His movements economic, he showered and shampooed his hair, feeling as if he was symbolically washing away the desolation and despair that seemed to permeate the air at the prison down the drain with the suds. Once dry, he donned the comfortable black leather pants he preferred wearing on the floor. His favorite Timberlands completed the outfit.
At five-foot-seven, Larry wasn’t the tallest man, but he was muscular and well defined. And, at fifty-eight, his previously reddish-blond hair had finally turned a silver that seemed to have the ladies going nuts. His skin sported both knife and bullet scars – the hazards of a dangerous job.
Right over his heart, he wore a compass tattoo. The letters TN took place of honor at the top of the elaborate compass. When questioned in the past, he’d always said it stood for True North. He’d never divulged the T, in fact, stood for Tahlia – the one he considered to be his true north.
Grabbing his duffel bag, he dropped his wet towel in a hamper and left the room to search for Ginger.
As he made his way to the submissive’s waiting area, he noticed Jim chatting with a woman he didn’t recognize, but the man’s body language told him interest was high. Looked like he wasn’t the only one getting laid tonight. Smiling for the first time since leaving the prison earlier that day, he greeted the bouncer at the bottom of the stairs leading to the play floors.
He climbed the stairs and breathed in the smell of pleasure, absorbing the sounds of play. Now that he was here, he realized how much he’d missed the place. He walked toward the submissives’ waiting area, his eyes lingering for a moment on a scene close to him.
A young woman was draped over a spanking bench, her hands and feet secured with leather straps. Her Dominant expertly wielded a paddle, her ass already a gorgeous, rosy hue. She lay with her eyes closed, clearly lost in the rhythm of the blows as they kissed her skin. Stopping a moment to admire his work, the man smoothed a reverent hand over the reddened globes. He leaned over to speak quietly in her ear. Larry saw her give him a soft smile and shake her head.
The Dom kissed her passionately before returning to his position behind her. The paddling resumed, and the beautiful woman once again gave herself over to the bliss.
The intimacy of the play had Larry going hard. It had been far too long since he’d shared such closeness with anyone. While he loved a good scene, it was that very intimacy he enjoyed the most. He turned his head to continue his search for Ginger. If he hadn’t already been seriously in need of release before, he certainly was now.
Finally, he spotted Ginger standing off to the side. She too was watching a scene. Larry strode over to where she stood, and as he approached, she glanced in his direction. Her eyes were bright, her excitement almost palpable. He reached out a hand as he came to a stop in front of her.
“Ready, sweetness?”
“Yes, Sir.” She gave him one of her sweet smiles, the very one that had caused him to give her the nickname. She placed her hand in his and let him lead her to an open spot.
He put his duffle bag down and turned to Ginger.
“Come undress and kneel for me.” He watched as she did as instructed. She neatly folded her clothes and placed them to the side before gracefully sinking to her knees. She spread her thighs and put her hands behind her back, as she knew he preferred. “It pleases me that you remember after all this time.”
Circling her, Larry took her waterfall of straight, blonde hair in both hands and deftly braided the silky stands. He reached into a pocket for a hair tie to fasten it. Satisfied with his handiwork, he went over to his bag. and pulled out an inky-black crop.
He looked over at Ginger and noted how her body fairly vibrated in the knowledge of what was to come. Larry caressed the skin of her right breast with the tip of the crop before landing the first blow. With a flick of his wrist, he grazed her right nipple and watched as it beaded. The crop glided over her skin to give her left breast the same attention.
Flick. He repeated the action on her left nipple. Flick. First one, then the other.
Ginger’s eyes had already begun to glaze, and he decided it was time to level it up a notch. He ran the crop across the alabaster skin of her chest before snapping it against a tightly furled little bud. The sound could be heard over the noisiness of the room. Her whimper of pleasure brought a grin to his face. He loved how responsive she was.
