Rushing In

by Alice Winters

  Too late now.

  “You want the other slave to punish you, don’t you?” she asks Bradley.

  “Give me all you got, Clyde,” Bradley says as he bites his lip to keep from grinning.

  I awkwardly press the ice against the nape of his neck and watch a bead of water run down to his collarbone as he flinches away. I kind of feel like I’m just stabbing him with it, but we’ve barely kissed, and now I’m going to do what? Coat him in ice? I won’t have to wait long because my sweaty hand is promptly melting the ice.

  “Oh, come on now,” Mistress says as she grabs my hand. “Punish him.”

  She pulls my hand down, forcing the ice to run down his chest to his nipple.

  “Holy shit,” Bradley says as she draws my hand toward one nipple, running around it and then the other.

  “That’s better,” she says. “We like it when they squirm.”

  I watch the beads of water run down his chest as the ice melts away until it’s only my fingers on his chest, sliding across the wet skin covered in ink. And I feel wrongly turned on because one should not get hard in a restaurant.

  “I’m not sure if that’s enough,” she says as she grabs the second bottle and puts it in my hand. She forces it upside down and a thin stream of the liquid hits his stomach. It must be cold because he instinctively sucks his stomach in as I watch the stream disappear into the front of his pants.

  “I think he’s properly punished. You may sit back down,” she says, so I quickly walk over to my seat and sink down, glad to hide the start of my arousal with the table.

  She pulls Bradley’s blindfold off, then mixes our drinks before sliding them over to us. “Enjoy your drinks, boys.”

  Then she saunters off as I’m left meeting Bradley’s eyes.

  And boy, you’d think that wouldn’t be hard to do on a second date, but I am the king of making things awkward.

  “Let’s go out to eat, Bradley,” he says, while mimicking my voice. “I found this nice restaurant to go to. Don’t mind the dominatrix and the blindfold!”

  I start laughing unbelievably hard as I stare at him. “If it makes you feel any better, I really liked the part where she made you take your shirt off.”

  He starts laughing as well. “Do I leave it off? If I put it back on, is she going to spank me with that crop? I have no idea what will happen to me, and I kind of dig it.”

  “Do you regret meeting me? Do you wish you were home hiding under your blanket? Because I feel like… I didn’t know what we were getting into.”

  “Oh, I’m enjoying it. Did you have fun torturing me?”

  I nod. “Very much.”

  “I kind of feel like I wet my pants, though.”

  “That one’s not my fault.”

  “I’m not sure if any part of this is ‘not your fault,’” he reminds me.

  “True. But that one especially.”

  “Uh-huh. I can’t wait to see what she does to you.”

  “Oh god,” I say as realization sets in. “We should leave before that happens.”

  “Oh no,” he says with a grin as he leans forward, eyes hooked onto mine. “We’re here for the long run. I’m watching her torture you. And I’m jumping in so damn hard when she invites me.”

  Why does that turn me on so much?

  “I think you need to put your shirt back on. Cover those nips. They’re distracting me.”

  “I think you need to take your shirt off,” he says as he sadly grabs his shirt. I’m aware I’m the one who told him to do it, but I also felt like I should stop staring at his chest.

  “Nope. Mine actually can’t be removed. And why didn’t you tell me you had tattoos?” I ask.

  He looks up from where he’s starting to button the first button. “What, should I have been like, ‘Hey, wanna see my tats?’” he asks in a super deep, creepy voice as he pretends to rip his shirt open.

  “I don’t even know why you think that sounds weird. I’d have been so turned on.”

  He starts laughing as he resumes buttoning his shirt. “How did you even find this place?”

  “Internet. I read nothing about it. I saw it had four-point-nine stars and I just knew I had to bring you here.”

  “You like to keep me on my toes, that’s for sure.”

  “The person who knocked it down a point complained about their dish being too spicy.”

  “Their… food being spicy? They didn’t have anything to say about their nipples being iced? Or their drinks being served with a blindfold?”

