Unforgettable You (7 page)

I break away and look down into her face. “God, sub, your pussy’s like heaven on earth. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” A giggle drifts from her lips and then she kisses me, just as ferociously as I had her.

This is going quite well. Quite well indeed.

I repeat this whole process about eight times before my lips just brush hers and I tell her, “This is it. I want you to come with me. I’ll hold off until you do, okay?” I feel like an explorer about to plant a flag on the top of the mountain he’s just scaled, a claiming of the peak, and I feel her tense all over. About ten strokes in, I hear her voice escalate as she says, “Oh. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Oh damn, oh god. Oh god, oh, oh, oh, OHHHHHH!!!” and she clamps down around my shaft – hard – as her hips thrust toward my pelvis. And that’s it for me. On my final mission, I pump into her forcefully as my balls tighten and, in just a few seconds, I feel everything I have unload through the slit in the tip of my dick and fill my condom.

I don’t want to pull out of her. Ever. I want to stay here, buried inside her, soaking in her heat, holding her softness against me. Once we’ve rolled to our sides, I just wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head. “Do all Doms treat their subs this well, Sir?”

This is that moment, the one where I decide if I want to be totally honest with this woman or just treat her like any other sub and hope something comes of it. And I hope the decision I make is the right one when I say, “No. Only if they care about them.” I pull back so I can see her face, and what’s written on it makes my heart flutter in my chest. “And I do care about you, Sheila. I want to see you satisfied, and I want to be satisfied too, but I’d die before I’d hurt you.”

A tiny smile tugs the corner of her lips upward. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“A solid Dom/sub relationship is built on trust and communication. I can’t be anything but honest with you or that’s not accomplished.” I follow that with, “If all relationships were built like a Dom/sub relationship, more couples would stay together.”

She purses her lips and nods. “That’s certainly true.” I can practically see the gears turning, and then she adds, “I haven’t lied to you about anything, Sir. Everything I’ve told you is one hundred percent true. And I’ll never lie to you about anything, Steffen. You can count on that.” At the sound of my name, my heart gives a little leap and I feel the greatest measure of hope that I have in a while.

“And I haven’t lied to you about anything either, baby. I take this stuff seriously, and I don’t mean just BDSM. I take relationships seriously. I have a lot of casual friends and acquaintances, but very few good, close friends. And I’d like to think that’s what we’re becoming.”

“Me too, Sir. Me too.” As she sighs and curls into my chest within the snugness of my arms, I hope she never finds out that I haven’t entered into the sin of commission, just the sin of omission.

I haven’t lied. I just haven’t told the entire truth.

“Hey, babe, I think we probably need to get out of here.” I’ve looked at my watch and we’ve been lying here for about an hour. “Want me to get dressed and get out of here so you can have some privacy?”

She screws up her face. “Why? We just had sex for an hour and a half. You’ve seen everything there is to see. I’m certainly okay with you watching me dress.”

That prompts me to say, “You know, you’re one of the easiest people to be around that I think I’ve ever met.”

When she smiles and her face lights up, I feel like I’ve won the lottery. “You know, that’s one of the nicest things anyone’s said to me in a long, long time. Thanks for that.”

“Well, it’s true. You’re a super-nice person. You must have a lot of friends.”

Her face saddens. “Not so many. After what happened, it’s hard to trust people.” She’s sitting up on the bed with the sheet pulled up and over her knees, and I reach over and take her hand as I lie there. I nod before I speak.

“Yeah. I can understand that. I hope I can convince you that you can trust me.” Should I? Yep – I’m going to step out there. “You know, Sheila, it feels like maybe, I don’t know, do you get the feeling that maybe we have something going on here that’s worth exploring?”

My heart almost explodes when she nods. “Yeah. I think we might.” Before I can say anything else, she adds, “Do you want to try? See where it goes?”

And there it is. My chance. I refuse to blow it. “Absolutely. So how about we start here: As long as we’re working together as Dom and sub, I’ll commit to not working with another sub. What do you think?”

I get a smile from that. “Yeah! I think that’s good.” Then she giggles. “I’m a little too shy to work with anyone else anyway. But I’m comfortable with you. You’ve been so, um, considerate. And patient. You’re the first guy I’ve ever had sex with who seemed to actually be concerned about what I was getting out of it, not just using me as a big masturbator.”

That makes me laugh. “Nope! I’m sure not going to do that! And I
am
concerned with your satisfaction, more so than with my own. You come first.” Now I’m starting to feel bold, and I think about what Clint said. “So . . . would you like to maybe have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

Her eyes go wide. “You mean, like a date?”

I can feel my forehead wrinkling. “Yeah, like a date.” Her next question surprises me.

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

“What rules?”

“You know, the BDSM rules or something, I don’t know.”

Oh, how precious. She is absolutely the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “The BDSM rules are the rules
we
make as a partnership. If we don’t want a particular rule, we just don’t make it. And no, Sheila, there are no rules against us having some kind of relationship. Remember what I told you: People enter into these agreements because they just want to be loved?” She nods. “Most people enter into a BDSM contract because they either love each other or they’re capable of meeting each other’s needs and want to do just that. And that, along with respect, are in their own ways love.”

She nods. “True.”

“So. Date? Dinner? Maybe a walk down to the pier?”

“Sure! What time?”

“Six?”

