by Jo Raven
“Because I’d love to make you mine, but my life has no space for what I crave. I can’t seem to let go of my fear and belief that we’re all wrong and destructive for one another.”
“We are all wrong for each other, in almost every way, despite how blazing hot our sexy times together are and how much I wish it were different. The big question is do you care enough to not care about anything else? And you obviously don’t. If you wanted me at the core of your being, then nothing else would matter. You’d strain and struggle and fight for the honor of being mine and of making me yours. You’d face down dragons and trudge through fire to catch me.”
I looked down at my bare feet. “Yeah, you’re right. You deserve a better man than me.”
“Yep. I do. So, what’s the plan for this wedding deal?”
My stomach dropped and my eyes bugged out as I searched her face. “What wedding?”
“Um, the wedding we’re leaving here tomorrow for. You still wanna take me, right? I had to do a lot of mental prep to get myself ready for canoodling with strangers.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s almost a two-hour drive. We’re leaving here at 10 a.m.”
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
“That’s okay. I can buy you a dress after we work. Since I flogged the innocence and wind out of you yesterday, are you up for one more rig? We might not need it.”
She shrugged.
“Never mind. We’ll skip it. I really think we’re good. I’m gonna start editing as soon as we get back.”
“You already told me that when we were working yesterday.”
“We can go shopping. I definitely gotta see you in leather before our exchange dissolves.”
“Right. Leather.” Tears filled her eyes and her lip quivered. Shit. You’re killin’ me. I’m a House Dom, and that’s all I’ve been since I stopped pursuing my degree. My music isn’t enough to support me presently. My other subs were always bitching about not having me to themselves. I can’t do that to you. Not you. See pain in your face when you catch wind of some other chick’s perfume, leaving you wondering what goodies she, they, got at my hand? No damn way. That’d be far worse than separation from me. You’ve known me less than a week. You are strong. You can deal. I’m just not so sure I can. “Go take a shower and get ready, Pet. I’ll make breakfast. Then I can take you out.”
She sighed. “Yes, Sir.”
While she was in the shower, however, I got a call from Stoney who was scheduled to track out the percussion for Chrysalis today, but his tech engineer had to bail due to a broken hot water tank flooding his basement. We’re down to the wire.
Sunshine emerged from the guestroom in a sundress. It sickened me to smear that smile off.
“Sorry, Shay. Change of plans. Gotta work with my drummer at another studio today, recording his percussion for Chrysalis. His tech engineer is brilliant, mixing it beautifully before I even get it. I’ve been waitin’ for two weeks because Stoney was sick. It’s probably best for me to be there anyway ’cause I’m a perfectionist about my tunes. We can both drive to the bank and I’ll get you $500. Should be enough, right?”
“Jason! What? That’s a lot of money. You said you didn’t have a lot. I don’t need that much.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s for a dress, shoes, leather, whatever else you need. It’ll add up. Better to have more than what you need.”
“Might be right. I’ve never bought leather, so I have no clue what it costs.”
I took a shower after we ate, then we left to run errands and went our separate ways. I gave her a spare key so she could get in. I missed her immensely already, just watching her hip-wiggle and drive away. How’m I gonna handle life without her?
When I got back, it was already dark and she was asleep in the guestroom. Crap. I was hoping to play a little bit.
In the morning, she was sitting on the couch, fully dressed. Clothes! She didn’t ask! Her arms were crossed. Her death stare punched me. Uh oh. I was clearly the one in bigger trouble here. Why? Was she mad I was gone all day? “You packed?”
“Not to go with you! And I wanted to be here to tell you why, so I could look into your wretched face as you try to explain to me why you tanked my park program.”
I winced. “How do you know about that?”
“How do I know?” she cried. “How do I know! Certainly not from you! That’s something you, I dunno, maybe should’a mentioned to me on Saturday night when I first brought it up. I called yesterday to beg for one more Sunday, the last Sunday before school starts. And just as resistance was cracking from my heart-felt plea, I heard some dude in the background mention J.D. Delaney was so right about keeping religious shit off public grounds. And then, then, err, I was hung up on. Conversation over. Fuck you, Jason! You are the worst shithead alive. Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?”
