“Not I guess. This is not a multiple choice question. It’s a simple yes or no. Can you understand that?”
“Yeah, I can. But I don’t want to be smacked that way.”
“Okay, how about this—next time, I’ll give you a warning. If you disregard my instructions, then I can smack you like that if you do it again.” He bit his bottom lip and bared his top teeth at her while he growled. Fuck if he didn’t want to bite her more than anything. Tear into her and take complete control.
She nodded. “I guess I can deal with that.”
“No more guessing.” He pinched her ass playfully to test her in this situation. Her breath hitched, and she jumped a little, but she didn’t get upset about it. This was good, so he kept explaining, “That’s your first warning. And in my kitchen, if I’m the one cooking, you may ask for more food, but you don’t simply take it out of the pan.”
“Okay.”
She sniffed and gripped his shirt.
God, he’d upset her that bad? How had he misjudged?
“Shit—too much—I’m sorry.” He leaned over, scooped her up and managed to grab two strips of bacon along the way.
“What’re you . . . Put me down,” she squealed and tried to wiggle out of his arms.
“Do I need to warn you on this, too? When you need affection, I’m gonna give it to you. Which means if I hurt your feelings, you’ll automatically receive a hug if I’m not in the middle of correction.”
“What kind of . . . I thought you were an agent for singers—nobody said anything to me about you correcting people. Did Pono know you were . . .”
“Yes, he knew.”
“Are you . . . ?”
“Am I what?” He held his breath and then sat down, taking her with him, securing her in his lap.
She went silent.
“If you’re not going to answer me, which I would normally address, then I want you to eat what you wanted so badly,” he said, placing a strip of bacon at her lips.
Her mouth sealed shut, and she turned away.
“Oh, gonna be difficult, huh?” His jaw clenched. He wanted to spank her so badly, but it wasn’t the time. She was raw emotionally and needed time before he showed her what he really was. No sense in scaring her off.
She balled up into his chest, hiding her face away in his shirt.
“You’re gonna eat it, because I know you want it. Your pride isn’t going to get in the way of what you want—I won’t allow that under my roof.”
“Then I should probably find another place to stay for the next few days,” she said, muffled by his clothing.
Oh, fuck. Spanking. Lots of them. She needed it.
His hand flexed, and he gripped her tight into him. “No, you fucking won’t. You’re safe here, and I know you want to stay.”
She went silent, and the tears started up. Her back shook, and she cried for several moments.
“Do you think you disappointed me?” he asked softly. He stroked her hair like he did last night when he’d held her.
She shook harder and nodded.
“You didn’t, sweetie. I just . . . Fuck, I thought you could handle it, and I figured this was a basic rule most people had. Did I scare you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you crying so hard?” He cupped her cheeks, tilted her head back and kissed her forehead.
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Tell me.” He kissed the corner of her right eye. It was moist.
She reached up and wiped the salt water off his lips like she had after her shower when her hair had moistened his mouth. His eyes drifted closed, and he licked his lips after her finger was gone. Fuck. Do that again . . .
“I want you to like me,” she said, her voice tiny and full of dread.
“I do—so much. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“People don’t hit when they like somebody,” she said.
“You’re telling me, in grade school, when little Timmy Jones pulled your pigtails, you didn’t punch him in the arm? You didn’t play around like that ever?” He yanked her hair to prove his point.
She gave him an exasperated look—her head tilted to the side a little. “I . . .”
“Did you?”
She blinked, and her expression went from annoyance, to shock, a tinge of rage and then finally morphed into mortification.
“I thought so. And didn’t you ever get in the mood with a guy you really liked, to bite him or pinch him or even pull his hair?”
“God, this is . . .”
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“Yeah, of course I fucking did, but . . .”
“But what?”
“I don’t do that with my friends,” she said, pulling away.
“Why not?”
“Jesus, I didn’t even do that with Pono.” Her hands flung up in the air. She scooted back to the edge of his lap.
His hands flew out and gripped her waist.
“Be my friend, right now.”
“What?” She blinked and her mouth formed an O.
“Slap me for fun.”
“No!”
“Do it. See how much better you feel.” He grinned.
“No, I can’t . . .” She turned her head away, but not before he saw the heated look in her eyes.
“You know you want to,” he said, pinching her right hip.
She jerked away and smiled. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” He did it to the other side.
Same reaction, only a little smaller.
“You’re gonna fall off my lap if you keep that up,” he warned.
He pinched the opposite hip.
“I said stop it!”
“Why?” He smirked.
“Because I don’t like it,” she said, but it came out voiced like a question.
“You mean, you’re not supposed to like it.” He baited her.
“Yeah—I mean, no—I mean, fuck! You’re confusing me.”
“Ask me—ask me so you’re not confused.”
Her cheeks pinked. “I wouldn’t even know what to ask you.”
“Set your palm over my heart right now,” he said.
She did it without a second’s worth of hesitation.
Fuck, she was killing him. Her left hand was on his chest, and her ring finger was missing her wedding band. Oh good God . . . How was he supposed to keep from stripping her and fucking her now? “Feel that?”
