Текст книги "Sinfully Mine"

Автор книги: Kendall Ryan

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

Chapter Five

Reece

 

When I got home and saw what Macey had done to my apartment, she thought I was mad, but I was actually kind of in awe. I’ve never had a girlfriend, never had someone who cared enough to spend her time doing little things just for me. Thoughtful things like organizing and tidying up my place. Facing all my damn hangers the same way. Or making sure I had a soft, fluffy rug to step out on after showering, versus the cold tile that I was used to.

I’m just glad she didn’t find my stash of toys. I can only imagine the butt plugs would be organized by size, the vibrators by color and intensity. A little bit of chaos in life is a good thing. Not to mention, I don’t want to scare her off before we even begin. She might be putting on a brave face, but I know that I’ll be opening her up to a whole new world. I could smell the fear and uncertainty on her during that club tour as if she was wearing it like a perfume.

Needing to keep busy before our meeting tonight, I find myself in my office down on the main floor of the club, catching up on business. As I gaze at my laptop screen, I realize I’ve been staring at the same blank spreadsheet for twenty minutes. Shit. I’m not even sure what I’m hoping to accomplish right now, just that I can’t hang around upstairs with Macey so close in my personal space. It’s throwing me off my fucking game, but I intend to get back control tonight.

“Hey, boss.” Chrissy, the club sub, pokes her head in my office doorway.

“Hey, Chrissy. Everything all right?”

“Yeah. Just worried about you.”

“Me?” I’ve never given my employees a reason to worry about me, and I don’t plan to start now.

She tilts her head, examining me. “You’ve been different since that girl arrived.”

“Macey?”

She nods. “That’s the one. Unless you’re hiding another woman upstairs in your apartment . . .”

“No. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.”

“You don’t let women stay over, though, so I assume she’s someone you’re serious about, but I’ve never heard you talk about her before.”

“She and I go way back, and I’m trying to figure out how she fits into my life here, if it all.”

Chrissy lets herself in and sinks into the chair across from me. She and I have a long history, mostly just as friends, though there were a few times when she first began coming to the club that we shared more. Now she’s an employee, and call me old-fashioned, but I don’t fuck my employees. Chrissy’s a good girl, and we look out for each other.

“She used to be your submissive?” she asks, a look of concern crossing her features.

“No. We knew each other ages ago. She’s not into the lifestyle.”

Chrissy smiles at me warmly. “She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t interested.”

That’s the problem, though. I don’t know if she’s interested in me, curious about what goes on behind closed doors, or simply running from a crappy situation and grasping onto the first distraction she can find. I intend to find out.

Chrissy’s gaze softens, and she leans in closer. “In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never had a girlfriend, never taken on a submissive as your own.”

Narrowing my eyes, I lean back in my chair. “And? Your point is?” My annoyance is rising by the second. I don’t appreciate people meddling in my personal life.

“Behind the tough Dom exterior, I know you’re actually a sweet guy, Reece. I just want you to be happy.” She smiles at me sadly.

“I’m fine, Chrissy.”

A flash of movement catches my eye, and I glance toward the door.

It’s Macey. A flicker of an unidentifiable emotion crosses her face as she says, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to confirm the time for tonight.”

I know it’s just an excuse because I cleared the time with her upstairs. I’m not sure if she came down here to see me or was merely curious about club business. Her gaze wanders from me over to Chrissy, and she goes completely still.

Chrissy’s dressed in her black vintage lingerie—lacy high-waisted panties, garters, stockings with a seam that runs up the back, and on top, a corset that allows her ample breasts to spill over. I’m so accustomed to seeing her like this, I don’t even look twice, but Macey’s cheeks flush.

“No, I was just leaving,” Chrissy says, rising to her feet. “I have to get back to work. I have a bossy Dom who’ll be here any minute, and he’ll redden my ass if I’m late.” She smiles. “Oh, darn.”

I chuckle as Chrissy heads to the door. She’s good at her job, that’s for sure.

Chrissy pauses at the door before exiting and faces Macey. “Be careful with him,” she says before sauntering away. Macey remains speechless near the door.

“Seven o’clock,” I remind Macey. “Wear something nice.”

She nods and ducks out of my office, escaping like a scared little mouse.

Well, that was interesting.

• • •

At ten minutes to seven, I walk into the restaurant and request a table in the back. I want to be here when Macey arrives. And after working all afternoon, I need a few minutes to get in the right mind space for this conversation.