“Look. I didn’t know it was your program, but if I had, at the time, I would’ve delighted even more knowing I effectively shut it down and made you frown.”
“What the hell! You admit that? Are you kidding me right now? That’s so despicable and mean.”
“It’s the truth. I didn’t like you then.”
“Well, screw you.” She moved towards the door and I got in her way and snatched her arm.
“Listen to me. Please.”
“You’re disgusting. You piss me off so much.”
“Look. I made the huge mistake of judging first. I saw it as this nauseating church thing, your church, which happened to treat my lesbian sister, Molly, like shit a few years ago after she got raped. I made it my mission to destroy anything and everything associated with that name that does not really represent the true Christ. They were more concerned with her sexual orientation than they were the healing she desperately needed. How screwed up is that?”
Gasping and stepping back, she rushed her hands through her hair. “I’m so sorry for what happened to her. That’s horrible beyond words. Can’t even imagine. Someone should’ve been there for her. If I had been there or known about it, I would’ve supported her. I live in an open and affirmative sorority, so I’m not like that. I’ve worked really hard, even this week, to readjust my thinking about people who are different than me. My program’s ultimately about love, and now, it’s dead. You killed it.”
“I know that, now. I’m sorry. Was I wrong to shut it down? Yes. But I didn’t realize that it was to build positivity, self-esteem, and dreams in kids until yesterday when you explained it. I acted out of what I feel is justifiable spite, used my weight in the region, and knocked it out of the park, literally. I’m sorry. I am. And I didn’t say anything because I really like you. I wanted to dance in your light for a while longer. I understand why you wanna bail now. I wouldn’t want to be with me either.”
She was quiet for several moments. The anger on her face dissolved. “I don’t know, Jason. I maybe, might want to stay … but you’re gonna have to beg me real nice.”
“Shayna, my Sunshine, will you please, please, forgive me and stay, and be my plus-one? I don’t know how, but I will try my best to make this up to you. I am truly sorry.”
“That? You think that’s good? Try asking with your head between my legs.”
I cracked up. “Hey, you goin’ Domme on me?”
“Nope, non-doormat. If you want me to go and grant a pardon, then prove how much you want it.”
Brat! “All right, Missy. Drop your pants.”
She laughed and promptly followed my command. Yum, no underwear. Was she planning on asking for this or just in too much of a rush to care about panties?
I hunched and hiked them down to her ankles, then flipped her over my shoulder, spun and sat on the couch. I jerked her up to my face, tilted my chin up and sat her down on my face. She clutched my head and I had her moaning like a horny ghost in no time. I slid her down to my lap. “Go make coffee and bring it back here?”
“Coffee?”
“Do it. I promise, you’ll be so glad I ordered this.”
When she returned with a mug, I motioned for her to drop trou again. She set the cup down and did as I said, but this time she kicked her shorts off. She cried out and giggled when I suddenly tossed her down on the couch and jacked up her legs. With her soles to the cushions, I took a swig, swooshed and tongue-stroked heat through her petals. She howled in delight as I engulfed her bits in warmth and sucked her until she swelled. I took another gulp and drove my tongue up inside her as I rubbed her clit with my thumb. She quickly came with a violent shake and screamed, “Uuhhhh, Jason, Jason.”
The climax I gave her made her cry, and she covered her face with her hand.
“What’s wrong?”
“I wanna be mad still that you sabotaged my project. That’s what. You deserve lingering fury, dammit. And your tongue makes me melt like nothing else. It’s not fair.”
“I peeked through your bags so I could see what sexy things you bought.”
She gaped. “You did not!”
“I did. That black corset teddy is already making me drool.”
She slugged my arm. “Err, you jackass! I wanted to surprise you.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m not very patient. Pissed again now?”
“Yes. I hate you!”