“It’s racing.”
“Damn right it is. That’s what playing like this feels like it when it’s done right. Gets the blood pumping so fucking good, it’s a rush. Nobody’s getting hurt—not really. We’re having fun, and it gets better the more you do it—makes you feel almost high.” He took her hand off his heart, and he nipped at her index finger, then bit the tip, placing just enough pressure to make her question if he’d back off or bite harder. And of course, he also hoped it would remind her she had removed her wedding ring all on her own, and that had to mean something.
Her eyes went wide, then scrunched directly after. “I don’t know if I want to hear this.”
She squirmed on his lap.
He sucked on her fingertip, then let it fall out of his mouth with a loud sucking sound.
“Jean, you’ve been telling people the truth your whole life when they ask you questions. You avoided the important one Pono asked you before you married. Wanna try it again? I’ll ask you for him—in his place. Was he the right man for you?”
She gulped, and a hiss of air escaped her. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Why?”
“No fire.”
He smiled so wide, his jaw was almost aching. “And have you ever met a man that was as honest as you are?”
“Well, Pono tried to be, but he—”
“No, that doesn’t answer the question. You’re diverting. Answer it truthfully. I’m asking you a direct question—have you ever met a man as honest as you are? When you ask a man a question, does he satisfy you by tel
ling you the absolute truth?”
“No one except you,” she said, averting her gaze.
He tipped his chin back, and his eyes slid up in his head. Was she getting this?
“And what does that mean to you?” he asked, his voice low, heavy and filled with grit.
“What should it mean?”
“Uh, uh. Answer.” His head fell back down into place, and she was looking back at him once more. He gazed into her light blue eyes—now slightly darker.
“I don’t know—but it scares me.” She wiggled on his knees a little.
“Now, ask me what you want to know about me.”
She bit her top lip, and her gaze moved down his body. “What are you?”
“Be more specific.” He gripped her chin when she tried to look away.
“I can’t. I don’t know how to ask it.”
“You do, and you can. You’re not getting off my lap ‘til you ask it.”
“Are you a Dom or something?” she asked in a rush.
“Do you already know the answer?” He leaned forward—his face an inch away from hers.
“Yes.”
“Then why are you afraid to ask?” Her breath spread out over his lips, and God, his mouth was watering.
“Because then I can pretend not to know, and it hurts a little less.”
“Why does it hurt at all?”
She shifted away. “Because I want to know more.”
He released her.
She got up, murmured she was tired and wanted some time alone.
He watched her retreat to her room, and he went to the kitchen, had breakfast, cleaned up the mess after and waited for her to decide she was ready to hear more.
He had so much to tell her.
Chapter 4
Jeanie closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, fumbling with her phone, debating placing a phone call to the only person she could think of that might be able to help.
She wasn’t even sure what she needed help with at this point, but she needed someone and something to make sense, dammit.
Jeanie set the phone down on the bed and refused to look at it.
Instead, she held her forehead in her hands and held back the tears of emotional exhaustion.
Bzzzz . . . Bzzzz . . . Bzzzz . . .
Her phone bounced around on the bed.
When she looked at the caller ID, she sighed and her shoulders dropped.
“Thank God!” she answered the call.
“Jeanie? You okay?”
“I . . . Jesus, I don’t know if I’m all right or not.” She reached back and pushed her hair up off her neck. It was sticking to her. How had he set her body on fire in such a short amount of time? She got up and turned the ceiling fan on.
“Well, maybe you can just listen for a few minutes. I called Rodney and got permission to speak to you about this . . . You sound like you need some support, so I . . .”
Jeanie shook her head. “Permission? I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, I know you know . . .” Tia paused and something rustled on her end. “I used to be Mark’s submissive, and now I’m Rodney’s. I had to get permission.”
She said this like it was all so normal.
“Permission to speak to someone you already know? I’m your friend. I don’t get it.” Jeanie sighed. Her head was aching, and she was thirsty.
She got up, found her water bottle on the nightstand and gulped down a few mouthfuls.
“I can explain all this as we go along—the lifestyle, and how it all works—but for now, why don’t we concentrate on what’s bugging you?” Tia’s voice was soothing, and already Jeanie’s knotted-up stomach was relaxing.
“Okay, so you were his submissive—whatever that means,” Jeanie said, her free hand flopping onto the bed. “I have no idea what I’m doing or what he wants from me.”
“He wants you to be yourself,” came the quick reply.
Jeanie glanced over at the door, making sure it was locked. Her shoulders hunched like she needed to keep this secret.
“Hey, I’m just glad he finally did something about how he feels about you. It’s about damn time.” Tia took a breath. “I’m sure I’ll get in trouble for saying all this, but I figured you already knew—I mean, it’s not like he’s very subtle about it when he’s near you. The way that man hovers around you, it’s like you’ve got a gravity field made specifically for him.”
“You knew he had feelings for me when you were . . .” Jeanie swallowed, though her throat was still dry “. . . with him?”
Tia chuckled. “Yeah, I knew. It’s why we broke up. I was fine with sharing, but he didn’t want that.”
