When he removes a small jewelry box from the front pocket of his pants pocket my heart starts to race. We’ve known each other less than a week. It seems really soon for a gift like that.
He hands me the black velvet box.
“Open it,” he urges.
I gasp when I see what he bought for me. It’s a huge deep blue sapphire pendant surrounded by diamonds on a white gold chain. It must have cost a small fortune.
“I can’t take this.” I flip the box closed and hand it back to him.
“Why?” He looks at me expectantly.
“I can’t accept a gift like that. It must have cost thousands of dollars.”
He swallows. “I want you to have it.”
He opens the box and removes the necklace. “Turn around.”
I hesitate for a few moments.
“Turn around,” he repeats.
I let out the breath I’d been holding and turn so my back is towards him. He places the pendant around my neck and snaps it in place. “Don’t take it off.”
“Okay,” I agree, even though it still feels wrong to accept such an extravagant gift from someone I’m still getting to know.
“When we’re not together—when you’re at your secret job that you won’t tell me about—I want you to have a constant reminder of me. A constant reminder that you’re mine.”
I touch the pendant. Am I really his? It does imply that in the contract I signed. We have an exclusive arrangement. I’m supposed to be with him and no one else.
“My job isn’t a secret.” I turn back to face him. “It’s just that I’ve worked very hard to build a career. If anyone ever found out about our arrangement I’d lose everything.”
“I’m starting a new job tomorrow.” He doesn’t sound very excited about it. There’s a note of bitterness to his voice. “It’s not a big deal. Something my dad wants me to do.”
McNally Enterprises is a huge multinational corporation. Dante could be doing anything, but he doesn’t elaborate. I don’t ask him either. I have a feeling the more questions I ask about his new job the more he’ll want to know about mine.
“Would you like to see what I got you?” I hold up the Victoria’s Secret bag.
I’m surprised when he gives me a big grin in response.
“You’re starting to make that a habit.” I point to his lips.
He furrows his brow. “What?”
“Smiling.”
“It’s easy to do around you.”
“Let’s go upstairs to the bedroom,” I suggest.
Since he made me take the sapphire pendant I decide to give him a little gift of my own.
“I’m going into the bathroom to put this on,” I tell him when we enter my bedroom. “Get undressed while you’re waiting and sit on the bed.”
He nods, but still eyes me suspiciously. “You’ll like it. I promise.”
I quickly undress and slip on the black lace teddy. I give my hair a quick brush and then check myself in the mirror. I add just a dab of lip gloss and feel like I’m ready.
Sexy, but not slutty. I just hope Dante likes it.
His eyes grow wide when he sees me enter from the bathroom.
“Wow.” He gulps.
“Now just relax,” I tell him as I move his knees apart and kneel between them.
“What are you doing?” His voice sounds strained.
“You’ll see.”
Doug rarely made comments about any aspects of our sex life, but he did tell me on more than a few occasions that I was quite good at giving head. Hopefully Dante will also appreciate this apparent skill set.
He’s already hard when I stroke the length of his cock with my hand.
“What are you doing?” He repeats. He actually sounds nervous.
“Giving you your present,” I tell him matter-of-factly.
As I move my mouth toward his cock realization seems to spread over his face. I lick my lips lustfully as I move in and take him into my mouth.
It never occurred to me that guys could taste so different. Dante’s dick doesn’t taste nearly as salty as Doug’s did.
He takes in a sharp breath as I cup his balls and continue to slide him in and out of my mouth.
For a few seconds I flick the tip of his cock with my tongue, teasing him until he lets out a low moan.
Then I begin sucking again, and quickening the pace of my movement up and down the length of his swelling shaft.
It doesn’t take long for Dante to burst into my mouth and I do my best to swallow without gagging. That’s always the hardest part. As much as I enjoy giving head the final swallow is always a little hard to take.
When I glance up at Dante his face looks pained. Not the reaction I was expecting at all. Isn’t a blowjob the fantasy of most guys?
“What’s wrong?” I ask him.
“Don’t do that again.”
“Why?” I search his face for answers. He doesn’t look angry, more hurt. “Didn’t you like it?”
“I want to make you feel good. I want to see that look in your eyes when I make you come.”
I gulp. “I want to make you feel good too.”
His lips tighten as he seems to consider this for a moment. “Do you like doing that?”
I nod.
“Okay,” he says.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“I told you that you can ask me anything.”
“Have you ever gotten a blowjob before?”
He shakes his head.
“A lot of women like doing that. And then men sometimes—um—reciprocate orally as well.”
Even though he nods I have a feeling that if he’s never gotten a blowjob before the chances are high that he’s probably never gone down on a woman either.
“Do you like that too?” His eyes search mine. “The oral reciprocation?”
I nod enthusiastically. “But it’s just a suggestion. You get to decide what we do in the bedroom.” You are the one who’s paying.
“I think most guys like receiving oral sex, so I thought I’d try it. But if you don’t want me to do it anymore we don’t have to.”