Leave it to her to walk back into my life and uproot everything in a matter of two damn days. Christ, I’ve been letting her walk all over me, call all the shots. That won’t do. I need to regain the upper hand. She hasn’t seen my dominant side, but she’s about to.

After being seated at the white-clothed table with a small candle in the center, I order us a bottle of wine. The lighting is dim, and all of the other patrons seem to be couples. Frowning down at the candle bathing our secluded table and two wineglasses in a romantic glow of light, I mutter a silent curse. Why had I insisted on bringing Macey here? It feels romantic in a way that this situation doesn’t call for. All she’s looking to do is forget her troubles for a while, and I’m the man she wants to do it with. I need to treat her as I would any new submissive entering the scene.

Moments later, the hostess escorts a timid-looking Macey back to greet me. I drink in her long glossy hair that I want to wrap in my fist, her tight and curvy body built for a man’s pleasure, and that sinful mouth I want to fuck. As beautiful as she is, seeing her reminds me of the past, a painful past that I’ve tucked away and tried to forget. She was my first love—the girl who broke my heart—and I’ve changed a lot since then. No sense in reverting now because those big blue eyes are latched onto mine as if she’d follow me anywhere.

I need to remain cool and detached, just like I would with any potential sub, but damn if I don’t want to collar her and drag her back to my bed and fuck her senseless.

Rising from the table, I walk slowly and deliberately toward her. Macey’s eyes widen and her mouth opens as if she wants to say something, but just as quickly she closes it and lets me take her hand, escorting her away from the hostess and toward our table. Before pulling out her chair, I lean in close and drop my voice to a whisper.

“Tonight, I’m going to treat you as I would any other sub. Which means I’m in charge, and you will do as I ask. Any complaints or issues with that, Pancake?” My voice is calm and steady, and Macey takes note.

She shakes her head, wisely choosing to remain silent. When I pull out her chair, she gracefully lowers herself into her seat, and I can’t help but notice how sexy she looks wearing a black minidress and matching six-inch heels. Damn. The little girl I once knew has definitely grown up. She’s a fucking bombshell.

Before we have the chance to settle in, the waitress approaches the table, looking between us. Her gaze lingers on me long enough that Macey rolls her eyes.

“Are you out for a special occasion?” the waitress asks.

I glance at Macey and fight off a smirk. “You could say that.”

“Anything other than the wine, miss?” the waitress asks Macey.

“This is great, thank you.” Her eyes lock on me when she answers, as if she’s already a sub in my care, looking for guidance and direction. My cock twitches under the table.

“I’ll just give you a minute with the menus then,” the waitress says, then scampers off.

I pour Macey a glass of red wine and set it in front of her. Her shoulders are stiff, and she’s clutching the menu so hard her knuckles are white. Remembering that it’s my job to set her at ease, I glance up at her over my menu. “I forgot to ask earlier, how’s your nana?”

The mood relaxes instantly, and she smiles up at me. “She’s good. She’ll be eighty-one this year. Cam and I want to plan her a big party with all of her friends from the retirement community.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, you know, tapioca pudding and Polka music. It’ll be off the hook.”

Her smile is sunny and bright, and I can’t help but chuckle at her. She’s so strong and well-adjusted, despite losing her parents at such a tender age. It’s just one of the many things I admire about Macey.

“Tonight we’ll discuss the parameters of your training.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, my sexless BDSM training. Sounds like a blast.”

“That’s your brother’s request, not mine.”

“It’s not his business who I let near my vagina, Reece. We both know that. I’m an adult now.”

A woman at the neighboring table is staring at us, so I lean closer to Macey. “Keep your voice down,” I remind her. “We don’t want to attract an audience.” I might be good fodder for Chicago’s gossip websites, but I’d rather keep my private life private.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m serious about this. I told you what I wanted. You’ve told me what my brother wants. But what do you want?”

I pull a deep breath into my lungs and study the woman seated before me. What do I want? That’s the million-dollar question.

Ever since Macey so casually strolled out of my life without so much as a backward glance, things turned to shit. My parents divorced after twenty-three years of marriage, each moving to opposite coasts. My dad is in New Jersey with his brothers and family, while my mom is trying to recapture her youth, living in Redondo Beach and dating a surf instructor.