  “No… no one complained about that. But I only read one review and just went for it. We’ve already established that I’m not much of a reader.”

  “Yeah… but I’d think with something like this you’d at least read a little. I mean at the very least out of curiosity.”

  “I bought a book on BDSM, and I didn’t even read it. Do you really think I’d read reviews on a restaurant? Or even what it’s really about? I just saw they had chicken linguine and knew I was interested.”

  Bradley starts laughing as he shakes his head. “You… you amaze me. Your life is never boring, is it?”

  “Not since you came around, no. So I’ll just blame everything on you.”

  “Sure. I’ll take it. I just can’t wait for the main course. What is she going to do to you?”

  “See… I wasn’t… umm… prepared for that. It was fun when things were happening to you.” I pull up my arm and pretend to look at my imaginary watch. “Oh, look at the time. I think we need to go.”

  That’s when the waitress comes up and sets two salads in front of us.

  “Are my boys hungry?” she asks.

  “I don’t know the right answer,” I admit.

  Bradley snickers.

  “But you know the wrong one,” she says as she sets her crop against the bottom of my chin. “It’s Mistress to you.”

  “Sorry, Mistress,” I say.

  “I’ll forgive you if you can eat all of those juicy red tomatoes in fifteen seconds.”

  I look down at the halved grape tomatoes.

  “Starting now. Fifteen… fourteen…”

  I grab my fork since picking tomatoes out of my bowl with my fingers doesn’t sound very sexy with the man of my dreams watching me. I stab two of them and stick them in my mouth.

  “Look how full your mouth is,” she says. “Oh, but it’s not full enough. You’re out of time, kitten. Now how shall I punish you?”

  “That wasn’t even two seconds!”

  “I think you need to be punished.”

  “Maybe you could punish me… by letting me leave?” I suggest. “Mistress!” I quickly add.

  “On your feet,” she says, and I stand up before looking at Bradley in terror. She grabs Bradley’s hand and pulls him over to me before putting the crop in his hand. “Punish him.”

  “Oh god,” Bradley says as he starts snickering. “Like… smack him?”

  “Right on the ass,” she says.

  “This is our second date! Clyde, what have you gotten me into!” he exclaims.

  I start laughing so hard that I have to cover my face. “Don’t make me laugh! She’ll make me eat more tomatoes, and I hate tomatoes. I’d rather have you spank me.” I nearly die laughing on the word “spank” because it’s not something I ever imagined saying to anyone, but I’m loving it too much. I love it so much I turn to him, look him right in the eyes, and say, “Spank me, Officer!”

  He gives me the lightest tap on the ass I’ve ever felt. “You’ve been a bad, bad boy,” he says while trying to keep a straight face.

  “How bad, Officer?” I ask. I can’t stop laughing, which is awful, because I know this is supposed to be serious. It’s supposed to be all hot and kinky, and instead I’m giggling like a preteen girl as Bradley stands behind me with a crop in hand.

  “Like… didn’t eat your tomatoes bad,” he says before another light smack.

  “But I don’t like uncooked tomatoes!”

  “Oh… well, that’
s understandable. Should I still spank him for not liking tomatoes?” he asks the waitress.

  “I’d actually spank him a little harder because tomatoes are delicious,” the waitress says.

  “You heard her,” he says as he barely taps my ass any harder.

  “Have a seat, boys. And if you don’t straighten up, I’ll take away your chairs and make you kneel before me,” she says as she takes the crop back.

  She walks away, and I’m left looking Bradley in the eyes again.

  “I didn’t know you didn’t like tomatoes,” he says, as if that’s the only thing of concern about what just happened.

  “Just raw ones,” I say as I try to keep a straight face. “Are you going to spank me every time I refuse to eat one?”

  He covers his mouth as he holds back a laugh. “I don’t think this is supposed to be so funny. No one else is giggling like maniacs.”

  “You’re right. We need to be the definition of seriousness.”

  I grab the penis salt shaker and snicker.

  “Oh my god. You can’t even touch the salt without laughing.”

