“Ready?” he asked striding back to her.
“I am,” she smiled, I’m ready for anything.
Chapter Eighteen
As they rode through the canyon they discovered a thick fog was descending, creeping slowly across the mountains. Pulling the bike into the garage, Blake took Belinda’s hand and led her through the house and out to the patio.
“I’ve never seen anything like that,” she murmured. “It looks otherworldly.”
“I know. The beach will be socked in already.”
“I love the fog,” she sighed.
“It will shroud this place in a couple of hours then hang around all night. You know what that means?”
“It will be cold and damp?”
“It means you’re not driving home.”
“Oh. I guess it would be kind of dangerous,” she murmured, yay, I’m so glad. Thank you, Mother Nature.
“Very dangerous. I’ve driven that road in thick fog and I was glad to get back here. It was no fun. Anyway, I’d better get inside and check my emails.”
“Do you mind if I stay out here a minute? I’m loving this.”
“Sure, do whatever you want. I’ll be at the kitchen table, but before I go I need to ask you something.”
His voice was serious, and a slight frown was creasing his brow.
“Sure. Ask me anything,” she replied.
“Last night, before we went to sleep, we were talking, and you said you wanted more.”
Belinda felt a flip in the pit of her stomach, and locking his eyes she slowly nodded.
“Yes, I did.”
“For both our sakes I need to clarify that, so I’m going to ask you directly. Do you want to be dominated?”
“Uh, yes, I do. I mean, we’re still getting to know each other, but yes.”
Her voice had been almost a whisper, but she had felt the weight of her words. Blake had felt it too, and her quiet, trepidatious sincerity spoke volumes.
“You’re right, we are still getting to know each other, and I needed to be sure. Thank you,” he murmured as he engulfed her. “You let me know if something doesn’t feel right, or if I’m too strong, or not strong enough. Communication is the key. Okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled closing her eyes and feeling a sweep of emotion.
“Now we know where we stand. Be prepared for some surprises. I can be startlingly spontaneous.”
“Startlingly spontaneous,” she repeated pulling back and staring up at him.
“Yep. Now I really do need to open up my dreaded laptop.”
“Kiss me first?”
“Absolutely.”
Unexpectedly dipping her backwards he kissed her dramatically, then stood her up.
“How was that?”
“Startlingly spontaneous,” she giggled.
“Good,” he smiled. “Enjoy the view.”
Their brief conversation had left him on a high, and he was elated that she was staying overnight. The fog would make for a cozy, romantic evening, and feeling buoyed he picked up his laptop, settling at the kitchen table. As he opened his inbox he found the emails waiting for him. It was going to be a rough three days.
Choreographing the fights wouldn’t be too bad, and there were some falls; one down a flight of stairs, and one off a mezzanine, but he was more concerned with what followed once the three days were over. He had two big stunts. Leaping from the top of one shipping container to another, and being hit by a car.
“You look worried.”
Looking up he saw Belinda standing in the doorway.
“This is going to take me a while,” he said. “Two hours at least.”
“No problem,” she replied. “All I need is a piece of paper and a pen. I’ll sit out on your patio, watch the fog roll in, make my calls and take notes, This is good. I need to do this.”
“We can both get our work done,” he smiled moving to open a kitchen drawer. “Here’s a yellow pad and a pen.”
“Thanks, handsome,” she said softly, standing on her toes and kissing his cheek. “I promise not to distract you.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he said firmly.
“Yikes, I won’t, I swear.”
“I’ll come out when I need a break. There are a zillion last minute things I have to coordinate, and I have two big gags at the end of a heavy three days.”
“Gags? Do you mean jokes?”
“Gags are stunts.”
“They are?”
“Yep, that’s what we call them.”
“You have two big ones? Can I ask what they are?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“Um, good question, but yes.”
“I’m going to be hit by a car, and I’ll be jumping about thirty feet from the roof of one shipping container to another.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me? That’s impossible.”
“Which, the car or the leap?”
“Both. Good grief. How can you jump thirty feet?”
“How can I explain this? I’ll have help from a sort of jetpack.”
“A jetpack? Did you say a jetpack?” she exclaimed.
“It’s not really a jetpack, it’s called a ratchet, but I don’t have time right now to explain all the technical terms. Someone pushes a button, I jump, and it propels me.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she groaned.
“Hey, it’s no big deal, I do these things all the time.”
“I’m not sure which is worse, imagining you being hit by a two-thousand pound car, or being shot through the air by a miniature canon, and you said you’re doing these things one after the other?”
“I’m going to try to have some days in between, but it depends on other things falling into place.”
“It all sounds very complicated,” she frowned, “and absolutely terrifying. I think I’m going to go and make my calls.”
“Good idea. Good luck.”
“I think you’re the one that needs the luck,” she frowned shaking her head.
He watched her amble back out to the patio, and as he turned his attention back to his work, her words hung over him. I think you’re the one that needs luck.