Meanwhile, I quietly built my business, casually experimenting with submissives to pass the time, never giving thought to what I really want. And now it seems I have the chance to do that. But wanting something and taking what you shouldn’t have are two different things. Just because my body wants the physical pleasure that being with Macey would provide, does that make it right? I’m sure Hale won’t think so. Maybe I was stupid to ask his permission. Now that I have his parameters, doesn’t that make it worse when I take her anyway?

“I promised your brother there wouldn’t be any sexual contact in these lessons,” I repeat. Maybe if I say it enough times, it’ll get easier to swallow, but I doubt it.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She’s pouting, actually fucking pouting those pretty pink lips at me. Those lips that I’ve imagined wrapped around my cock since the day she arrived.

I lean closer and tuck a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. “I know, sweetheart, but I’m trying here. I’m trying to instruct you, and also be a good friend to Hale.”

“What Hale doesn’t know won’t hurt him. We’re both grown-ups, right?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t your lessons usually involve sex?”

“Yes,” I say, unequivocally. Fuck. Yes.

“Well, I want my junk touching your junk. Do you want that too?”

“Yeah,” I choke out. Did she just say junk?

“Okay then, it’s settled. Three lessons. Our genitals will be friends, and that’s it. At the end of it, we part ways.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

I take a deep breath, steeling my resolve. I have to stick to the terms of our agreement—three lessons. Three opportunities to show Macey who’s in charge. There can be no emotional ties. No, this will be all about the physical.

Even if my heart wanted her at one time, things have changed. My faith in love has been all but obliterated, initially by my own first love, then by watching my parents’ marriage dissolve into a nasty battle. Later it was further damaged by witnessing my best friend’s betrayal by the woman he gave his heart to. I’ve been successful at completely tuning it all out, allowing me to become the man I am today.

The only kind of relationship I want is the kind where naked women trust me with their willing bodies and curious minds. I live for that hazy, disoriented sub-space look in their eyes after a particularly intense scene. The one that tells me they idolize my very existence and will do anything I command. I feel ten feet tall in those moments, like a pure sex god built for doling out pleasure and punishment.

Taking Macey to that place is something I’ve fantasized about, but never thought I’d make a reality. Do I dare go there with the woman who once owned me so completely?

You bet your sweet ass I’m going to. You only live once, right? There’s a saying for this . . . carpe diem or something. Seize the day, I think. Macey is giving me her submission on a silver platter, and what happens behind closed doors will be our business. Hale doesn’t call all the shots, even if he likes to think he does.

Leaning forward with my elbows on the table, I lift my gaze to Macey’s. “What I want, sweetheart is you naked, bound, and spread open before me, your wrists laced together with my rope, your ankles pinned with my spreader bar. Your cunt waiting for me to fill it. You will be used as I see fit. Do you understand?”

Her quick inhalation of breath signals this is an idea she finds appealing, which only excites me more. I have to remind myself to keep detached.

“Will I be gagged?” she asks.

“No.” I smile at her. “You won’t be gagged. I’ll want to hear all the pretty whimpers and cries falling from your mouth.”

“And what about you?” she asks. “Will I be able to touch you? Kiss you?”

My own heart rate spikes despite the calm, cool demeanor I’m struggling to keep in place. “Do you want those things?”

Nodding eagerly, she meets my stare. “I think you know I do.”

“I don’t know you anymore, Macey. You keep forgetting that. You’ve walked back in my life like we can pick up right where we left off, but we’ve both changed.”

She watches me for a few quiet moments, as if she wants to disagree. “You never answered the question.” A smile twitches on her mouth.

“You will touch me when, how, and where I say.” My tone comes out harsher than I intended. Damn, get it together. “And kissing is not something I generally do with my submissives, but given our history, I’ll take it under advisement.”

Fuck, there’s nothing I want more than my mouth on hers. Watching her pretty blue eyes fall closed, feeling the warmth of her tongue sweep against mine . . .

I down the remainder of my wine, then catch her gaze. “We need to cover a few things. How many sexual partners have you had?”

She licks her lips, looking down at her plate. I don’t know why she’s embarrassed to tell me her number. Unless it’s really high . . . or really low . . .

“Macey? Look at me.”

She clears her throat, and her eyes dart up. “Two.”

“That’s it?” Fuck me, that’s not what I was expecting. It makes me want her pussy on my mouth. Right now.

The waitress saunters up and stops next to our table. “Ready to order?”

Hell yeah, I am. Pussy à la carte, please.

Well aware Macey hasn’t absorbed a word of the menu she’s been studying, I glance at her. “May I?”

