More often than not, Nicola and Eli switched roles, depending on potential clientele. If the parents or event planners were running the show, Nicola handled them. If it was a situation involving the bride as Eli just witnessed moments earlier, it was his duty. It was during those times Eli wondered if his mother was punishing him for his childhood and teenage sins.
He walked back downstairs and was immediately graced with a different vibe. Gone was the tension. Replaced was the relaxation and smiles. His mother was on to something with the chamomile tea and tea cakes. “How are you ladies doing? Enjoying yourselves?”
The bride wiped her mouth with a napkin. “These are so delicious! Do you do catering as well?”
“Oh no, but we do have a list in case you need them.” Eli once again flashed his panty-dropping smile and sat down at the table with the bridal party. “So let’s talk flowers.”
An hour and much negotiation later, Eli and the bride came to a conclusion on her flowers. As suspected, she favored the peonies, roses and hydrangeas. The deal was sealed when he offered the free rose petals and crown for the flower girl. The bride had softened a great deal and seemed much more relaxed leaving the shop than she was when she entered.
The mother of the bride spoke to Eli privately, profusely thanking him for his patience with her daughter. One of the bride’s friends also spoke to Eli privately, slipping her number on a business card and offering to discuss other deals later. “Call me anytime,” she whispered in his ear.
Eli stood in the middle of the shop and watched the cars leave the parking lot. He breathed a sigh of relief and began to clean up the flowers. He loved his job and felt like he was giving back to the community. But for every frazzled bride he dealt with, there was always the horny single best friend trying to ride his jock.
Staying faithful wasn’t hard.
“Okay, I’m done here,” Eli instructed to the other girls working the shop, “everything should be cool for the rest of the day. Do I need stick around for anything?”
“Actually, you do!” Maria exclaimed. She was a young Puerto Rican woman in her twenties. She had shoulder-length auburn hair and a smile that seemed to compete with the sun. The rest of the Madre’s staff appeared from behind her and a couple were carrying a big cake. “Happy Birthday, Boss!”
Joey and the staff gathered around Eli and serenaded him with Happy Birthday. It was especially embarrassing to Eli since he didn’t like to make a big deal about his birthday. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to celebrate it because he did. He just preferred to be quiet about it.
He made a wish and blew out the candles. When he was younger, Eli would wish for money, jewelry, or even girls that he was enamored with. He believed in wishes because somehow between fate and God, he was always granted them. This year he wished for something different.
I wish to see if there’s more out there for me.
****
After a quiet dinner with his wife and son, Eli dropped his son at his mother’s home and went back home. He was watching SportsCenter in the living room when the TV suddenly turned off. “Oh Mr. President?” A sultry voice echoed in the living room. “I heard it was your birthday, Mr. President.”
Eli got comfortable on the sofa and loosened his tie a little. Now he understood the need for the suit and tie get-up his wife insisted on. He took a sip of his cognac and patiently waited for his wife’s appearance. Despite being together since their teenage years, the sex was still hot like it was back then. The main difference was Eli could last a lot longer in bed than his teenager self.
Practice makes perfect
, he smiled to himself.
“Happy Birthday to you…Happy Birthday to you…Happy Birthday, Mr President,” Faith D’Amato appeared in the hallway wearing a similar Marilyn Monroe ensemble and straddled her husband. “Happy Birthday to you.” She softly kissed him.
“I really love birthdays.” Eli smiled. “In fact, this is my favorite way to celebrate them.”
“I bet it is,” Faith winked, the amber in her brown eyes sparkling. “Whatever you want tonight, it’s on the menu.”
“Ooh…birthday sex,” Eli smiled. His hands caressed Faith’s bare arms while his cock twitched in his slacks. “I can have whatever I want?”
“You can have all three holes,” Faith said slowly, enunciating every word.
A low moan was lodged in Eli’s throat as he adjusted his position on the couch. Faith leaned in closer to him and softly kissed her husband’s neck, knowing that his spot. “What is that you want, Daddy?”