Pleased with the bright blush of her skin, he held out a hand to help her stand. With care, he placed the handle of the crop between Ginger’s teeth. Smoothed his hands over the heated skin of her breasts.
Removing the crop from her mouth, he trailed it up her leg, starting at her foot. Up her inner thigh. As his eyes followed the path of the crop, he saw a delicate shiver wrack Ginger’s frame. Larry knew she anticipated the fall of the crop on her most intimate part, but he stopped short. Moved on to the other leg.
Without warning, the crop’s tongue landed on her bare mound. She jumped slightly at the unexpected blow, then groaned loudly.
“So wet for me already.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Larry moved around Ginger, trailing the crop over her curves, coming to stand behind her. Slowly, he started again. First gentle strikes, then firmer. The snap of the crop made a satisfying sound as it connected with her skin. No two blows landed on the same spot.
When her skin was sufficiently warmed, he exchanged the crop for a braided flogger. He knew Ginger had a particular weakness for it. Of all the toys and implements, she loved this one above all. He also took a piece of scarlet silk ribbon out of his bag.
“Hands behind you.”
Immediately, Ginger moved to do as she was told. Larry gently secured the ribbon over her wrists.
“Are you ready for the flogger, little one?”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
“Keep your hands open and relaxed, and no coming without permission.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
He snapped the whip, the tails swishing through the air, warning Ginger of the first stroke to come. With a steady rhythm, Larry alternated between front and back. Strike after strike. Once again, no two in the same place. Her sounds of pleasure rang out, driving his own needs higher.
As the flogger swept across her palms and the globes of her buttocks, Ginger cried out.
He crouched down, dropping soothing, open-mouthed kisses on each hand. Laving the skin with his tongue. As he stood, he trailed a finger down the crack of her ass.
“How long do you think you can last, little one? Let’s see. No coming without permission. Ten strokes — count them out for me.”
The strands of the flogger trailed over her reddening palms before he raised the flogger, higher than he had been doing. Larry landed the first one.
“One,” Ginger called breathlessly.
It was followed, almost immediately, by another.
“Two.”
Rhythm steady, Larry delivered another six strokes.
With the next one, he lifted his arm a little higher. As a hearty swat landed on her ass, tears trickled down her smooth cheek. The last blow had Ginger letting loose a long, low moan, the sound laced with her lust.
“Ten, Sir.”
“Would you like to come?”
“Oh yes, please, Sir.”
He stepped closer, his arms going around her curvy little frame to play with her full breasts, pulling on her taut nipples. Hard. Another moan. He dropped his right hand between her legs and rubbed her clit. The action wound her tighter, her body responding to the extra stimulation. The evidence of her arousal coated her puffy lips and the inside of her thighs. He slid two fingers into her drenched feminine core.
“You’ve done well. But it’s not yet time for you to come. Do you think you can take a little more?”
He could see Ginger attempt to settle her breathing, tightly caught up in the ecstasy of the moment. He stepped behind her, putting his arms around her.
“Breathe with me, little one. Match your breath
ing to mine.”
She did as he said, inhaled and exhaled in unison. They stood like that for long moments as Ginger gained control.
Eventually, she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
With a smile, he stepped back. “The paddle this time, I think.”
Larry removed the paddle from his bag, taking his time. He let the anticipation grow as she waited for him to land the first smack. Again, he reached into the bag and took out a blindfold this time. He lifted it over her head, careful not to pull any of the silken strands as he settled it over her eyes.
“Okay? The blindfold isn’t too tight?”
“No, Sir. It’s fine.”
“Very well. You’ll count again. Another ten. And remember, no coming.”
“As it pleases you, Sir.”
“Here we go. Ready?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Without another word, Larry swung his arm and watched with satisfaction as Ginger’s ass cheeks jiggled under the strike of the paddle.
“One.”
Whomp. The paddle landed on the opposite side.
“Two.” She groaned long and low in her throat.
