I’ll Be Home For Christmas

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“Fabulous party, Kat! Thanks so much for inviting us. You really do know how to put on a dinner. Such a shame David couldn’t be here.”

Kathleen smiled and said good night to the last of her guests, wishing them a safe drive home through the snow. As soon as the door was shut, her smile disappeared. She turned back with a sigh to look over the mess of her living room and kitchen. Oh well, she thought, these dishes won’t clean themselves, so might as well get started.

Would it have been better if David had made it home? She wasn’t sure. Things had been a little tense between them before he left for this latest business trip, but they had always managed to hide such things behind an easy facade of marital bliss in front of guests before. Still, he should have been there, but the snow was coming down thick and who knew what the airport was like. She let the post-party melancholy wash over her, almost relieved to not have to be happy and cheerful for others any longer.

Kathleen started the first load in the dishwasher and began rinsing the remainder when the musical chime of the telephone interrupted her. David’s cellphone. His flight must have finally landed.

“Hey. Where are you? Everything ok?”

“Yeah. We got diverted to Grand Rapids. The airline offered everyone a hotel room.”

“Oh.” So he wasn’t coming home tonight. Kathleen wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She should have been disappointed, but her lack of disappointment was what disappointed her more.

“So how was the party? Sorry I missed it.”

“It was good. The Johnsons showed up after all.”

David laughed over the poor connection. Weather must have been interfering with his signal.

“Did they put on their usual show? Emily get drunk and flirt outrageously in front of Mike?”

In fact, Emily Johnson had done just that, as Kathleen had known she would. The previous year Emily had draped herself all over David at the party, whispering things into his ear, putting her hand on his hip, pushing her breast against his arm. Her husband Mike had silently steamed, drinking more and more while watching his wife with a frown, and Kathleen briefly entertained the idea of causing her own diversion. David had looked uncomfortable, but his erection had been pretty obvious through his slacks. This year had been no different, except instead of David, Emily picked on someone else. Kathleen had hoped they wouldn’t actually come, but they did.

“You know she did.” Kathleen hoped the bitterness wasn’t obvious in her voice. Really, she didn’t know why still threw these Christmas Eve parties, they just made her feel dejected, but everyone expected it of her.

“Hey. Kat. Really, I’m sorry I couldn’t be home. I know these things are draining for you.”

“Really, David? You’re not home for Christmas Eve; are you even going to be home for Christmas day? Did you have to wait ’til the last minute to fly home? Couldn’t you have come a day earlier?”

“Kat. Honey, I’m sorry about that.”

Kathleen felt awful. She knew it wasn’t David’s fault he’d had to go on this trip, and the client demanded he be there until the last minute. He wasn’t responsible for the weather or flight delays, but she just couldn’t help herself, taking her frustration out on her husband.

“I’m sorry, David. I know that was uncalled for. I’m just frustrated.”

“I know. I understand. Maybe I have a way to make it up to you.”

Was that a hint of something sly in his voice? What was he planning?

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me what you’re doing right now.”

“I’m doing the dishes and cleaning up, what else would I be doing?”

“Uh huh. Are you wearing your cocktail dress? The slinky little black number?”

Kathleen took a breath and let some of her frustration ebb away. It really was one of her favorite dresses, and now she remembered that David bought it for her last year.

“I am.”

“You know I’ve always thought you incredibly sexy in that dress.”

She smiled. “Yeah, well, right now it’s covered up with a kitchen apron so I don’t splash dirty, soapy water on it.”

“Wouldn’t it be even safer to take the dress off, and just wear the apron?”

“David! What, feeling a little lonely in your hotel room, are you?” Kathleen giggled.

“Just saying. It would be a shame to stain the dress. You’ve still got the fire going, right? It’s not cold? So why not go hang up the dress, nice and neat, and not take any chances?”

Despite herself, Kathleen felt a small tickle of arousal at his suggestion. Why not? Who was going to see, anyway, and it would make finishing the dishes more interesting to play along. She cradled the cordless phone against her shoulder and walked out into the living room, where indeed the fire still roared bright and warm, toasting the room.

“Ok. Ok, you win. Hold on a sec, I’m going to put the phone down a moment.”

She imagined she could hear his smile of satisfaction through the call. Now she felt silly about the idea, and considered just telling him she was removing the dress but not really doing it. After all, how would he know?

