A Big Surprise for Valentine's Day

by Jackie Lau

  “What’s so funny?” Sebastian asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said. “It smells good.”

  He led her to the dining room table, where there were two empty bowls, spoons, butter, and a small pile of crusty rolls. He placed a large pot on a trivet.

  “I made lentil-sausage soup with kale,” he said, ladling them each a bowl.

  They sat in silence as they waited for the soup to cool, Sebastian constantly dipping his spoon into the soup and letting it drip off, Amber tearing her dinner roll and buttering it.

  This was weird. Why was this weird?

  Was it because just last night, they’d sent each other naughty text messages?

  Nah, she didn’t think that was it.

  She tried some soup.

  “It’s delicious,” she said.

  “Thank you.” His voice was unsteady.

  They’d already slept together and sexted, but she hadn’t been to his place before, and they were having a home-cooked meal for the first time. Perhaps he was nervous.

  “You wanted to feed me something with sausages, didn’t you?” she said. “Except the sausages in the soup are cut up, so I can’t see whether they were long and extra-thick. Were they magnum sausages?”

  God, she sounded like she was drunk on a piña colada.

  Sebastian lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth, then snorted and put down the spoon. He started laughing as she’d never heard him laugh before. He chuckled a lot, sure, but this was a full-on belly-aching laugh, and she couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her body. Though perhaps he was laughing like this mainly because of his nervousness, which was kind of cute, actually...

  Friends, she reminded herself. Friends make friends laugh.

  He squeezed her hand, then went back to eating his soup.

  She could get used to this. A nice, casual dinner at the end of a workday with Sebastian.

  Friends! she screamed inside her head. This is friendship, not romance.

  “Amber?” Sebastian said, his eyebrows drawing together. “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, yes, everything is great, thank you!” Her voice sounded a little too chipper, but he didn’t comment on it.

  After dinner, Sebastian brought out some candy cane ice cream, the kind she’d had in her basket at the grocery store two weeks ago.

  Two weeks? Weirdly, it seemed both longer and shorter at the same time.

  Everything was going great so far. They’d been having sex about twice a week—and regular sex was exactly what she needed.

  She had a generous serving of ice cream, then stood up and slid onto his lap.

  “You’re wearing too much clothing,” she declared.

  “Am I?”

  “Mm-hmm. I think it’s time I did something about it. To thank you for the great meal.”

  And that was exactly what she did.

  * * *

  It was nine o’clock, and Sebastian had stuff he should probably be doing—dishes, for example—but instead he was lying in bed with Amber, her head resting on his shoulder.

  His bedroom seemed boring compared to hers. There were no crochet peacocks on the bedside table, no cross-stitched rules above the bed.

  “What’s rule number two?” he asked suddenly. “Rule number one is no dating...what’s rule number two?”

  “Yet to be determined,” she said. “I’m keeping my options open.”

  He pulled her closer. It was a touch drafty in his bedroom, and they were snuggled up under a mound of blankets...and there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

  “You said you’re taking a break from dating because you tend to date terrible men.”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “I really do. Any type of bad boyfriend you can think of, I’ve had.”

  “Cheaters?”

  “That goes without saying. One guy claimed he was single but turned out to have a wife and two small children. I also dated a man who thought women shouldn’t be able to vote.”

  “He didn’t think women should vote?”

  “He only said that once. When he was drunk. Went on a rant about how women were too liberal and didn’t know what was good for them. I bet that was how he truly felt; he just knew better than to spout those views when he was sober. Then there were a couple of white guys who had creepy Asian fetishes. One thought I should be more in touch with my culture and mocked me for some of the non-traditional food I made. The other thought I should be submissive. When I dumped him, he blamed my lack of meek and polite personality on me being...” She shook her head. “I won’t repeat what he said. Slurs against people who are biracial.”

  Sebastian’s hand tightened on Amber’s arm, but then he realized he might be hurting her. He let go and soothed her skin with his fingers. “I can’t believe you dated those guys.”

  “I’m incredibly dumb.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “You don’t have to lie. I was young, I liked men, I wasn’t too picky. I enjoyed the attention.”

  “I’m sure they didn’t act like total jerks when you first met them.”

  “No, but I should have known better. Especially when I...” She shut her eyes for a moment. “You can’t tell Zach or anyone else in my family, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I dated a few men who were quite a bit older than me. Like, when I was nineteen, I dated a guy who was thirty-five. Older than you are now. He made me feel grown-up. I wanted people to see me as something other than the baby of the family, wanted them to take me seriously. It felt like he did. Then he dumped me for someone who was only seventeen.” She shifted against Sebastian. “I also dated a professor.”

  “While he was teaching you?”

  “No, afterward. Well, we kissed once when I was taking his class, but it didn’t really start until the next semester. I know, I was stupid.”

  “It’s not you. It’s him. He was your professor.”

  “Yeah, it was fucked up. But it felt like I had a dirty little secret, and I loved it...for a few weeks. He was kind of an ass, to be honest, and he had another girlfriend. Anyway, that’s why I’ve taken a break from dating for nearly a year now.”

