s late. I should let you get back to your…ahem…reading.

  Yes, it is late, and I do have a lot of reading to do. My teacher loaded me up. Thanks for the chat. Good night, Mark.

  Good night, Karma. He waited a few seconds then sent one more message. Sweet dreams of my tongue on your little engine.

  MARK!

  I love when you scream my name.

  Grrr. I’m looking for Mr. Vibrator.

  Don’t you dare.

  Then quit sexing me up.

  The air froze. You’re sexed up?

  Are you?

  He glanced down at the tent in the sheets. Maybe. Are you?

  Extra long pause. Maybe.

  Hmm. Nice. Very nice. He tapped out his reply. Well then…hurry with your reading, Miss Mason. And get started on your Kegels. And I can see I’ll have to get right on helping you with your dildo training, won’t I? Because the faster you work, the sooner we can turn those maybes into something much more affirmative. And much more hands-on.

  He couldn’t wait to touch her in that way the first time. Feel her body react to his. Would she quiver? Moan?
/>   He loved this part. The thrill of the chase. The hunt. He lived for it.

  Karma’s next message came through. Well, if you would stop distracting me, I could read a lot faster, you know. Not that I really mind all that much. Just sayin’.

  LOL. Well, I won’t keep you any longer then. Good night, Karma. Here’s to little engines and all that goes with them.

  LOL. Good night, Mr. Tease. Have a safe trip back to Chicago.

  Chuckling to himself, he set his phone back on the nightstand then shut off the light. What a surprising exchange. If he wasn’t mistaken, Karma might have just started coming out of her shell.

  Chapter 21

  If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

  -Wayne Dyer

  On Saturday, Karma went to her parents’ house and watched the playoff game with her dad then stopped by the store on the way home to pick up milk. Leaving the dairy section, she decided that, while she was at it, she might as well check out the health and beauty department, where she could find such items as…oh…condoms.

  It couldn’t hurt to have some on hand, just in case. Mark had made it clear that sex was part of the plan. It would be irresponsible not to be prepared.

  At least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she slinked off and came at health and beauty the back way, stealth-like, as if that made a difference. For crying out loud, she was just going after condoms, not meth or bomb-making materials. Just condoms. Simple, innocent, latex—

  She halted as she came out from behind a shelving unit full of hair care products.

  Jolene and her boss, Jake, were huddled together. He had his arm around her, his hand on her butt. Her breasts were pressed seductively against his chest, and she was working the same look on Jake that she had on Mark that day she had asked him to drinks.

  Karma quickly ducked back behind the shelf and peeked out in time to see Jo nip the side of Jake’s neck as he chuckled nervously and said something Karma couldn’t quite hear, but which sounded something like, “Jolene, we’re in public.”

  “I don’t care,” Jo said. “I’d fuck you right here if I could. You’ve got me so horny. And it’s your fault for forgetting to bring them.” She pressed in close and nibbled his neck, grinning as if she was doing something wicked.

  “Jo. Stop.”

  She giggled, and Jake squirmed like she had a hold of his penis.

  “At least wait till we get to the car,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m going to ride you so hard tonight,” Jo said. “Just grab a box. Hurry up.”

  Jake snatched a box of condoms off the shelf and followed Jo toward the registers like a puppy.

  Well now. Wasn’t this interesting. Jo and Jake.

  Karma didn’t want to get Jake in trouble, but this was a major ace in her pocket. Jake was married, and not just married, but married to the daughter of Solar’s president and CEO, who was also the founder’s son. Jake was in a position to lose everything if his affair with Jolene became public knowledge. Why would he risk it?

  It was Jolene, that’s why. Her sway over men—except for Mark, of course—was almost mystical. She could make Tim Tebow give it up if she wanted to, and that man had serious convictions about his virtue.

  Karma waited until Jo and Jake paid and scampered out the exit, off to do God knew what to each other, then proceeded into the aisle they had just vacated. There were so many condom options. Ribbed. Extra large. Colored. Plain. And about a hundred different brands. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Jo and Jake long enough to focus on selecting one.

  How long had their affair been going on? The two certainly looked comfortable with each other. She filed through her mental database of all the times she had seen the two together in the office. The way they looked at each other. The way they hushed any time anyone was near. The closed-door meetings he had with her every week.

  Holy crap! This had been going on for a while. How had she never noticed?

  Because she was little Miss Naïve, that’s why. She simply didn’t notice such things. But surely someone had. Then again, maybe not. Or maybe they had and didn’t care or didn’t want to get involved.

  Abandoning the condoms, Karma made her way to the checkout and paid for the milk, her mind swimming with the knowledge that had fallen into her lap. She hoped she would never have to use it, but it was a nice safety net.