“Good. We’re back on track now.” Still kneeling on the floor, I tugged her up with a clasp on her arm and slowly pulled her shorts back up. I kissed her navel, then her sternum, then her delicious scowl. I chuckled against her terse lips and left another peck on her.
“Asshole.”
“Slut.”
We cracked up as we kissed, then she coffee-sucked me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Shayna
After we ate lunch and settled into our room, Jason pulled me into a quick scene where he showed me bows, kneels and spreads on the floor. He let me pick my favorite, which was the come-fuck-me position with my face and spread knees to the floor and my hips hiked so my pussy and ass were exposed. He box-tied my arms and put my bits through a sensory circus: scrubby sponges, electric toothbrush, crop, cotton balls, warm honey he sucked off, rubber band snaps—oww, total hell!!!—silk, fur, the contrasting sensations of a rose, and more. My girly bits still stung a bit and tingled during the night wedding as I sat on a wooden chair. I could feel his smirk. He was likely thrilled to be the only one in the room to know why I was wiggle-worming.
Even on a shoestring budget and a prayer, everything looked charming. The three bridesmaids in their differing ice blue, spaghetti-strap dresses held loose daisies, and the groomsmen were in untucked white dress shirts and black pants. The bride’s dress was a lacy short thing, its hem well above the knee, and the groom was in uniform. The most beautiful thing was their evident affection. They laughed through the entire ceremony. I had difficulty understanding everything the Chinese officiant said, but he accomplished the job, and it all sealed with a sexy kiss.
Feeling awkward and totally rude and upstaging in my black knee-high dress with ruffles cinching up to one side into a cluster of rhinestones, as soon as we got to the reception, I downed some champagne to chill out. Oooo, the fizzy sunlight made me tingle and unwound my tight shoulders. That boosted me enough to talk to the bride and groom for a while as Jason flitted around, chatting with old friends. They were so adorable. When they were pulled into another conversation, I returned to my empty table.
“Shay,” Jason called to me. “Come here.” He finger-waved me over.
I stalked over in my heels, gingerly, so I wouldn’t twist a damn ankle. Getting 4-inchers was stupid, but I wanted to look more woman than elf next to The Wall.
He put his arm around me. “Brian, this is the video dancer I mentioned over the phone.”
Humph. Not even a friend?
“Shayna, this is Brian, my roommate from college.”
He held his hand out, fingers curled under like he wanted me to slide my fingers into his grip. “Right. Nice to meet you, Shayna.” He kissed my hand.
“Likewise.” Jason filled me in on some of his friends when we were driving up. This dude was always trying to get Jason to join him on the craziest schemes.
“So, what’ll it take to get you to spread open for this gentleman right here?”
I recoiled my hand and lurched back. “Excuse me?”
Jason grabbed him by the shirt, jerking him closer to his face. Through gritted teeth he said, “What the fuck! Don’t you ever talk to her that way. Ever. I don’t care who you are, I will beat you until you can no longer stand. Got it? Go find someone else to annoy.”
He brushed off Jason’s hold. “Whatever, man. Only joking.”
“Totally classless!” Jason put his arm around me, ushering me to our table. “You all right?”
“Yeah, fine. What a jerkwad.”
“He loves to push buttons, but I didn’t expect he’d disrespect my date, you like that.”
“You told him that? That we’re not screwing?”
“Yeah. We spoke the other day. I said it wasn’t and wouldn’t happen.”
I washed down Jason’s champagne. “Oh, delightful. Is that when you called me a subbie bitch and a fucking prude over the phone?”
He looked pained. “You heard that?”
“Yeah, I heard that! How many others here are thinking I’m some prude? Does your entire contact list know about my virginity?”
“No. No one else knows. I swear. Don’t you, I don’t know, bounce … shit off your friends?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I might, but I haven’t had time to share.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m truly sorry for what I said. I never should’ve told him that. I was just venting my sexual frustration. I don’t think you’re a bitch or a prude.”
Jason didn’t leave me after that, except to fetch us drinks. We shared and laughed about our pet peeves, talked about music, animals and sports we loved, shared our aspirations.