“Maybe you’d better get dressed,” he tells me, clearly trying to change the subject. “So we can go to dinner.”
“Okay,” I agree as I rise from the floor.
I feel really uncomfortable. Who would have thought giving a guy a blowjob could have been such a disaster? Guys are supposed to love blowjobs.
But Dante isn’t like most guys. I’m finding that out more and more as I get to know him better.
I just about make it into the bathroom and close the door before tears begin to stream down my face. I’m not even sure why I’m crying, but I definitely don’t want Dante to know. It will upset him more than he already seems to be.
I guess I just don’t want to do anything to disappoint him. And he seems extremely disappointed with the whole idea of me giving him head. I wish I knew why. I could tell that he was uneasy and I didn’t want to push him even further.
I quickly brush my teeth and remove the black lace teddy. I throw on a little make-up and run the brush through my hair again. I’ll have to go back into the bedroom to get a bra and panties out of my dresser and a dress from the closet.
Dante is already dressed when I emerge from the bathroom and his eyes are on me like a hawk.
“Were you crying?” He sounds panicked.
I know I can’t lie so I just nod.
His asking the question brings tears to my eyes again.
“What’s wrong?” His sounds scared. “Did I do something wrong?”
“I feel like I did,” I admit. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He runs his thumb across my chin. “You could never do that.”
When a teardrop escapes down my cheek he brushes it away. “Please don’t cry.” Then he places a soft kiss on my lips.
“I’ll ask you before I try anything like that again,” I assure him.
“Get dressed,” he tells me. T
he conversation is clearly over.
***
We’re both quiet as he drives for what seems like miles down a deserted stretch of road. I’ve lived in and around Chicago my entire life, but I’ve never been in this area before.
Not that I’d have any reason to be here. The few houses we’ve passed by the last ten miles or so have all been huge mansions that looked like they cost a fortune.
“Why did you give me a sapphire?” I ask as I touch the most expensive piece of jewelry I’ve ever owned in my life.
“Because you’re sapphire beautiful,” he tells me.
Sapphire beautiful.
At the exact same time we both recite a line from Dante’s Divine Comedy Paradise: Canto 23.
“Compared unto the sounding of that lyre, Wherewith was crowned the sapphire beautiful, Which gives the clearest heaven its sapphire hue.”
A chill runs down my spine. How strange is it for me to be a medieval studies scholar, to teach a class devoted to Dante, and for him to be named Dante and obviously be so familiar with his work that he can recite it?
And just how long do I think I can keep my profession a secret, especially when I’m going around reciting Dante? Not exactly something the average person does.
I gasp when he pulls up to a place that looks like a replica of the eleventh century Arundel Castle in England. It’s not too often one sees a building in the Midwest United States with a Norman keep and barbican.
For a moment I wonder if it’s some kind of hotel or resort, but there are no other cars parked anywhere in sight. The place looks deserted.
“Where are we?” I ask.
Dante parks his car and turns out his headlights. “Friends of my parents own this place. They’re in Maui until Christmas. They said I could use their house whenever I wanted.”
“It’s amazing,” I tell him.
“I was hoping you’d like it. The interior is even more spectacular.”
When he rings the doorbell I wonder who he expects to answer. He just said the owners are in Hawaii.
“Mr. McNally,” an older gentleman says when he opens the massive front door.
The man’s weathered face doesn’t even crack a smile. He’s dressed in all black and his short gray hair is perfectly styled. “The Nelson’s told me to expect you this evening.”
“Thank you, Richard,” Dante replies.
The fact that the older gentleman used a formal greeting and Dante called him by his first name leads me to believe that he’s some kind of caretaker.
“This is my girlfriend, Ms. Pine.”
Richard gives me a slight nod.
Once he lets us inside my jaw drops. The exterior is not the only part of the house that looks like we’ve gone back in time. They’ve got the interior decorated in the Tudor style with a lot of heavy dark wood with deep red highlights.
The foyer contains a huge collection of weaponry and armor that I could probably spend days examining.
“This is more like a museum than a home,” I comment as I glance down a hallway filled with artwork.
“And this is only one of their many houses.” There’s a note of contempt in Dante’s voice.
“I can’t imagine living in a place like this.” I’m still in complete awe as I try to take everything in. Doug and I toured the United Kingdom on our honeymoon and saw our share of restored castles, most of which are now open to the public for tours.
This place could rival any one in terms of the artwork and furnishings alone.
“Do you want to look around?” Dante offers.
“I’d love to,” I tell him.
For the next hour I take my time looking at each of the finely decorated rooms in the home. Most impressive are the library with its balcony of books; the chapel with its enormous stained glass windows and the music room with the most beautifully restored Andreas Ruckers harpsicord I’ve ever seen in my life.
While I could easily spend days roaming around every inch of this place when I glance over at Dante he looks weary. He’s been patiently following me through every room, but I don’t want him to get completely bored. I get the feeling he’s been here more than a few times.
“This place is impressive,” I tell him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
He nods. “Are you ready for dinner?”