She nods.

“We’ll have the coconut chicken with avocado and mango salad, please.” It’s one of the best things on their menu. “Rice and beans?” I direct my question toward Macey.

“Sure.”

“An order of each,” I tell the waitress, and we hand over our menus.

“Thank you,” Macey says.

I want to thank her for trusting me, but I don’t. I simply nod. There’s nothing more beautiful than a sub who can feel at ease and confident enough to fully hand me the reins. And something tells me we’re well on our way. It makes the Dominant inside me roar to life.

There’s a delicate dance happening between us. We know each other intimately, yet we don’t. I’ve changed a lot from the man she remembers. I’ve grown harder and more distant with every passing relationship that didn’t measure up to what she and I once shared. And Macey, I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s been through, having her heart broken by some MILF-chasing douchebag. Starting over in her hometown after living away for many years.

“It’s an interesting scenario . . . you and I . . . our history,” I say.

“How so?” she asks, her fingers delicately fingering the stem of her wineglass.

“Generally my first meeting with a new submissive is more question and answer. I’m working to gain her trust, but with you, I sense I already have that.”

She levels me with those big blue eyes. “You’ve always had it.”

“Back then, you and I . . .” I’m searching for the right words and failing. “Things got pretty heated between us . . .”

“You weren’t the first.”

A wave of possessiveness rushes through me. “I should have been.” There’s no hesitation, but after I say it, I wish I could take it back. I need to hold my cards closer to the chest, so to speak. I’ll give myself away if I’m not careful.

She nods. “In my mind you were.”

“What do you mean?” Now I’m intrigued.

“I was with someone who didn’t know what he was doing.”

“Did you come?”

A short bark of laughter erupts from her. “Not even close.”

“That’s a damn shame.”

“When I think back on that night, in my mind, we always go all the way.”

“Yeah? And how am I?”

“Eh.” She smiles that cocky smirk of a smile, the one I want desperately to kiss right off her face.

“Naughty girl.” I chuckle at her. Now that the mood’s been lightened somewhat, I press on. “Tonight will be about outlining your needs.”

She nods.

“You’ve stated that you’re looking to lose yourself. To clear your mind of clutter and enjoy carnal pleasures. In our lessons, my role will be to push you further than you’ve been before. Your role will be to trust me, and listen to your body.”

Nodding again, she takes a thoughtful sip of her wine.

Generally speaking, my role in this sort of meeting is to learn the person, learn her goals, limits, and any weak points she has. Later I will exploit those to the point of discomfort, with the goal of turning them into strengths and make her confidence soar at what she’s able to achieve during a session. Damn, if I’m not rock-fucking-hard just thinking about it.

Luckily, the waitress chooses that moment to deliver our meal. I take the opportunity to cool down by serving Macey a piece of chicken from the platter, along with spoonfuls of rice and beans.

“Eat up,” I encourage her.

Lifting her fork to her mouth, she’s quiet for now, but I can tell her brain is spinning. We enjoy half of our meal that way until my fiery Macey is back.

“Why do you do this?” she finally asks. “Why do you like submissive women?”

“First off, I don’t want you to see the word submissive with a negative connotation. It’s much more gratifying to watch a strong-willed woman submit to my desires than it is to engage with a doormat who’ll go along with anything I say. Don’t you think?”

She raises one eyebrow and stabs a slice of mango on her plate. “I suppose.”

“Don’t confuse this for what it is—I want an equal partner. Just because I’ll be the one calling the shots doesn’t mean you have no free will. In fact, I quite like spark in my women.”

“Does vanilla sex bore you?” she asks.

“No, vanilla sex doesn’t bore me. I just haven’t had a girlfriend or a serious relationship in a long time. And I tend to reserve that type of close, intimate sex with someone I’m involved with.” She doesn’t know the half of it.

“Makes sense, I guess,” she murmurs.

The wine has gotten to me, or maybe it’s just the effect this gorgeous girl has on me. She and I once shared so much.

Time to bring us back to business. “I only have two rules.”

She swallows a bite of her food, waiting for me to continue.

“That you use your safe word if things get too intense, and when this is over, it’s over. Three lessons, no strings, no attachments. I need you to agree to both rules right now, or the deal’s off.”

She frowns at the sudden change in my amiable mood. “Geez, so bossy.”

“I’m serious, Macey. Things are different this time.”

“I see that.”