She was right, and he’d had it throughout his career. Things could go wrong, but rarely did they go wrong for him. He had friends who had cracked ribs because a car didn’t get to its mark quite right, or a broken nose from a fight that didn’t go as it should. Blake was known as the stuntman with the rabbit’s foot, but nothing lasted forever and he knew the odds were against him. Suddenly, the prospect of landing a regular role in a television series carried some appeal.
“I can’t get ahead of myself,” he muttered. “Belinda’s right. Let’s see if I get the damn part before I start counting my chickens.”
Out on the patio Belinda was staring at the fog marching down the hill towards her. She had just left a message for Stephen Davis, but she knew he’d be busy doing his rounds. When she thought about leaving the bustling ward, and her fellow nurses with whom she’d become so close, she felt a tug at her heart, but it was fleeting.
I used to look forward to going into work and I don’t anymore. Some days I dread it. It will be hard leaving everyone, but it’s time.
Finding the phone numbers for the high-profile agencies she started making calls, and discovered the demand for qualified, experienced nurses was high. After she’d described her qualifications, each of them wanted to meet with her.
“I can certainly work through them if I need to,” she mumbled as she jotted down some notes.
Putting down her pad and pen she gazed back at the approaching fog. Like a giant, grey monster, it was stealing slowly towards them.
I can’t wait for it to cloak this place. It’s going to be idyllic up here tonight. I wonder what the surprise is that Blake has in store. I can’t wait for that either.
The sound of her phone interrupted her thoughts, and staring down she saw it was Stephen Davis.
“Dr. Davis
, thanks for getting back to me,” she said warmly as she answered the call.
“Have you made up your mind?”
“I have, that is, I have made up my mind that I want to know more about the position.”
“It’s a big step. I’m proud of you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“No, but you’ve haven’t closed the door. You’re open to what they have to say.”
“Yes, Dr. Davis, I am, and I’m looking forward to it.”
“Is it all right if I give his secretary your phone number? I think it’s probably best if they deal with you directly.”
“Yes, absolutely. I’ll be tied up in a little while, but I’m available now, and I’ll be at the hospital tomorrow.”
“I’ll let them know. Keep me posted.”
“I will, of course, and thank you. Thank you very much.”
As she ended the call she smiled, then giggled.
Tied up. I’ll be tied up. I hope so. I hope that’s the surprise. I’d love to be tied up, but as she rose from the chair to stretch her legs, like the heavy fog slinking towards the house, her earlier conversation with Blake loomed in her mind.
You’re going to be shot over steel shipping containers? A car is going to crash into you? What the hell? I thought I could deal with this but the thought of it just horrifies me. I like you sooo much. You curl my toes, you’re so sweet, and so tough, and so... everything. How can I control all these fears?
Looking back through the windows into the kitchen, she saw him drop his phone on the table, and as if sensing her gaze he lifted his head and stared back at her. Their eyes touched, and she watched him as he stood up, moved into the living room, and came through the French doors towards her. He smiled but didn’t speak, and walking slowly across the patio he grabbed her upper arms just as he had in the trailer. Lowering his lips he feathered them against hers in the tease of a kiss.
Closing her eyes Belinda waited, barely breathing, aching for the press of his mouth, and a small, almost indiscernible cry carried forth from her throat. The infinite seconds trickled by, then suddenly he was lifting her off her feet. She was in the air, over his shoulder, and being carried into the house.
She didn’t kick, or scream, or giggle; she didn’t wonder what was coming or where he was taking her. The caveman had swept up his woman and was taking her to his cave, and though her butterflies were dancing, and her pulse was racing, she was utterly limp as she surrendered to the moment.
Chapter Nineteen
He had stood her on her feet in his bedroom, slid the blindfold across her eyes, then slowly peeled of her clothes. Standing naked, feeling weak, her skin alive with goosebumps and her breathing ragged, she listened keenly, trying to determine the meaning behind each sound she heard.
“Open wide,” he said touching something to her mouth.
His voice was deep and firm, and feeling a fresh quiver she parted her lips. A smooth, metallic ball slipped between them, and for a moment she felt a tinge of panic, but his tender kiss on her neck immediately calmed her.
His fingertips tickled down her arms, across her shoulder blades and down her back, coming to rest on her bottom. Both palms smoothed over her cheeks before sliding down her thighs. She wanted to talk, to say his name, and though the gag prevented all speech she managed a muffled moan. She sensed him rise, felt his shirt tickle her nipples, then his hand gripped her elbow.
“Walk.”
With the security of his firm grasp guiding her, she moved forward until he pulled her to a stop. Taking hold of her hands he raised them up, cuffed her wrists, then lifted them higher, placing her fingers around the post of his bed. Seconds later she heard the sound of a metal clasp, and she realized she was shackled and unable to lower her arms. Something touched her back. It was cool, and small, and slowly traced her spine downwards until it was moving over her seat, then it began to slowly tap.
Blake was holding a long, thin crop with a wide leather tongue. Never having seen one quite like it he’d bought it immediately. He’d been on location in New Mexico, working in a small, country town, and the horse supply store had spiked his curiosity. The crop hadn’t been his only purchase. He’d also bought a thick, sheepskin mitt, a lead line made of the softest rope he’d ever glided through his palm, and a cowboy hat. The young salesgirl had flirted with him shamelessly, and he’d wanted to lean over the counter and christen the crop on her backside for being so obvious.