  I grab the pepper and hold both of them to my chest so it looks like I have two penis-shaped breasts. “Do you like my nipples?” I ask.

  “They’re breathtaking.”

  I waggle my eyebrows. “Do you need any pepper?”

  “I don’t, but I’m so enthralled by this that I’m going to say yes,” he says as he holds his salad out to me.

  I shake my chest but none comes out, so I grudgingly sprinkle some on like a normal person.

  Chapter Ten

  “That was surprisingly better than what I thought was going to happen tonight,” Bradley says as he follows me out to the car.

  “The restaurant?”

  “No, I thought you were a serial killer, remember?” he asks.

  “I’m glad my restaurant choice was surprisingly better than death,” I say with a grin. He grabs my arm and pulls me to the far side of the car and, as quick as that, pins me to it. I’d been borderline horny all evening, especially after running ice across his chest, so the moment I feel his body pressed against mine, my brain short-circuits, and all I can think about is needing to feel more of him. Preferably without clothes on. Which is bad because I don’t go for sex after the second date. What I do like is being in a relationship with someone and emotionally connected to them before even thinking about sex.

  But with him, it’s so different. I feel like I’ve known him for years, even though we’ve been merely acquaintances before this past week or so. Maybe it’s different because I have known him for about a year, but I want him so fucking badly that I nearly whine when he doesn’t immediately kiss me. Instead, he pins me there, looking down into my eyes, since he’s a couple of inches taller than me. He leans in and I tip my chin up to kiss him, but instead of kissing me, he presses his mouth against my ear.

  “Do you want to go to a hotel?” he asks, which sounds completely reasonable when home is an hour away. There is absolutely no way I could wait an hour.

  I nod vigorously. “Yes! Very much!”

  His mouth hovers near mine, and I ache to feel his lips on me, but he pulls away without kissing me and sends me toward the driver’s side.

  I’m hovering on a cloud as I float over to the door and get inside. Then I pull out of the parking lot as Bradley directs me to a hotel he’d seen on the way in. I want to reach over and touch him, but I know that once I start, it’ll be hard to compose myself and walk into the hotel without being noticeably turned on. Thankfully, the hotel isn’t far, and I manage to arrive without embarrassing myself. My entire body is filled with excitement and anticipation as I pull into the parking lot. The moment I stop, I get out, and Bradley quickly guides me toward the hotel by setting a hand on the small of my back.

  The touch feels strangely intimate and caring, making me lean into it. When his pinky dips under my shirt and slides across my bare skin, I can’t help but shiver. We pass through the doors and he goes up to the desk.

  “I can get it,” I say.

  He waves me off. “You paid for supper.”

  Now that he’s busy procuring the room, I shift uneasily behind him. It’s not that I regret it; it’s just the normal anxiety before having sex with someone for the first time. But this time, it’s drawn out by driving and getting a room and walking up to said room, and what if I shouldn’t have sex with him right away? I really, really like Bradley. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. And I don’t want this to end with just sex. I want commitment and I want him to want me the way I want him. Does he? Will this be just fun and sex to him? Will it be something more? Will he pull out his BDSM powers, and I’ll have no fucking idea what to do because I only looked at the pictures?

  Bradley nods at me as he heads toward the elevator, and I quickly rush after him. As soon as the doors shut, I expect him to pin me against the wall and turn me to mush like he did at the car.

  Instead, he says, “You kind of look like you’re freaking out, and I’ve never seen you freak out before. Wait… besides with the motorcycle. But this isn’t the same type of freaking out… or is it?”

  “No, I don’t think your penis is going to kill me,” I joke. “Or is it that big?”

  He smiles and shakes his head. “We don’t have to do this at all. I would never pressure you, Clyde.”

  He reaches out to me and I gladly take his hand and let him pull me into his arms. “If you wanted to just sit on the bed and watch old reruns all night long, I would happily do that.”