Softening my tone, I add, “Your safety will always be a top priority, both physically and mentally. You don’t have to worry about that.”

She fiddles with her cloth napkin. “I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m a little nervous.”

“It’s good to be nervous. It lets you know where you weak points are. Together, we’ll push past your comfort zone until you’re in that beautiful oblivion known as sub space.”

“What’s that?”

“If I do my job correctly, you’ll be transported into a trance-like state. It’s a euphoric glow, akin to being drunk on wine, I suppose. But what goes up must come down. Just like feeling the effects of a hangover after consuming alcohol, you may feel exhausted, emotional, confused over your role in what just happened, or even physical soreness.”

She raises her chin, almost as though she’s acknowledging my words as a challenge. “I see.”

I pause while the waitress clears our dishes from the table, and when we’re alone again, I lean forward and reach under the table. Giving the legs of her chair a tug, I pull her closer. My desire for her has been building all throughout the meal. The need to give her a taste of the fun we’ll have together overwhelms me. My hand finds her thigh and skims the hem of her dress.

Macey sucks in a sharp inhale.

Our table in the dimly light restaurant is secluded, but not private, and the secret thrill of being discovered only adds to the sexually intoxicating mood.

Pushing my fingers under her dress, I slide my palm against the bare skin of her thigh. Her skin is silky smooth, and her legs part under my touch.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Pancake?” I clip out in a low tone.

She makes a small murmuring sound in the back of her throat, signaling to me that she’s more than ready for whatever I can dish up.

Jesus. Am I ready for this?

I lean closer across the table and my fingers find her center—and the lacy fabric covering her pussy. As I brush my fingers over her clit, she swears under her breath and grips the edge of the table.

“Has it been a while since a man’s properly taken care of you?”

She nods, her chest beginning to show the telltale signs of arousal. She’s flushed and pink, and breathing hard already.

Sometimes I still dream about her. Macey was a shy girl but confident with her body, touching her breasts for me while I watched, opening the delicate petals of her pussy to show me her swollen clit. I liked giving orders back then, and she took every one like a personal challenge. Maybe this won’t be so different after all. I find the hard nub of her clit and press down, eliciting the most beautiful little whimper from her.

With my free hand, I raise a finger to my lips. “Shh. Quiet.”

Macey nods.

As I move my fingers back and forth, Macey’s panties grow damp and her breathing is ragged. Just when her thighs begin to tremble, I shove the lace of her panties aside and ever so slowly sink one finger inside her heat. Her tight pussy grips me, sucking at my finger.

My cock is so hard it hurts. I don’t know why I insist on torturing myself where Macey’s concerned.

“I just remembered. Rule number three. You don’t come until I say so.”

“Reece,” she whimpers.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” That didn’t take long. She’s right about one thing. She’s wound up tight and in need of relief. And I’ll deliver, but not before I demonstrate to her exactly who’s running this show.

Whether her eyes are pleading with me to stop or continue, I can’t tell. “I’m going to . . . ,” she whispers, her voice hoarse.

I pull my hand from beneath the table, and the look painted across her features is pure anguish. She was right there. Right at that beautiful, blissful moment where nothing else exists but blinding pleasure and the building sense of release.

“Not yet. When you come all over my hand, we’ll be somewhere private where I can enjoy every second of it.”

“Then why the hell did you do that?” she asks, breathless and clearly frustrated.

I shrug, my mouth turning up in a smirk. “Just wanted to see if I could still get you off in under a few minutes.”

She frowns. “Well, don’t you deserve a pat on the back? Are we done here?”

“Eager,” I remark. Her pussy juices are drying on my finger, and it takes all my restraint not to bring my hand to my mouth to taste her. I’m a caveman, but I still have some impulse control. “Yes, let’s go.”

I leave a wad of cash on the table, including a generous tip for our waitress. I’ve never fingered a submissive under the table before, but something tells me our little show might not have gone as undetected as I thought. The waitress and busboy are grinning at me like we’re sharing a private secret. Great. That better not be in the headlines tomorrow.

I escort Macey back to my apartment, both of us quiet on the walk.

When we reach the club, Crave is in full swing, and I keep my hand at Macey’s lower back as we maneuver our way through the crowded club. Sex and money are in the air, and normally I’d feel jovial, and probably sit down at the bar for a while to see if anyone interesting caught my eye. Tonight, I shoot scowls at the men openly admiring Macey. I can’t wait to get upstairs. And lock the goddamn door.