I tried a Malibu Coke at his suggestion and loved it, but the three drinks I’d downed had me buzzy.
We danced, slow and sexy, ohmygod, meltingly, and tore up the floor and people parted and stopped to watch us. The simmering heat had us charged up, and we ended up groping more than we maybe should have. Okay, than we definitely should have. Aw, but who cares!
The more alcohol I drank, the looser and cooler I felt. I am fun. I’m awesome.
Jason pounded back drinks too, so, when we weren’t in a corner making out like bunnies on crack with him clawing up my dress and slipping fingers into my panties, we were enjoying a fit of hilarity at any random thing. Like the catfight over the bouquet. Ohmygod. So damn funny. I slipped and fell on my ass trying to catch that thing. Haha. I ditched my shoes after that and shrank four inches. And the fortune teller was sooo funny. I mean, the cookie … no, the priest. Or whatever. Maybe he’s not a priest. He doesn’t have a collar, but he has an ugly black suit and an accent. Jason and I laughed about marriage with this priest imposter, who was shorter than me, even without my heels. But I could now understand him totally, or maybe I was just more brilliant. Yes! I was not only smart-as … I mean sexy-as-fuck but smart-as-fuck too.
Poetry at an altar is not smart. Not. It’s shitty. I mean, because it’s rarely everlasting, just junk spewed forth when you’re feeling warm fuzzies. People quit way too easily. People hardly ever mean what they say before the life-locking kiss. Jason and I laughed out fake vows on our knees, about how much we couldn’t stand each other and longed to throw our lives away in marital hell because life should be an adventure. Funny. We kissed so wildly, I think his hands left dents on my ass. Everyone cheered and laughed, even that fuck-face Brian. Weirdoes. As if they’ve never seen a real kiss before now! We rock. Jason and I totally and complete rock the world.
Damn. What the hell happened? I groaned, pulled my hand out of Jason’s unzipped pants, and smacked my head but that was so dumb. My hand felt like a sledgehammer. Shit. I was shoeless but dresse
d and curled up in his lap as he slept, reclined on a couch.
Lifeless people were everywhere, some totally nude. Sunlight streaming through the vertical blinds was too penetrating and sharp. Squinting, I slid to the floor, crawled over, and twisted the long plastic handle to close them. When it was comfortably darker, I turned with a moan and took in my surroundings. It was some kind of fancy suite. A dress-hiked lady on the floor had a dude on top of her with his shirt still on and his pants around his ankles. Considering we were drunk out of our minds, at least Jason and I didn’t get any friskier than my hand in his pants. Was this an orgy or what? What the hell!
I crawled back to Jason and stayed on the floor as I zipped away his mouth-watering morning wood. Tapping his thighs with my fingers and chin, I called his name until he roused. All my nudging woke up half the room too. Suddenly, I felt a grumble in my gut. Clutching my stomach, I tried to squelch nausea with deep breaths, but it was feeling futile.
Jason was quick to respond. He stood, yanking me up by the arm, and rushed me into the bathroom when someone pointed the way. He slammed the door behind us, clustered up my hair, and rubbed my upper back as I dropped to the floor with relief that I got there in time and didn’t puke on my Sir. “Uh, crap.” I lost the sour shit in my stomach with a back-aching wretch. Tears spilled and my throat burned. “Uh, go away. Leave me alone. I’m disgusting. And I feel like shit. I never drink. I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not disgusting or an idiot. I liked getting smashed with you. It was fun. That’s a side of you I’ve never seen, you, beautifully with your guard down, totally wild, letting loose for once. You are one hell of a sexy beast.”
“Ugh, not so sexy now.” I hurled again, coughed and spit, and he stood there to comfort me. “Why are you helping me like this? I’m so gross.”
“Because you’re my doll. I brought you here. You’re mine to take care of.”
“Thank you for standing up for me. You did that, right? I didn’t imagine that.”
“Yeah, I did that.”
“I think that’s everything.” I moaned as he helped me stand. I flushed, washed my hands, and swooshed and drank a little water. Note to self. Intoxication is beyond stupid.