I hadn’t even thought about eating, but I tell him “Sure” anyway.
“I have a surprise for you,” he says, excitement in his voice.
He takes my hand in his and I follow him down another long hallway to a small dining area. “The formal dining room is too large for just the two of us, and it’s a bit impersonal. I think it’ll be better to eat in here.”
“Okay,” I agree.
Even though the room is a bit smaller than some of the others we’ve seen the decorating is just as impressive.
I rub my hand along the edge of the carved oak trestle table as I take a seat. The table is already set for two. There’s even a candle already lit and flickering, which gives a bit of a romantic flair.
Dante takes the seat next to me. “I hope you enjoy what I’ve selected for this evening’s menu.”
“It sounds formal,” I reply. “What did you select?”
He gives me a sly grin like he’s got a secret he’s dying to tell me. He removes his phone from his pocket and sends a quick text.
“Richard should be here shortly.”
“Give me a hint,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. “You’ll just have to wait.”
“So what do the people who own this place do?” I ask.
“What do most wealthy people do?” He raises an eyebrow. “Figure out ways to make more money.”
“The place is extravagant, there’s no doubt about that. They must be quite wealthy.”
“It’s kind of an ongoing competition every year between the Nelson’s and my family as to who will have the highest ranking in the Forbes List of Richest People in America.”
I wonder how wealthy one has to be to make in on a list like that. I’m sure you’d have to have billions.
“Your dinner, Sir,” Richard says as he rolls in a cart. There are several covered dishes so I can’t see what’s being served yet. I can’t believe how curious I am about the meal. Dante made it seem like it was going to be something really special.
When Richard removes the covers and presents us with the dishes my eyes grow wide. There’s a huge bowl of mac and cheese, with a lot of extra cheese, canned peaches in syrup, and black olives. All of the foods I mentioned to him that I loved when I was a kid.
“And we’ve got peppermint ice cream for dessert,” he states proudly. “Although it was nearly impossible to find four months before Christmas. Apparently a lot of places only stock it around the holidays.”
Dante looks at me expectantly.
“I don’t know what to say.” My voice cracks. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”
“I wanted to make sure it was something you’d eat.”
The teardrop that slides down my cheek betrays me. “Thank you,” I mutter, the words getting caught in my throat.
“Anything for you.”
When I look into his eyes it occurs to me that maybe Dante isn’t just paying to have sex with me. He’s paying to have me. All of me. Not just my body.
He wants my mind and heart as well.
That scares the hell of out of me.
“Will that be all for now?” Richard asks.
When Dante nods Richards pushes the cart back out of the dining room.
Once we’re alone Dante looks at me for a long moment. I get the feeling he wants to say something important, but it doesn’t come out. “Eat up,” he says instead.
I take a spoonful of the mac and cheese, a few olives and two peach halves and put them on my plate. I feel a little self-conscious because Dante is watching me eat but not eating himself.
“Aren’t you going to have any?” I ask.
“I’ve been
waiting to see you eat an olive off your finger,” he jokes. At least I hope he’s joking.
“I did that when I was a little kid.”
“But just think about how sexy it could be as an adult,” he suggests.
“Maybe I should be eating one off your finger then.” I raise an eyebrow.
“Okay.”
He grabs an olive from the bowl and places it on his pinky. Then he moves his pinky toward my mouth.
Without taking my eyes off him I put his pinky in my mouth and ever so slowly and as sexy as I can remove the olive.
“Olives are quickly becoming my favorite food.”
I chew and swallow the olive right before he leans over to kiss me. It’s a passion filled kiss that makes my knees go weak.
“What I’m really hungry for is you,” he whispers into my ear.
I’m actually a little hungry for him too and that concerns me. Never mind the fact that he’s only twenty-two. I was only supposed to be doing this for the money. I wasn’t supposed to get involved with Dante, and I definitely wasn’t supposed to have feelings for him.
“I want to make sure you eat,” he tells me. “Finish your food.”
I still don’t have much of an appetite, but he went through so much trouble to make this perfect meal for me I feel obligated to at least try to eat it.
I take a bite of the mac and cheese. It’s definitely extra cheesy. It immediately brings back memories of helping my mom make mac and cheese on cold winter Sunday afternoons.
“You look sad,” Dante observes. He’s still watching me eat and hasn’t touched any food yet.
“Just thinking about my mom.” I point to the food on my plate. “This reminds me of her.”
“How long has it been since she died?” he asks.
“Seven years, but I still miss her.”
“How did she die? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I shake my head. “I don’t mind. Ovarian cancer. My dad died of colon cancer a year later.”
“Is it bad that I don’t think I’ll miss my parents when they’re gone?”
“I don’t think feelings are good or bad. I think it’s sad that you’re not close to them.”
Pain fills his eyes and it breaks my heart. He stabs at a peach and plops it down on his plate. He continues to poke at it, but doesn’t eat it.
I take a few more small bites of the mac and cheese before I put my fork down.
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