When we get inside, I turn on the lights and head for the kitchen. “I’m going to get a Scotch,” I call over my shoulder. “Would you like one?”

Macey slams the door.

What the hell? “Is that a no to the Scotch, sweetheart?”

“Are you serious right now?” She storms into the kitchen and squares off with me, anger slashed across her pretty features.

“About?”

“That’s it? The night’s over?”

I swallow to avoid revealing the smile playing at my lips. She’s angry about earlier and wants to continue playing. Perfect.

Taking a step closer, I pin her with my gaze. “I’m not your boyfriend, and I’m not your fuck friend. I’m your Dom. We’ll play on my terms, in a private room I’ll reserve for us in my club. Not before then. Do you understand me?” I finish pouring my measure of Scotch and wait.

She huffs out a frustrated breath. I think she’s going to argue, but instead she stomps from the kitchen, calling out an exaggerated, “Fine,” over her shoulder. When she heads straight for my bedroom, curiosity takes over and I immediately follow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I find her in my closet, down on her knees and rummaging through a black duffel bag that just happens to hold all my sex toys. Apparently she did see this when she cleaned up.

“Ah, here we go.” Her fingers close around a generously sized flesh-colored vibrating dildo. “You won’t do the job? Well, I have a feeling this baby will.” She waves it in the air like she’s found the damn golden ticket. Then she rises to her feet and smiles sweetly at me.

For the love of God, this woman does not fight fair. She never has. “Where do you think you’re going with that?”

“Probably my bed, then the shower.” A line creases her forehead. “Do you have spare batteries for this thing? It might be a long night.”

“No way. Not happening. Give me the toy, Macey.” I reach out a hand, my voice as stern as the set of my jaw, my fingers barely avoiding crushing the crystal tumbler in my other hand.

A slow smile uncurls on her mouth. “Why, Reece Jackson, are you jealous?” She eyes the toy in her hand and then lets her gaze slip seductively down to the crotch of my pants.

If she really thinks that toy’s size has me feeling insecure, she’s insane. Certifiably. “You really don’t remember, do you?” Now I’m the one smiling. She’ll be in for a pleasant surprise later.

“I remember everything. I remember how you always made me keep my underwear on, and that I never actually saw you”—her gaze flicks downward—”down there. I only felt you with my hand, and since I had nothing to base it on, I assumed all guys were like that.”

“Well, in that case, you’ll be sorely disappointed with this toy.” I snatch the dildo from her hand and toss it back in the open bag.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, planting a hand on her hip. “You left me hanging at the restaurant.”

“And you will stay like that until I say so.”

“You can’t be serious. I’m not allowed to masturbate?”

I shake my head. Unless she wants to perform a private show for me, no. “No touching yourself, no toys, and definitely no other men, until I say.” I take her hand. “Come on, I’ll show you how to drink Scotch.”

“Reece, stop.” Her voice makes me pause on my way from the closet.

I face her and place my finger against her plump lower lip. “You’re trying to top from the bottom, and the more you fight this, the longer it’ll take. Give up control. Go with it, okay?”

I’m not going to explain every small detail to her. Now that we covered how this works, I need some time to properly set up a scene. I won’t rush this. I’ve been waiting six years.

“Fine,” she says, her voice small.

She follows me into the living room and we sit down on the sofa, side by side. It’s not lost on me that we’re alone in my apartment. We could be fucking each other’s brains out right now. I have a drawer full of condoms, and God knows, she’s willing.

But I know myself better now than I did six years ago. I need to keep the control in this situation, separate the sex from the emotion. And the only way I know to do that is through carefully crafting a scene and performing within its parameters. And that takes planning and preparation.

I wanted to give her the world at one time, and I would have. Now I'm questioning my decision to share three sessions with her.

“Good things come to little girls who wait,” I murmur, tucking a stray lock of chestnut-colored hair behind her ear.

“You’re a confusing man,” she says, blinking those stunning baby blues up at me.

“For good reason, my pet. Trust me.”

“I do,” she says without hesitation.

Ignoring the little pang I feel in my chest, I continue. “Now, I know you drink whiskey, but what about Scotch?”

“What’s the difference?” she asks, leaning closer and watching me swirl the amber-colored liquor in my glass.

“I’ll show you. Drinking Scotch is like having a one-night stand with a grizzly bear. If you’re not careful, you’ll regret it in the morning.”