Ginger continued to count out the smacks, her voice becoming progressively hoarser as they neared the last one. Her state of euphoria was palpable. Eyes completely glazed over with passion. Her legs trembled violently. Before she could collapse, he lowered her gently to the floor within the cradle of his arms, smoothed a hand over her hair.
When she’d come back down sufficiently, Larry lay her down and stood. He collected the crop and flogger from the small table he’d left them on and put them in his bag along with the paddle. He picked it up and slung the bag crosswise across his body before returning to Ginger. Then he bent to pick the young woman up from where she rested.
Larry was so hard he feared he might bust the zipper on his pants. As he held the slight weight of Ginger in his arms, his erection pressed into her hip, demanding attention. He made his way to the nearest empty privacy room, set her on her feet, and closed the door behind them.
“Onto the bench, little one.”
Ginger made her way over to the bench, while Larry went to put his bag down on a table on the opposite side of the room. Removing his boots, he left them beside the bag. He turned around in time to watch as she gracefully draped herself face down on the padded bondage bench. By this time, his cock was throbbing from being confined, and he had to bite back a groan of relief as he eased the zipper down, stepping out of his pants. He made short work of sheathing himself, eager to sink into Ginger’s wet heat.
Gently, Larry wrapped the long golden braid around his wrist, tilting Ginger’s head back. His kiss deep, he plundered the warm depths of her mouth, and he eased himself into her in a single glide.
As he powered in and out of her, he placed open-mouthed kisses up and down her back, then sank his teeth into the fleshy part of her shoulder. He felt a shudder roll through Ginger’s body in response.
“Oh god, please, Sir.”
“Do you need to come?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Hang on just a little longer. We’re almost there.”
Larry could smell the scent of her arousal and felt his balls tighten. Gritting his teeth in an attempt to make it last, he felt the tell-tale tingle start low in his spine. He fought to stave off the orgasm he felt looming. Just a little longer. It had been so long since he’d lost himself in the warmth of a woman, he wanted to savor the moment.
When he could hold out no more, he leaned over and whispered in Ginger’s ear, “Come for me. Let me hear you.”
He latched his teeth onto the delicate shell of her ear. With a wail of release, she let go and came all over his cock. Her inner muscles gripped him like a vice as her orgasm washed over her, milking him for all he was worth. His own orgasm left him spent and replete.
For a moment, he leaned his torso over her and rested against her back to catch his breath.
“Okay, little one?”
Ginger nodded, still breathing heavily. He eased out of her, disposing of the condom, and pulled his pants on before he went over to his bag. Quickly stowing his gear, he returned to help her up.
Larry settled in a nearby chair, cradling Ginger in his arms. Completely drained, she lay her head on his shoulder, eyes closed. He pulled a soft blanket over them both before offering her a sip of water from the bottle he’d taken from his bag. Then he cared for the little sub as was his duty and his privilege, feeling at peace for the first time in a long while.
When Ginger was finally ready, he placed her gently on her feet and stood himself.
“Thank you, Sir.” Ginger placed the softest of kisses on his lips.
“Believe me, little one, that was my pleasure.”
With one last smile, she left the room.
7
Tahlia couldn’t remember when she’d last been this happy. If she thought back, she wasn’t even sure she ever had been. Maybe as a child, but certainly not during the long, grueling years of her marriage.
Sure, things had been fine in the beginning. But once she’d lost their son, their relationship had quickly fallen to pieces. The devastating loss of her baby had coincided with the realization that Marcus had married her for convenience – a beautiful wife he could put on display and whom he expected to provide him with a male heir.
The only light in the darkness of that hell had been her sweet Maddie and Laurence. He protected her as best as he could in his limited capacity. And when he’d been unable to keep her out of harm’s way, he’d taken care of her. The day he’d left, Tahlia had given up on life. She understood he’d left because she wasn’t willing to leave Marcus at the time, but once he was gone, she hadn’t cared that every beating could very well be her last. In fact, there’d been days she’d prayed it would be.