  Aside from her eye-opening Saturday night, Karma spent most of the weekend gobbling up the books Mark had given her. It was fascinating reading. She had learned more about her body and his than she had in a whole semester of sex ed, and with a little self-exploration with her finger, she had discovered her G-spot. She had even given herself her first G-spot orgasm. Mark was right. It was stronger than a clitoral orgasm, but she had a feeling a G-spot orgasm the Mark Strong way would be even better. A perverse thrill shot through her private places at the thought.

  She had also started her Kegel exercises. In a way, her yoga training assisted with those, and she was beginning to understand what Mark had meant by how she would thank him for introducing her to them. As she did the exercises, she actually got turned on. Enough so that afterward, she was aroused enough to masturbate and explore her G-spot again. And just wow. After Kegels, that little dynamo was especially sensitive and packed an even bigger punch.

  Monday night, after a day that saw Mark go from one meeting to the next, Karma sat on the couch, watching a weather update for an approaching storm, waiting for Mark to arrive. He had texted earlier that he was finishing up his last meeting and would be over as soon as he grabbed a quick bite and a shower. He had offered to bring her dinner, but she had already eaten.

  A little before eight o’clock, he announced himself with a quiet knock.

  “Hi, stranger,” he said, all charming smile and dazzling eyes. He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

  “Hi.” She blushed and looked away.

  After a few days apart, some of her bravado from Friday’s text session had dissipated.

  She closed the door behind him. The man sure could work a pair of jeans. And royal blue? He looked good in blue. And red. And black. And…hell, Mark could make 70s polyester plaid and a Fu Manchu look good.

  “I brought dessert,” he said. He lifted a plain white bag.

  “Dessert?” She followed him to the kitchen.

  He motioned for her to have a seat at the bar. “No peeking.”

  “You like surprises, don’t you?” She sat down on a bar stool and leaned on her elbows.

  “Don’t you?” He glanced mischievously over his shoulder as he set the bag on the counter.

  “Surprises are good. Yes.”

  Keeping his back to her and shielding the bag, Mark grabbed a plate from the cabinet and began pulling out items and set them on the counter.

  “They’re saying a bad storm is on the way.” She gazed at the way the muscles of his back and shoulders flexed and bunched under his shirt as he went about his business. What if she walked up behind him and slid her hands under his shirt so she could feel all that strength roll against her palms? Mmm, that was a nice thought.

  He had such thick arms, too. In a suit or long-sleeved shirt, you didn’t really notice how big they were, but in a short-sleeved shirt like he was wearing tonight, you couldn’t miss them. Arms, hands, chests. That’s what turned Karma on, and Mark had each in spades.

  “Yes, I saw that on the news while I was getting ready to come over,” he said. “Are you afraid of storms?” He scooped something out of one of the containers and placed it on the plate, but Karma couldn’t see anything but the wall of his impressive body.

  “No. I love storms.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Me, too. We get some good ones in Chicago.” He turned back around.

  “So, what have you got there?” She lifted off her seat and craned her neck to see around his arm. All she saw was something that looked like chocolate.

  That was a good sign. Chocolate was good.


  “Just wait,” he said. “No peeking.” He stepped to the side to block her prying eyes.

  She huffed and flopped back down on the bar stool. “You know, making a woman wait for dessert is grounds for getting the cold shoulder.” As if she could ever give him the cold shoulder.

  “We’ll see.” He sounded so self-assured.

  She drummed her fingers impatiently as he worked far too slowly. “Are you plating for Gordon Ramsey over there?” she said.

  He threw her a fake glare over his shoulder. “Hush, or you won’t get any chocolate chunk brownie.” He turned, and in his hands, he held a plate with the most incredible piece of culinary artistry ever created.

  Her mouth gaped as he crossed the kitchen and set the masterpiece on the counter in front of her.

  The brownie was a double stack of chocolaty goodness, one square settled on top of another at a diagonal. Large chunks of dark chocolate nestled within each perfectly baked morsel, and what looked like dollops of fudge oozed like heaven from the sides down to the plate. Golden caramel zigzagged over the top and down the edges, and what looked like vanilla cream was drizzled perpendicularly to the caramel and pooled around the base of the bottom brownie.

  Mark returned to the bag, pulled out one last container with two cherries inside, and situated them just-so on the top of the mountain of decadence.

  “Here’s to chocolate chunk brownies and all they entail,” he said with a smile, cutting off a gooey bite with a fork and holding it toward her.

  “Oh, you’re good,” she said, leaning forward.

  “I know.” He winked playfully as she took the forkful into her mouth. “How is it?” His eyes twinkled and one corner of his mouth curved upward as he watched her eat.

  Flavors crashed together and exploded against her taste buds. This had to be the best damn brownie she had ever eaten. Ever! Angels should have been in her kitchen, singing and rejoicing, or weeping with overwhelming ecstasy, it was so good.