Then she looked at the photo of the two of them, together, on the mantel above the fire. They had taken that picture — was it a selfie? or a dualie? with both of them in it? — four years earlier while on a cruise in the Caribbean, and they both looked so happy in it. It had been Christmas then, too, except Christmas in Tortola was an entirely different affair from Christmas in Chicago. She had been happy then, she remembered. Very happy. David had made her feel so treasured, loved, and desired. She looked good in the photo, as did he — he was a very handsome man, was it his fault that drunken bitch Emily made a move on him? — and she realized that he made her feel sexy.

Kathleen shucked off the apron, then slinked out of the black dress. She was momentarily self-conscious, standing before the fire in nothing but heels, hold-ups, and panties. She carefully draped the dress over the back of a chair, then put the apron back on. Her nipples pebbled at the slightly rough texture of the apron brushing against them, and she began to feel a little naughty and, yes, sexy, doing this, even if there was no one to see. She picked up the phone.

“Ok. I did it.”

“Panties too, darling. I want you naked under that apron. You can leave your shoes and stockings on, if you’re wearing them.”

Kathleen blushed, which was silly because she was alone.

“David! I don’t know what’s come over you.” She thumbed her panties over her hips and let them fall to her ankles, then stepped out of them and bent down to pick them up and put them on the chair beside the dress. “There. I’m essentially naked, only the apron to cover me, and you know it doesn’t cover much.”

“Good thing you aren’t cooking with hot oil, then, eh, darling? Are you back in the kitchen now?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

“Well, I’m washing dishes, of course. I mean, most of them are in the dishwasher, but I’m rinsing off the extras.”

“Uh huh. Are you bending over the sink?”

Kathleen blushed again. How could he make such an innocuous thing feel so wicked?

“Um… yes. A little bit.”

“Bend over more. Make sure that pert little bottom of yours sticks out while you rinse those dishes.”

Kathleen couldn’t quite believe how turned on she was. Heat pooled in her belly and between her legs and her breathing deepened. She ran the tap to rinse away scraps and added the plate to the pile.

“Do you have much more to do?”

“I’m just about finished.”

“Mmm, yes, you are, aren’t you?”

Kathleen squirmed, not entirely sure about that, but feeling delightfully naughty from the simple act of washing dishes in the nude.

“Now, darling, I want you to touch yourself.”

“Touch myself?”

“That’s right. You know what I mean. And tell me how it makes you feel.”

She couldn’t quite believe she was doing this, but she played along, reaching under the apron to cup her own breasts, enjoying the weight of them in her hands, and taking the nipples between thumb and forefinger.

“You aren’t talking to me, darling. What are you doing?”

“I… I’m touching my breasts.”

“You know you have the most gorgeous tits, don’t you? I’ve always loved them. Now put a hand between your legs and touch yourself there.”

“David…”

“For the sake of a stranded traveler?”

Kathleen took another deep breath, then did as he asked. She wasn’t very surprised to find herself incredibly wet. Why did this turn her on so much? They had never done phone sex before, but she couldn’t deny the arousal she felt from hearing David’s voice and knowing he was hearing her. She wondered what he was doing on his end of the phone.

“Are you wet, my love?”

“Yes.”

“You do know I love you, right?”

She did. He did love her, and she did know that. And she loved him, too. Somehow they had allowed themselves to forget this all-important fact, but it was still true.

“Yes, David. I do know. And I love you, too.”

“So you miss me right now?”

“Oh, David! You’re getting me all worked up over here, when you’re off in another city, hours away, with a snowstorm between us. Is this a special kind of cruelty?” She said that with a strained bit of laughter, then moaned very softly into the phone while continuing to touch herself. “David, I wish you were home. Right now.”

“I’ve sent you a gift.”

“A gift? How could you send me a gift? You just got off a plane in another city from where you’re supposed to be, another city from me.”

“I arranged for a special delivery. Open the front door.”

“What? I can’t do that! I’m naked!”

“No one will see, my love. Do this for me. Trust me. It’s waiting for you on the front porch. Just open the door.”

Kathleen had serious doubts now, but it was after Midnight, after all. David was right. Who would see? She would be quick, she wouldn’t actually step outside, just open the door and quickly grab whatever it was.

“Ok. You’re unbelievable, you know. I can’t imagine how you arranged a special delivery late at night on Christmas Eve in a snowstorm while stranded away from home.”