  “Have you’ve enjoyed it?”

  “It’s been good. More time to spend with friends, crochet, and watch Netflix. I feel like I have a better handle on who I am. Only problem was that I missed sex, but I have that now.” She tapped his naked ass.

  “Do you plan to date again?”

  “Oh, sure. I haven’t sworn off dating for the rest of my life. Just figured I could use a long break. Hopefully, when I start dating again, I’ll be better at seeing past bullshit.”

  It seemed like she was pretty good at seeing past bullshit now.

  She sounded matter-of-fact and cautiously optimistic that one day, it would work out. He couldn’t help being impressed she’d gone through all that and become the person he’d gotten to know over the past two weeks. Fun, joyful, thoughtful, and down-to-earth. He knew she could survive more shit, but he wanted to prevent her from going through it again.

  He was about to—jokingly, of course—suggest he vet her potential boyfriends, but he couldn’t get the words out. The idea of her being with someone else was difficult to think about.

  “None of them were as big as you,” she said, “in case you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t. That would be odd.”

  “I don’t know, men are weird about dick size. Why did I end up dating multiple men who were convinced they needed Magnums but didn’t?” She stretched out next to him. “What about you? Have you dated a lot of women?”

  “Just a few.”

  “My dating history must seem rather excessive to you.”

  “No, I’m not judging.”

  It made you who you are today, and I think you’re amazing.

  This was the truth, but he wasn’t sure why he was quite so sappy about it.

  He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, just enjoyed having her in his bed. It w
as getting late, though, and they both had to work tomorrow.

  “You want to stay the night?” he asked, surprising himself.

  “No, I should probably be going.”

  He tried not to be disappointed.

  Chapter 8

  Wednesday after dinner, Amber was watching a baking show and working on her latest crochet project when the TV and lights suddenly went out.

  No big deal. The power would probably just be off for a few minutes.

  She took out her phone and looked at a houseplant forum. She’d joined it on a whim last summer when her fern was dying.

  She had yet to make a single post.

  She was, quite frankly, terrified to do so. Who would have thought that houseplant enthusiasts would be so vicious? But they were. Someone had posted a picture of their succulent the other day, and there had been a heated debate over what type of succulent it was. Last week, a woman had managed to kill a cactus, and oh my God, she’d gotten destroyed.

  Amber, for whatever reason, enjoyed the low-stakes and high-drama debates.

  She’d also learned quite a bit about ferns and had managed to figure out what was wrong with hers, but she would never, ever post her own question.

  After looking through the houseplant forum, she went to Instagram. She followed a bunch of bakers who posted pictures of their amazing cakes, and there was a spectacular geode cake today.

  Finally, Amber got tired of social media, and her phone battery was running low.

  And the power still hadn’t come back on.

  She looked at the Twitter feed for the hydro company, which confirmed that yes, there was a localized outage, and they expected it to last until midnight, maybe later.

  Midnight! It was only eight thirty now. What would Amber do for the next three hours? And what if the power wasn’t back on by tomorrow morning?

  Maybe she could stay with Gloria.

  She texted her friend but didn’t get a response, and actually, that was a bit of a relief.

  Because now she could ask Sebastian.

  She figured Sebastian would be home on a Wednesday night, and he’d let her stay—after all, he’d asked her to stay on Sunday.

  She’d said no. Although she didn’t have strict rules about not staying overnight with a guy other than a boyfriend, it had seemed a little relationship-y for her comfort.

  But now, her power was out. It was only sensible.

  She texted Sebastian, and she got a reply a couple minutes later.

  Sure, come on over.

  Amber could barely contain her grin.

  She needed to make sure they focused on sex, with a side of friendship. Nothing romantic about tonight at all. No snuggling up while they watched a movie.

  She had better ideas.

  * * *

  Amber set down her overnight bag and slipped off her winter boots.

  “Hey,” Sebastian said, his hands slung in the pouch of his hoodie. “Sorry about your power.”

  “Are you?” she asked, sliding her hands under his sweatshirt and T-shirt.

  She couldn’t think straight now that she was touching him, especially not after what she’d done before leaving her apartment. It had been hard to get dressed in the dark, and it had taken a while to find what she needed.

  She kissed him hard on the lips, and he growled.

  “I have something to show you,” she said coyly. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  “Lead the way.” His rough voice vibrated inside her.

  Once they were in the bedroom, she pushed him down on the bed so that he was lying on his back, his head on the pillows.

  Then she stood at the foot of the bed and tossed her sweatshirt on the floor.

  He breathed in sharply.

  She wasn’t wearing anything particularly revealing. Just a skirt, a button-down white shirt with one—okay, maybe two—more buttons undone that was strictly proper. Plus the vest she’d bought the other day. Some minor adjustments and she could wear this to the office.

  “You like it?” she asked.

  “You look hot.” He leaned forward and reached for her.