Holding the crop in his hand, knowing he was about to christen it, he felt a crackle of excitement. New implements charged him up, and sharing one with Belinda made the moment even more delightful.
As he landed the first light but stinging swat, his cock surged to life, and he stared for a moment at the small, almost square stain. It was bright pink, and repeating the sharp slap of the tongue on the opposite cheek, he smiled with satisfaction as the color bloomed a second time.
Moving around her, stepping from side to side, he danced the leather swatch across her cheeks, never landing it on the space spot twice, and covering her bottom with a range of satisfying blotches. She had squirmed and wriggled during the moderate cropping, and gladdened by his handiwork he sidled up to her, tenderly fondling her hot seat before slipping his fingers into her sex.
“Wet, wet, wet,” he purred in her ear. “Nothing to say? No smart retort? Oh, that’s right, you have a beautiful silver ball in your mouth. Pay attention, Belinda. I have attached your wrists to a swivel snap, and I’m going to turn you around. I think your tits might be feeling neglected.”
She managed a moan, and placing the crop on the bed he grasped her waist and slowly rotated her body so her back was against the post.
“You didn’t think that would work, did you? I’m a stuntman, remember? I know all about ropes and knots. I know about all kinds of things.”
His comment elicited another muffled muttering, and taking a moment to step back and study her, he smiled at the glorious sight. Her face was flushed, her chest was rising and falling, and her skin was still displaying a delightful array of goosebumps.
“You are ravishing,” he muttered, his voice low and deep and husky.
Stepping close, he lowered his lips to her sharp nipples, sucking hungrily, then picking up the crop he rested it against her right breast.
“Have you ever felt the sting of a crop on your lovely tits?”
She shook her head, urgently moving it back and forth.
“I didn’t think so,” he murmured. “Don’t worry, since this is your first time I’ll be somewhat lenient. If it becomes too much stamp your foot twice. If you understand, nod your head.”
Her head bobbed up and down, and watching her, he unexpectedly had an image of her kneeling before him and sucking his cock.
Yes, you’ll be bobbing your head again very soon. Very soon indeed.
Focusing back on the task at hand, he started to tap the leather swatch against her nipples. It wasn’t the severity of his soft smacks that created the sting, but the repetition, and when he sensed her reaching her limit he moved the crop from breast to breast, frolicking it across the full, fleshy mounds.
Her breathing was becoming heavier, her muffled moans were more frequent, and dropping the crop back on the bed he reached behind her and unfastened the gag, slowly sliding it from her mouth.
“Don’t speak,” he whispered placing his thumb against her lips, “suck.”
She took a moment to catch her breath before drawing his thumb into her mouth, but when she did, he moved his other hand between her legs to tease and rub. She groaned as her ache grew, and when he began kissing her neck she let out a heavy moan.
“You’re going to suck my cock just like you’re sucking my thumb,” he whispered. “I’m going to release you, and you’re going to be a very good girl and kneel down exactly where you are.”
He dropped his hand away from her pussy, and as he carefully pulled his thumb from her mouth she chased it with her tongue.
“That’s what I like to see,” he breathed as he untied her. “I’m going to keep your wrists locked together. I haven’t finished warming your backside.”
She whimpered at the news, but with his hands on her shoulders offering gentle pressure she lowered herself to her knees, then searched in the darkness of her blindfold to find him.
“Here you go,” he mumbled presenting his cock to her mouth. “Slowly, start slowly, lick and lap, Belinda. Make me love your mouth and tongue.”
Holding him with her shackled wrists wasn’t easy, but there was just enough length to the small chain to allow her fingers to wrap around his shaft. Eagerly licking the head, she closed her lips and began to move them up and down, slurping as she did.
“You’re doing that very well,” he purred gazing down at the delicious sight. “Now I’m going to take hold of you and fuck your mouth.”
He felt, more than heard a gasp, and not wanting to dislodge her blindfold he spread his fingers on either side of her head, held her tightly, and began to slowly pump.
“Close your lips around me. Yes, like that, just like that.”
It was divine pleasure, and her acceptance wasn’t just willing, it was eager. She dropped her fingers to his marbles to tickle and hold, and as much as he wanted to continue until his cream was spilling down her throat, he didn’t know if she ready.
“I’m going to stop now. Open wide.”
Carefully withdrawing, he reached down and helped her to her feet, then wrapped her in a warm, loving bear hug.
“That was beautiful,” he purred. “How do you feel?”
“Weak, happy, on a strange kind of high.”
“I’m going to put you over my knee now, give you some rules, and make sure you know I’m strict as well as loving, then you’ll have your reward.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed he moved her over his lap, and staring down at the full round cheeks of her peppered bottom, he fondled for a few minutes before dispatching his hand, landing several hard smacks.
“I suspect you haven’t had a Dominant before, is that right?”
The Stuntman Page 10