Eli flipped Faith onto her back and nestled in between her legs. He planted a series of haste kisses on her neck as she opened her thighs more to accommodate him. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to be speaking Greek,” he huskily moaned.
“Greek, huh?” Faith moaned. “That’s a new one.”
Eli sat back on his knees and began to undo his dress shirt before Faith stopped him. “It’s your birthday, Daddy. It’s time for me to do the work.” She motioned for him to get up and grabbed his hand. She led him to their bedroom and stripped his clothing. Eli worked out six days a week, insane about his fitness and wanting to keep up with his equally-fit brothers.
It didn’t bother Faith at all. Her fingers lightly danced all over her husband’s shredded body. Strong, muscular legs lead up to an impressive shaft and ripped abs. His pecs were Faith’s favorite body part, loving to flick her tongue over the brown nips.
She pushed Eli on to the bed and removed her white halter dress. She started to remove the blonde wig when Eli stopped her. “No,” he winked at her, “leave the wig and the shoes on.”
Faith licked her lips and softly bit her lip. After being with Eli for so long – together for 16, married for four – the passion and excitement in the bedroom seemed to get better over time. He would give her a simple look or gesture to let her know he meant business and he was going to give it to her any way she could handle.
She removed her bra and thong underwear, discarding them to the side and climbed on the bed. She reached over and grabbed a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and secured Eli to the bed. “Just making sure you’re not going anywhere tonight,” she whispered in his ear.
“You’re killing me, Faye,” he moaned.
“Watch me work,” she winked at him. She slid her body down his, kissing his neck while her hands ran up and down his body, causing Eli to release several deep breaths in both anticipation and frustration. She knew when her hands wandered towards his shaft but didn’t touch, it did a number on him. “Daddy likes that?”
“Shit, Faye…” Eli hissed.
“Shhh…you keep talking like that and I’m going to get the gag ball out,” she warned him. She began kissing her husband’s body again, focusing on his nipples. A free hand worked the right one as she nibbled on the left. From there, she planted a trail of kisses down his mid-section and finally to the beginning of his pelvic bone. When she reached his shaft, it was bouncing in anticipation.
##### End of Snippet – Where I Wanna Be will be out soon.
Exclusive S&M IV Sneak Peek (unedited):
Caprina
She was hypnotized by what she saw. Everything in meticulous detail was splayed across the screen, for the world to see. Her eating habits, her sleeping habits, and her drug habits. Everything.
She saw the news vans outside of her palatial estate and wondered how they got there so quickly. They seemed to have grown rapidly within the hour. At first it was only one or two. As she stood hidden behind a curtain, she counted ten. Those were the ones she could see. Who knew how many more there were.
The male prostitute sold his story to the highest bidder and he had been doing press all damn week, even getting a high-powered celebrity attorney to represent him. The same loud-mouth bitch that represented Caprina during her last fallout was not representing the enemy. She shook her head at her stupidity. Money and fame take no sides.
Pictures upon pictures flashed on the screen of her bathroom and the private chest where she kept the drugs. Another picture of her BDSM toys – floggers, cock and ball apparatus, ball gags – were spread out on the bed. But the most damaging picture, the one that made Caprina not want to answer the phone and go somewhere far – very, very far – was the closet.
She was enraged when she saw that particular space had been encroached upon by those fucking nitwit assistants. She knew those whores were up to something when they were extra friendly to Scott at the shoot and she fired them immediately. She was right on her assumption. Now everyone knew her secret. Everyone knew how much she still loved him. Everyone knew how much she was obsessed by him.
Every gossip blog was reporting it. Every celebrity saw it. Every news channel had the same story. Suddenly, entertainment reporters were psychologists. People Caprina had not been in contact with for years, were giving their diagnosis on her state of mind and the little quirks she used to do that somehow made her insane.