  “I just… don’t want to screw this up with sex,” I mumble as I sink into his arms. They feel so good wrapped around me. Once there, wrapped in his secure hold, I almost forget about all of my worries. “No… that’s not right. I don’t want this to be just sex. I don’t want to turn into fuckbuddies or something. I’m a relationship kind of person who never has sex before I’m in a relationship. Never ever. Even when I was younger. Never. I just really like you, and I don’t want to screw this up.”

  “I get that. I one hundred percent do. But this isn’t… I don’t see you as a fuckbuddy, Clyde. At all. I really like you. Do you think I would have skipped for just anyone?”

  I can’t help but smile. “Yes.”

  He grins at me. “You’re such a liar. Do you think I’d spank just anyone in a restaurant with other people watching?”

  My smile widens. “Definitely.”

  “Or take them on my death machine?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  He laughs as the door slides open. Then he pulls away from the hug but doesn’t release my hand as he leads me into the hallway. The hold feels so secure as he leads me after him that I find myself leaning into him. Together, we walk up to door 345 and stop as he slides the keycard through and pushes it open. He walks inside, pulling me after him.

  “Want to watch reruns all night?” he asks with a smile. And I know that he’s being honest about enjoying that. He doesn’t make me feel pressured in the slightest, and that’s why I know I can trust him.

  I pull my hand free of his so I can step up to him and slide my arms around his waist. “No. My moment of indecision is gone.”

  “Are you sure? If you say no, I’m not going to like… automatically forget about you or something. Literally, you’re the most memorable person I’ve ever come across.”

  I laugh as I squeeze him tighter. “No, I want to. I do.”

  “I want to too,” he says. “But we’ll take it super slow, and you’ll tell me if you want me to stop. Don’t hesitate, okay? I find it hot when you’re truthful.”

  I snort before realizing that snorting probably isn’t very attractive.

  He leans into me and I press my lips against his as one hand slides up his back and the fingers of my other dip into the back of his pants. His tongue finds mine as I press into the kiss, wishing there weren’t so many layers between us. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted someone as much as I want him now, and I think that’s what con
cerns me about us rushing into things. I don’t want us to move too fast and ruin things when he makes me laugh so much. He’s kind, sexy, fun, and perfect. Okay, maybe not perfect, but in my eyes, he is. Unless he’s asking me to get on that bike. Then he’s so far from perfect.

  He leads me over to the bed before whipping the top cover off and guiding me onto the sheets. Then he pulls back as he stands before me, looking down as he gives me a smile.

  “Wait, do you want like a shoestring or something?” I ask.

  He raises an eyebrow. “For…?”

  I shrug. “Bondage or something. I don’t care. Whatever you want. I’m game. Just… maybe ask on some of the… kinkier stuff.”

  “You… want me to tie you up?” he asks.

  “Umm… I don’t know. Do you want to tie me up?”

  “If you want me to tie you up, I’ll tie you up,” he says.

  “If you want to tie me up, I’ll let you tie me up.”

  “What?”

  “What?”

  He narrows his eyes like he’s thought of something. “Wait… do you… are you doing this BDSM stuff for me or because you’re into it?”

  “Well… I mean, I’m not against it.”

  He grabs my face in his hands. “All of this… this dinner stuff, the book stuff, was because you thought I was into it and you also… had to be into it?”

  I quickly shake my head. “Oh no, I would never change myself to be into what you’re into. I found it interesting, so I thought I’d check it out… because I thought you were into it. And you’re not… oh my god. You’re not into BDSM… I just took you to a BDSM restaurant for our second date. I didn’t even wait until the third date!”

  He starts laughing before trying to quiet himself. “Why did you think I was?”

  I stare at him. “If I tell you, you will decide I’m a stalker and run away. But if I attach you to me with that shoestring that I was going to let you tie me up with, you can’t get far. It’s hard to drag a body. I know. From experience,” I joke. Maybe… maybe right now isn’t the best time to joke, but I’m too mortified to not joke. Maybe if he thinks this is all a huge joke, he’ll laugh it off and forget everything about me including my name and where I work.