“I have my ways.”

She almost heard the smirk in his voice. She wondered if the gift was going to be something naughty, a sex toy or something of that sort. That would explain his mood and the phone call. She went to the door and peeked through the peephole. No one was there, of course, and the porch light was already out after the last guest had left, much earlier.

“All right, I’m opening the door. If I get mugged, it’ll be your fault!”

Kathleen unlatched the deadbolt and pulled the door inward. She was confused; there was nothing on the porch.

“There’s nothing here. It didn’t arrive. I hope you didn’t pay extra for this delivery.”

“Ah, but it did arrive, my love.”

David stepped into view from beside the doorway, cellphone to his ear, snowflakes covering the shoulders of his overcoat and sticking to his hair. Kathleen was so surprised she nearly dropped the handset. He grinned at her, taking her in from top to bottom, barely concealed behind the apron, then looked straight into her eyes and spoke into the phone again, so she heard his voice live and a half-second later as an echo through the handset.

“Merry Christmas, Kat. I love you.”

wicked_wednesday

[I have entered this story into Marie Rebelle’s “Wicked Wednesday” #134 for “Christmas 2014.” Click the button and be sure to read all the other entries!]

Switch: Second Chances (continued)

[This is the third excerpt from Switch. If you haven’t been following along, I recommend reading the earlier segments: In Which We Meet Olivia and Say Goodbye to Paul and Second Chances.]

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Paul still looked a little uncertain, but he didn’t think about it too long. He started pulling off his shirt, perhaps a little too eagerly, as he got himself stuck with his arms bound up in it behind his back. For a moment I thought of keeping him there, like that, and I had a brief frisson of excitement race through me, from a point between my breasts right down between my legs. The moment passed, however, and I just giggled a bit, turning away and climbing up onto the bed. I reached over to the nightstand and pulled out the handcuffs.

Paul’s eyes fairly goggled when he saw them, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Um, what’s up with those?”

I grinned over my shoulder at him as I threaded them through the slats in the headboard.

“An idea I had. Come on.”

He seemed really uncertain about it all, as I put first one wrist in a cuff, snapping it closed, and then my other. When that second one clicked into place, it passed quickly through my mind, What the hell am I doing? I didn’t let that stop me, however. Facing him again over my shoulder, my upturned ass in the air as I kneeled on the bed, resting my elbows on the pillows, I smiled, not at all as sure of myself as I tried to sound.

“I want you to spank me.”

Poor Paul. Now he really had that deer in headlights look, his shirt hanging from one wrist, his fly unzipped, standing there in shock.

“Spank you?”

“Yes, that’s right, I want you to spank me. I told you I wanted to try something different. Come on, it’ll be fun. Anyway, it’s an experiment.”

“I don’t know, Olivia. I mean, what if I hurt you? Are you sure about this?”

I heaved an exasperated sigh.

“Paul, get your ass up here on this bed, and spank me!”

His eyes grew even wider, if that were possible, but he finally got himself fully untangled from his shirt, kicked off his shoes and, still wearing his half-unzipped pants, climbed up onto the bed behind me. I wiggled my bare derriere at him and giggled again, although inside my heart was pounding something fierce and I could feel the heat of a blush spreading across my face and chest. I tugged on the cuffs experimentally, and yes, they held, very securely.

He put a hand on one of my butt-cheeks, and I liked that, so I wiggled again to encourage him.

“What are the handcuffs for? And when did you get those? Did you have those before?”

“I just got them, and I don’t know, it’s just an idea I had. I thought it’d be fun. Now come on, get busy!”

He lifted his hand, hovered over me with it for a moment, then sort of softly whacked me.

“Harder!”

He smacked me again, very slightly harder this time, but still very tentative.

“Did that hurt? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Paul, I’m not a baby, and you barely tapped me. It’s supposed to sting a little, isn’t it? It’s a spanking. Come on, spank me harder.”

“Can’t we just make love like normal?”

I sighed. So far, this experiment was a bust.

“Paul, please, can we just try it?”

He hit me one more time, no harder than before. Nothing. I was not aroused. I wasn’t turned on. This wasn’t working for me.

“I’m sorry, Olivia, I just don’t know. I don’t think this is right.”

He climbed off the bed and stood there, looking at me. Obviously it wasn’t working for him, either. He zipped up his fly, stepped into his shoes, and picked up his shirt.