Shit. She was in deep trouble. She may lose her judging gig but she didn’t care about that. The rest of the world might think she was some crazed druggie, but she didn’t care about that, either. She didn’t care about what they thought. She didn’t give a damn really.
But she definitely cared about what
he
thought and she knew it was already too late. If he didn’t watch the news, she knew someone had already told him. His name was once again reconnected with hers, but not in a manner that would benefit them both. If he had distaste for her before, he would really go through the roof when he saw what was everywhere. It was only a matter of time before the electronic versions turned into print copies.
Caprina swallowed her pride. It was time to come clean. It was time to get real. She had so much at stake and she needed to quiet all those voices. She still remembered his number after all this time and never once thought it would be her calling him. But he had a lot of power and influence. He and his team could make this go away.
After a few seconds, the other line picked up. “Carus,” Dimtri purred over the phone, “it seems like you’re in a bit of trouble, yes?”
*****
Scott
“Pack a few days’ worth of clothing and go somewhere. I don’t care where. But don’t come home.”
“My dog,” he replied, “what about my dog?”
“Take the dog with you.”
“When will it be safe for me to return?”
“When I tell you. You have T-90 minutes. Go.” The line went dead.
He quickly packed up his belongings and placed a call to his best friend, asking if he could crash for a week or so. Once that was handled, he forwarded all home calls to his cell and arranged for a temporary post office box. He was then on his way.
She told him to trust Her and he did. But he wondered if trusting Her meant he would be embarrassed all over again, just like he was some eight years prior. He found himself in his best friend’s home office, his eyes fixated on the flat-screen television before him, wondering what in the fuck was going through Sanora’s head. “You know, Mistress, you told me to trust you but this shit right here,” Scott Reed muttered under his breath as he took another sip of whiskey and shook his head, “this shit right here.”
He was going over the contract for his part-ownership in EMK when he received a frantic call from his mother. “Please turn on the news! Right now!” Deborah Reed practically screamed at him over the phone.
Scott watched every news channel cover Caprina’s fall from grace. He knew Caprina still wanted him and was going to do whatever it took to make sure he was hers once again. Though his Mistress had warned him what Caprina was capable of by threatening to harm Mariana, Scott could not fathom that Caprina was this fucking insane. A closet shrine? A male prostitute named Scott? Who does that?
Her crazy ass.
And so it began, a competition between various news agencies and reporters, trying to get Scott’s take on what had happened. He found that some were even camped out at his work. Scott watched as news vans pulled up to his home and patiently wait for him to make an appearance. They were gracious enough to not block his driveway but they had already started to camp outside his home. He clearly understood why he had to leave suddenly; there was no way he would’ve been able to go anywhere in peace.
That was a week ago. After all those years, Scott had to learn to trust his Mistress. She knew him better than he did.
The media’s frantic nature to see him eventually died down. Requests for interviews stopped coming and his neighbors rallied behind him, refusing to answer any questions about Scott to the press. Soon, one by one, all of the news vans disappeared from the neighborhood when there was a non-story. He did silently admit, though, he was seriously entertaining an offer by Barbara Walters. He kind of liked that old hag.
“Enough of that bullshit,” Jeff Miller turned off the TV. He turned his phone on silent when the news agencies began to call. His number was unlisted and yet somehow, they still found him. He beefed up security at all of his businesses and gave explicit instructions to his security team that unless someone had an appointment with him, they were to be turned away on the spot.
Another scandal, another day. It was a similar situation he went through eight years ago, except the heat wasn’t on Scott so much. Still, Jeff didn’t like what was happening with his best friend. Scott didn’t get into the specifics on why he had to break up with Mariana, but Jeff knew Caprina played a role in it. Whenever Jeff and Scott met for lunch, Caprina texted Scott to see what he was up to. She just
happened
to be in the neighborhood one evening when all of the guys were playing poker. And then that one time she showed up unannounced wearing nothing but a rain coat and some lingerie…