“That’s good.” She starts gathering up her clothes.

“And by the way, I don’t even have your phone number.”

She’s drawing on her bra and I hate to see those gorgeous nipples disappear behind that fabric. “Oh, yeah! So let’s get our phones out before we leave and exchange them. And you’ll need my address to pick me up.”

“That I will.” Now I’m happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. Clint was right. I think this is a good idea. I’m having to suppress the desire to squeal like a little girl.

Tomorrow night, I’ve got a date.

I don’t know where we’re going. What should I wear?

The text surprises me a little, but it makes me smile too.

Reservations at Treadway’s, so dressy casual. BTW, can’t wait to see you.

I wait for a few minutes. Too strong? Then I smile.

Can’t wait to see you too.

Ah. That’s better.

I get home from work and scurry around to change and get ready to go. I don’t think anyone can appreciate the position I’m in. As a regional manager, I’ve got eight branch banks under me. My office is in the biggest one. Within this system, we’ve got over one hundred employees, full-time and part-time, and about ninety-two percent of them are women. That means out of all of the women I know, about ninety-nine percent of them are involved in my business somehow, and I don’t date within that pool. At all. Bad idea. That leaves me with pretty much no one except subs at the club and, up to this point, I’ve pretty well avoided that.

But Sheila’s different. She’s a friend of a friend, so that removes the work dimension. And I’m trying to handle this very carefully because I certainly don’t want to lose Clint and Trish as friends. But I can’t ignore the fact that I’m overwhelmingly attracted to this woman. If this goes nowhere, I’ll be very disappointed.

Windswept Florists is right on my way, and I stop to pick up some colorful flowers that I think she’ll like. I also ask for a single rose, and I leave it in its box in the back of the car so I can give it to them at the restaurant to bring to the table.

It’s high school all over again when I ring her doorbell. My hands are sweating and my heart is racing. My first thought is,
Damn, Cothran, you’ve been out of the game too long
. But when she opens that door, I feel like my timing is just right.

She’s got on this dress that hugs every curve and a pair of the sexiest shoes I’ve ever seen. The dress has this neckline that, I don’t know what you call it, hell, I’m a guy, but it really, really shows off those amazing tits. And the shoes are sky-high and zip up the top like little short boots or something, but with designs cut out of them. Too, too hot. She’s got her hair put up, and little tendrils are dripping from it in the back. My mind immediately goes back to last night and how she felt under me, and I’m fighting an erection the size of a loaf of French bread. “Well, well, well, aren’t you beautiful?” is all I manage to squeak out.

“You clean up pretty good yourself. Although I think I like your birthday suit a lot better,” she quips, and I want to strip off right there, knock her to the floor, and crawl up into her like a turtle in its shell.

“Well, thanks, but that’s kind of apples and oranges if it applies to you. They don’t make clothes that heavenly.” She blushes. So I’ve won that round!
Attaboy, Cothran!
I pull the flowers out from behind me and when she sees them, I can see her soften even more.

“Oh, god, Sir, they’re beautiful! Come on in.” She holds the door open and I’m pleasantly surprised when I step inside. Tending to the flowers in the kitchen, her absence gives me a chance to look around. The house is lovely, nice contemporary colors and comfortable furniture, so different from my bachelor pad style, and it makes me want to grab the throw over the big double chair and sit in front of her fireplace with her in my lap. Snuggling. Popcorn in a bowl. An ice-cold Stella. Robert Plant or Bad Company playing softly in the background. Oh, god, I’ve got it bad.

“Sheila?”

“Yeah?”

“Tonight, it’s Steffen. We’re just a guy and a girl on a date. Is that okay?” I ask, fingers invisibly crossed.

I have to admit, I’m totally unprepared for the smile she gives me when she turns. It’s like she’s lit up from the inside and it utterly blows me away. “I’d like that very much.” Crossing the room toward me, she walks straight up to me and waits. It takes me a minute, and then I realize,
Damn, Cothran, it’s HAS been too long since you’ve dated, obviously
. I take her hands, pull her to me, wrap my arms around her waist, and kiss her.

That’s what she was waiting for. She coos into my mouth, and I cover her lips with mine, press them open with my tongue, and take a good, long drink of her, heart pounding and knees weak. If this is any indication of what the rest of the evening is going to be like, I’m a goner for sure. When I pull back, she follows me, nips my bottom lip, and then grins up at me. “Wow. That was delicious. Can we do that again?”

I grin back. “If we do it very many more times, we’re going to be late for our reservations. But there’s always after dinner.”

“Why, yes, there is!” She picks up her bag and says, “Ready?”

Oh, hell yeah. I’m ready. I can’t wait to see where this night goes.

“S
o what’s good here?” Sheila’s looking over the menu like a detective searching for clues in a murder case.

“Well, their specialty is their broiled sea bass. It’s supposed to be wonderful, but I usually opt for a steak.”

She laughs. “Oh, so you’re one of
those
guys?”

“Which guys would those be?” I ask her through my grin.

“The ones who want red meat. One of those manly men.” She fakes pumping up her bicep and bursts into laughter.

“Just wait. You’ll see. So what do you like?”

“Um, just about any kind of vegetable. And I like chicken a lot.”

“That’s easy. They have some chicken kabobs that are out of this world. And that would take care of your vegetables too. How’s that sound?”