“I don’t think I can do this, Olivia. I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go.”

I stared open-mouthed at him in shock.

“Go? Now?”

“Yeah. Maybe you were right the other night at dinner. I mean about us not being right for each other. Anyway, see you around, perhaps, ok?”

And with that, he walked out of the room.

“Paul!”

I heard the front door shut behind him as he left the apartment.

“Paul, dammit!”

I rattled the cuffs. I looked over at the nightstand, at the closed top drawer. The drawer I’d gotten them from. The drawer where the key sat.

Now what the hell was I going to do?

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Partners and Crime (part 2)

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I kneeled there on Travers’ back, leaning in close to his ear, listening to him breathe, for perhaps longer than was absolutely necessary. My knee wasn’t digging into him that much, on account of the vest under his uniform shirt; it was my grip on his cuffed wrists that really held him down. I noticed a bead of sweat rolling across his temple and sliding down his brow to the roughly carpeted floor beneath his face. No doubt he was getting a little hot under that vest; I was feeling warm myself. Bullet-resistant vests aren’t exactly known for cool and breezy wearing.

All the fight seemed to have gone out of him, which didn’t fit his normal pattern, but I accepted it and pulled back off of him. I stood up, pulling him up with me, keeping a close grip on his upper arm just like I would any perp in cuffs.

I had spent a lot of time with Travers. We had been partners for about six months, which meant for the past six months I had been in his company pretty much more than any other human being. Yet still, we had never stood this close before. Frankly, I had never found him very attractive, despite his definite good looks, because he had always been such an emotional turn-off.

Now, however, something was different. He didn’t look so cocky. In fact, he almost looked vulnerable, though that was probably the shock of having been taken down so unsuspecting. Regardless, it was appealing in an odd sort of way. Perhaps it was the cuffs. Anyone looks vulnerable with their hands cuffed behind their back.

I had made my point. It was time to take off the cuffs and figure out a way to undo the awkwardness. It was time to step away, but I found I didn’t want to, not just yet. I stood by his shoulder, hand on his arm, looking up due to his taller height, and just absorbed the sense of power I felt, having this man, this police officer, my partner, under my control. As long as the cuffs were still on, he was helpless and dependent upon me, and I just soaked that up.

His nostrils widened, his breathing grew deeper and quicker, and still a bead of sweat rolled off his brow. He looked me in the eye, then cast his eyes downward, and in that moment we both knew who would be the alpha in this arrangement from now on. I didn’t want this moment to end, it was so heady.

Just then I heard voices from the hallway outside approaching. Female voices. Apparently I was wrong about who was on shift that afternoon, because in about five seconds Waters and Clark were going to come through the door and find us here, and I wasn’t sure just how I would explain not only why a male officer was in the women’s locker room, but also why he was in cuffs. Travers had heard them too, his head jerking up, turning to face the door.

I didn’t waste time thinking about it. I tugged his arm roughly, causing him to instinctively follow, and pulled him into the showers. Not a moment too soon, either, as Waters and Clark entered the locker room, still chatting about their shift.

“Did you see the look on that goon’s face when I pulled the cuffs? All macho, hey I’m the big guy, and bam! Totally deflated, meek as a puppy.”

Sounded like Waters made a collar today. Good for her!

“Yeah, they’re all spit and bluster until they realize it’s going down, then suddenly shit gets serious and they’re not so tough anymore.”

Clearly they were still on their post-arrest high. I grinned at macho Travers, all meek in my cuffs now. He started to get that look on his face, and I just put a finger to his lips. His eyes snapped right back to mine, his breathing still heavy, but he kept quiet. Once again I saw it — resignation, acceptance, vulnerability — and a surge of… something… washed through me. I felt that old tingle, low in my belly, one I hadn’t felt for a while, and my vest began to feel too tight. Oh hell no, no, but damned if I wasn’t getting aroused.

This was bad news. Travers was my partner. I didn’t even like the man.

I stood there a moment, my finger still to his lips, and he didn’t pull away. He just kept his gaze on mine, a hint of a question, uncertainty, in his eyes, and perhaps a touch of heat, but none of his usual bluster. This wasn’t his male posturing, flirting with the girls. All of that seemed to have dropped away, and what remained was… was that desire I saw in his face? Could he really be turned on by this, being told what to do by me?