The kettle whistled from the kitchen, pulling her out of her reverie. She got up to make herself a cup of tea, determined not to allow the memory of those dark days to destroy the happiness she now had.
Maddie had messaged to say she’d be coming to fetch her to look at flowers. Beside herself with excitement, Tahlia said a silent prayer of thanks for the blessing of reconnecting with her daughter.
As she stood stirring sugar into her cup, her cell phone chimed. Tahlia picked the phone up to read the message, thinking it would be Maddie. But it wasn’t from her daughter. An unknown number appeared on the screen. Curious as to who it could be, she opened the message.
Ice cold fear slithered down her spine as she read it.
Unknown number: Know what we do to snitches, bitch? Stay out of shit that don’t concern you none, or you gonna find out.
She was so unnerved by the venom of the message that the phone fell from her suddenly numb fingers and clattered to the counter. She simply stood staring at it in horror. Her hands shook as she lifted one to her mouth, her breaths stuttering over her parted lips. She’d been hesitant to turn the papers in the safety deposit box over to Laurence. Not knowing what they were but somehow realizing they had significance. Now it seemed it was, indeed, coming back to bite her.
Her mind scrambled to figure out what her next move should be while trying desperately not to spiral into panic. Anxiety attacks and depression had been Tahlia’s reality for all the years she’d been with Marcus. It had taken a long time and a great deal of hard work to finally get over them. She had no intention of going back to living that way. She was stronger now, and as soon as she calmed down, she’d figure this out too.
Taking a bolstering sip of tea, Tahlia pondered her situation. As she set the cup back in the saucer, there was a knock on her door. Who on earth is that now? Maddie’s the only one who knows I’m here.
She went to answer the knock to find her hostess standing there with a florist’s box in her hands.
“Mrs. Wilson, hello.”
“Hello dear. This just arrived for you, so I thought I’d bring them up before they wilt. Seems you have an admirer.” The older lady grinned at he
r, a twinkle in her eye.
With a smile of her own, Tahlia took the box from the other woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Wilson. That’s very kind of you.”
“No trouble, dear. Enjoy your afternoon, and your flowers,” the woman said as she turned to leave.
Tahlia closed the door and carried the box to her tiny kitchenette. She was sure she’d seen a vase somewhere in there. Laying the it down on the counter, she checked for a card. When she found none, she lifted the lid to search inside. As the lid lifted free, the pungent smell of dead lilies hit her nose.
Inside the box was a single arum lily, long dead and smelling like it. The petals curled over at the top, edged in decaying brown. The stem was slimy where it was rotting. She simply stared in horror. Her hand clenched around the lid she still held, the edge digging into her hand in her tight grip.
When the pain of her fingers registered, she dropped the lid onto the counter, glancing over at it. That’s when she noticed the little envelope taped to the inside. Her name and address neatly typed on the front of it. With shaking hands, she pulled it free and opened it. A plain white card was tucked inside with just one sentence typed on it.
You’ve been warned.
The shaking that’d started in her hands worked its way through her whole body. Her heartbeat pounded. Goosebumps erupted over her skin. She broke out in a cold sweat. Breath sawed in and out her lungs as if she’d been running a race.
Oh god, what am I going to do? They know about the papers. But who? What have I done?
Tahlia’s legs gave out, and she sank rather gracelessly to the floor where she sat for a long time, staving off a panic attack with everything in her. She thought back to the sessions Friends of Patty had organized for her with a psychologist. The woman had taught her how to beat the fear and the anxiety back, to find her center and return to a calmer frame of mind.
She focused on her ragged breathing, working to get it under control as the hyperventilating made her lightheaded. Deepening the breaths, she inhaled to a count of five before exhaling the same way. Then she shifted her focus to her thoughts, following the technique her therapist had taught her. Tahlia battled the chaos in her mind to remember her favorite cookie recipe she’d often made for Maddie as a child.
Trusting Laurence Page 6