  “Uh-uh. You only get to touch when I tell you to.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Okay.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing, but she’d wanted to wear something he’d like, and she wanted to be in charge for a little. The other day, when he’d cooked her dinner and they’d talked for a long time in bed, she’d felt like she was losing some control of the situation.

  But not now.

  They were going to fuck.

  His gaze raked over her, and he licked his lips.

  She got a thrill out of turning him on, more than what she’d experienced with other men.

  Discarding that thought, she crawled across the bed toward him, her hands and legs staying on either side of his body.

  And...oh.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She wouldn’t tell him why she’d winced, not yet.

  He was looking down her shirt—he must have a good view of her cleavage in this position—and she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He kept his hands fisted in the blanket when she touched his cheek and kissed him, her tongue stroking against his.

  Next, she got to work on his jeans. She unbuckled his belt, unzipped the zipper, and slid her hand over the hot length of him.

  He hissed and tore his mouth away from hers.

  Oh, just you wait. She’d hardly gotten started.

  She moved to his side and took his erection—as much of it as she could—in her mouth.

  He gripped her hair and moved her up and down on his cock. When she squirmed, the toy shifted inside her, and she groaned.

  Fuck.

  She couldn’t wait any longer. She rolled off him, removed her skirt and panties...and watched his eyes widen. To give him the full effect, she stood up beside the bed and clenched her inner muscles.

  She was wearing a dress shirt and vest, but her tits were almost hanging out, and the end of a dildo stuck out of her.

  He looked at her with very appreciative shock.

  Sebastian was the good son, who’d gone to medical school and hadn’t given up on piano lessons but instead got his ARCT.

  And here he was, mouth hanging open, pants undone, watching with rapt attention as Amber pumped a toy in and out of her body.

  She took a moment to savor the situation.

  She felt like she was the bad girl corrupting him, even though that wasn’t true. He hadn’t had as many sexual partners as she had, but he’d been in relationships and was clearly experienced in making a woman feel good.

  And though Amber’s life was actually quite respectable now—decent apartment, decent job—in this position, she felt anything but respectable, and it was a great feeling. Empowering.

  Yes, with him, she had power. He wasn’t some asshole with weird and possibly racist preconceived notions of who she should be. They’d known each other for a long time, but—perhaps because they hadn’t seen each other in nine years—she could be who she wanted with him and know he’d see her that way. The way she wanted to be seen.

  He yanked off his shirt and crawled toward the edge of the bed. She breathed in swiftly, her attention focused on the swell of his biceps, his erection bobbing between his legs.

  And the toy inside her, of course.

  He came to sit in front of her on the bed, his feet planted on the ground.

  “You,” he whispered, “are incredible. That toy looks so fucking pretty in your pussy.”

  Her skin sparked at his words. She loved when he talked to her like this. When he was filthy, rather than the proper man the world saw.

  He grasped the end of the dildo. “May I?”

  Filthy, but polite.

  “Please.”

  Slowly, he slid it in and out of her. His gaze was riveted on hers, as though he was memorizing every quick gasp, every flutter of her eyelids.

  �
�God, you’re so sexy.” His other hand moved over her ass, kneading and squeezing. “Naughty girl.” He gave her a light slap.

  Then he let go of the toy and unbuttoned her vest, followed by her shirt. These, and her bra, were tossed on the carpet before he returned to sliding the toy inside her.

  “Sebastian,” she moaned. “I can’t...I’m not going to...” Her legs started to quiver.

  “Come to bed,” he murmured, scooping her ass toward him. She fell on top of him, laughing. “On your elbows and knees.”

  It wasn’t a command. Well, not what she thought of as a command. His words were quiet, and not firm—but not weak, either. It wasn’t a question—and yet it was. If it will please you, this is what I want you to do.

  She wasn’t in control anymore, and yet she was.

  She did exactly as he said, her face toward the foot of the bed, her ass toward the pillows. She sensed him adjusting himself behind her.

  “Good girl,” he said.

  She was acutely aware of every inch of her bare skin; it felt overly sensitized.

  “Touch me,” she whispered.

  * * *

  Sebastian would touch her soon, but for now, he’d simply enjoy the delectable image in front of him.

  Thank God for power outages.

  Amber hadn’t simply thrown a few things in a bag and come over to his well-lit home. No, she’d put on a special outfit just for him.

  The toy he’d used on her the very first time. Sexy work clothes, similar to the one she’d worn for bubble tea, which he’d professed to like very much.

  For him.

  And for her, of course. He knew she wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t enjoy it.

  There were so many things he wished to do to her.

  “You’re face-down on my bed with your ass in the air,” he observed. “Is that because you need a spanking?”

  He could tell from the hitch in her breath that she liked the idea, but he waited for her to speak.

  “Yes,” she said.

  He wouldn’t spank her hard, but God, he was desperate to see his hand hit her ass.

  First, he palmed her ass gently, then raised his hand up.

  He smacked her.

  She trembled.

  “Okay?” he asked.