Too much introspection, Eileen. I slid my finger down his lips, traced his neck from chin to collarbone, then gripped the material of his uniform shirt and pulled his face down closer to mine. I kissed him, hard, on his lips, unrelenting, claiming. Again I saw surprise, but he didn’t resist. I watched his eyes, gauging his reaction, trying to understand his headspace, but I really didn’t even understand my own. I just enjoyed the kiss, took what I needed from it. His lips parted slightly, opening himself to me, and I tasted mint, and a hint of spice, and I wanted more. That was probably his Pad Thai lunch and a candy from the bowl by the cash register, but it didn’t matter, I drank him in.

Dimly I could still hear Waters and Clark just outside. A locker door clanged, and a part of me wondered if they would feel the need to shower. Just go home, shower at home, I thought, and then I realized I was even more aroused. No, this couldn’t happen! If they came in here right now, both our careers would be jeopardized. But the thrill…

With a gasping breath I broke off the kiss, but I didn’t step away. God, how I hated these vests just now! Travers looked momentarily lost, and I realized just how into that kiss he had been. I searched his eyes, with an ear to what was happening just beyond the door, and then I gripped his arm again and pulled him into a shower stall, closing the door. He didn’t resist at all.

And he was still wearing my cuffs.

<to be continued>

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Umber Dawn

I wake early, without the alarm,
You still slumber between satin sheets.
I slip from the room,
Look out to a still-dark world,
City towers but a shadow;
A hint of light grows beyond.
Purple tones outline distant peaks,
Far pavilions of Kaye’s wonder,
Deep blues fading to star-specked black,
Cold, at peace, not yet disturbed.
The bay fluoresces, brighter than
The sky it reflects, yet darker still.
Captured, rooted to my window,
Helplessly gazing, heart expanding
With slow breaths to take it in.
Burnt orange spreads, a slender line
Whose limits cannot be discerned,
Yet whose end is within my sight.
No division, no visible change,
Yet colors shift before my eyes,
Sea and sky turning bright,
Though above all is dark.
Gulls call out, challenge the day;
I long to join them,
Their raucous company,
But I stay silent,
As you are silent,
Speaking not a word
Of any weight or meaning.
Helios awaits, the day arrives,
Peaks and towers reveal their mystery.
I am greeted, as you never greet me,
By the umber dawn.

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Partners and Crime (part 1)

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“I got this,” I said, as Travers grabbed the perp’s other arm and started muscling him into the station house.

“You sure, McConnell? He’s kind of a big guy.”

I felt the familiar twinge of annoyance but suppressed it in the interests of professionalism. Why did Travers have to keep proving himself to me? Or was it to the others on the squad? Did he really think I couldn’t handle one tall but scrawny pimp in handcuffs whose probable idea of a workout was standing on the street corner watching his girls work the street?

“Yeah, I’m sure. Now go get the paperwork started, would you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded with just a bit of a smirk and dropped his hold on the perp.

I really needed to do something about this attitude. It was bad enough to have my squad mates wonder if I was up to the job of the downtown beat, but I really didn’t need my partner undermining my authority in front of the street punks we dealt with daily. When that happens, someone usually gets hurt, and I can tell you straight up, it wouldn’t be me. If a perp won’t back down because he thinks a female officer can’t handle him or will be intimidated, then things escalate and get dangerous in a hurry, and then it’s up to me to control the situation with whatever means necessary. Yeah, it was time for a little talk with Travers.

I got the perp to the booking desk, where at least Travers had got things started, and before too long we were done and headed to the back of the station for the end of our shift. I knew there wouldn’t likely be any other female officers nearby at this time, so with a quick glance to be sure no one was paying attention, I took a firm grip on Travers’ arm and pulled him into the women’s locker room.

He’s not that small of a guy, and he’s a cop, like me, so this depended on speed and surprise to pull off. That’s one of the benefits of being a woman in a physically demanding job: we know the limits of our strength and use our brains more than our brawn to get things done. The men were always overestimating themselves and getting hurt, straining muscles or their backs. I knew I couldn’t manhandle Travers into the locker room if he dug his heels in, so I had to catch him with his guard down.

It actually went easier than I expected. His mouth opened in surprise and he didn’t resist at all. Then he got that cocky grin on his face, and it didn’t take a degree in criminal psychology to predict what was coming next.