“Sharing with whom?” Jeanie’s whole face scrunched up. “Share? I don’t get it—God, I feel like you’re speaking a different language.” She ran her hand across her forehead and up into her hair.
“Well, of course you’re confused. You’re so stuck on him, you can’t see anything but him—I’d be confused, too. I’m happy for you both, though. Like I said—‘bout damn time.” Tia laughed.
“What? I am not stuck on him! I just lost my goddamn husband,” Jeanie said as quietly as she could. She sounded mad, but really, she was terrified. Was she that transparent his ex could already tell she was completely wrapped up in Mark?
“Okay, stop with the ‘you’ve just insulted me’ routine. It’s not you, Jeanie. I know who you really are, and so does he. We’re not fooled. We talked about Pono and you all the time and how much happier you’d be if Pono was a Dom. You were just begging to be dominated every time Mark was around.”
“Why the fuck would you think that?” Jeanie flung herself back on the bed and draped an arm over her eyes. This was a nightmare.
“I’m sure you didn’t even realize you did these things, but I thought it was adorable. Anytime we hung out with you guys, you’d stay as far away as possible from Mark and no one else. Then you’d start to gravitate toward him, but you’d look conflicted about being near him. Eventually you’d be hanging on his every word. You were constantly looking at him whether you were nearby or staying away, and if he was looking right back—which he almost always was, since he’s obsessed with you—your eyes would immediately fling to the ground like you were busted and knew it. And if he gave you any command at all, you’d jump and immediately comply. You always looked relieved once that happened, like you were dying for the chance to do something—anything to serve him. Christ, he’d have to hide his hard-on after that. I should’ve been jealous and pissed since he never reacted that way to me, but I couldn’t. I just wanted him to be happy—and around you, he always is. He can barely breathe after he’s been near you for any length of time at all. He’d fuck hard after . . . I loved that part.”
Jeanie groaned. “Oh Jesus, please . . . I don’t want to hear this.”
The image of him doing anything even remotely sexual was simply too much for her to handle right now.
“Well, tough shit. I can hear it in your voice—you’re dying to know what you do to him.” Tia paused and gulped down some drink. “Do you know what he did three months ago after he saw you?”
“Do I want to know? I mean, really? I know you think I do, but . . . Ugh, I’m not sure I do.” Jeanie moaned and wiped her eyes. Her insides were in so many hideous twists and bends, she had no idea how she’d ever relax again.
“Yeah, you really, really do.” Tia took a breath. “He was almost in tears, so fucked up over you, and I knew he felt guilty as hell for wanting his good buddy’s wife so desperately. He was about to burn the few pictures he had of you. I shoved them in his drawer, and I told him he should approach you and see if you’d join us.”
“A threesome? That’s what you meant by sharing?” Jeanie’s throat constricted and went drier still.
“Yeah. I thought he’d jump all over it, but instead, his eyes were filled with absolute turmoil. He gagged me, tied me up, and kept me there like that for several minutes as he ranted to himself about how you’d never want
that—how he’d never do that to you.”
“To me? I . . . Sorry, Tia, but you’ve lost me . . .” Her heart clenched. He really sounded like he was torn up over her.
“He was damn near close to screaming at me for suggesting such a thing. I could tell he wanted you more than anything and was ready to claw his way out of here to get to you. But he’d never do that to his friend.”
“I still don’t get it,” Jeanie said in an exhausted exhale. “Why does this have to be so complicated?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s really very simple. He craves you more than you know. And what I meant by he’d never do that to you . . . Well, let me just say, he’s extremely intense, but he always holds back. I don’t think he’d be able to do that with you since he wants you so much. He’s probably more scared than you are.”
“Fuck—what am I supposed to do about this? I . . . I don’t think I’d ever be able to be what he needs.”
Tia laughed so hard it sounded like she was choking. “You already are, hon. Just enjoy it. I am actually a little jealous, but only because I can imagine the crazy, sexual things he’s going to do to you.”
“Jesus Christ—I haven’t said yes to anything, and you make it sound like it’s already decided.” Jeanie rubbed her eyes.
“Your body’s decided even if you haven’t. Just see if you can resist him. It’s a losing battle—the hormones always win with that man. There’s no point in trying to resist him. Give in—you’ll be glad you did.”
“Celestia . . .” Jeanie sighed. “How can you talk this way about your ex? I mean, you guys were a couple for quite a while.”
“I never loved him. He certainly never loved me. He was sick of rotating subs all the time, and I felt the same about my situation with never finding the right Dom. It was convenient, we liked the same things, but I’m a switch, and he didn’t really want that. He wanted a sub solely devoted to him. I’ll tell you this, though—you never have to worry about that man straying. He’s so fixated on you, there’s no way he’d ever even look at another woman again if you said you wanted him, too. I’m not kidding—when you were around—his eyes were only on you, unless he was dealing with me, and then only briefly. Or if Pono was talking to him. Other than that, he revolved around you. I might as well not have been there . . . It was almost frightening the way he spoke of you with such reverence afterward. And if I said anything even remotely negative? Holy shit, I’d get the spanking of a lifetime.”
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