“McConnell, and here I thought you were the Ice Queen, yet all this time you’ve been wanting a piece of a real man.”

Oh, please. Yeah, he was easy on the eyes, but if he really thought I’d fall just for a trim physique with strong muscles and good grooming, he was deluding himself. Though, I had to admit, he really did take good care of himself, and it showed, even if the bulky vests we wore hid most of it. It had been a while…

Snap out of it, Eileen! Task at hand, girl! I pushed those unwelcome thoughts back down where they belonged, and then I pushed Travers against the lockers with a metallic clang, slamming against him, bullet-proof vest to bullet-proof vest. For just a moment I saw shock in his eyes, and a hint of uncertainty, and it emboldened me.

“Listen up, Travers, and listen up good. If I want a real man, I’ll find one. I don’t need that crap here at the station or on the beat. What I do need from you is a little more respect. I’ve been on the force long enough to know my way around, and we’ve been partners long enough for you to know that I carry my own weight. I don’t need you or any other man here to do my job for me, do you understand?”

“Whoa, McConnell, lighten up, I was just being friendly. I thought…”

“Do you understand? It’s a simple question.”

“Hey, babe, why’d you drag me in here, then? If you wanna get rough…”

I’d had enough. Before he could get another word out, I had a leg behind his and levered him around and down to the ground, pulling his arm behind his back as I followed him with a knee against his back. Before he finished gasping out the breath knocked out of him, I had drawn my cuffs and snapped one to his wrist, then I grabbed his other wrist and that was that. He was down and cuffed on the floor. I pushed up on his forearms, forcing his elbows wide, and leaned down close to his ear.

“Don’t you ever ‘hey babe’ me again, Travers, is that clear?”

He was either in shock or winded, because he had a funny look on his face and he only nodded.

“I think it’s time you understood the way things are going to be from now on. I’m not your ‘woman partner,’ I’m not a little girl who needs your help, and I’m not your Ice Queen either. I’m an officer of the law, and a damn good one, and as long as you are working with me… I’m going to call the shots. Is that clear?”

I felt a trickle of perspiration sliding down my skin under the bulky vest, and I was breathing a little more heavily than I should have been for such a quick takedown. I felt something coming off Travers that I couldn’t quite define. Not shock, not anger, but something else. Acquiescence. He wasn’t fighting me. A sense of power surged through me, and for the first time I couldn’t quite believe that I had just done this, taken down and cuffed a fellow officer, my partner. I stayed like that, laying across his back with my lips close to his ear, longer than really necessary to get my message across.

“Is that clear?” I asked again in a low voice directly into his ear. He took a long, deep breath.

“Yes,” he whispered.

This was almost too easy. I should’ve done this a long time before. That quickly, the man had become putty in my hands.

And I liked it.

<to be continued>

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You Are Mine

A tear fell from her eye and slid ever so slowly across the curve of her cheek, pooling in the downturned corner of her mouth. He pulled her into his embrace and kissed the tear away.

“Are you so very disappointed in me?” she asked, gazing up into his eyes, trying to discern his thoughts there.

“Do I seem disappointed?”

She thought about everything that had just happened, turning it over in her mind. She had been so absorbed in her own experience of events, so focused on her own feelings, that she hadn’t really paid attention to how he seemed during it all, what he might be getting from it. She was mostly aware of what he was doing, of how it impacted her — and how those impacts felt — and not so much of how he might be feeling. Now she recalled the intense concentration on his face, the firm yet gentle touch of his other hand, and she realized he had been fully present in the moment, completely focused upon her, while she had selfishly spared thoughts only for herself. A fresh sense of unworthiness and selfishness washed over her, and once again she could not understand his interest in her, despite the evidence of his caring embrace, his soothing touch, his loving kiss. She sniffled softly before replying.

“No. No, you don’t, but I don’t understand why you put up with me. I’m so selfish! You are so good to me, and I don’t do anything for you, and, and… and no wonder I needed this, deserved this, what you just did, when you… I didn’t pay any attention to you! I should have been thinking about you, but all I could think about was what was happening to me, and when your hand… when it would…”

“Hush.” He put a finger to her lips, quieting her, cradling her on his lap. He kissed her brow and slowly her breathing calmed. “You were perfect. You gave me everything I could possibly desire. You lost yourself in the experience, gave yourself over to me completely, and that, my darling, is more beautiful to me than you could imagine.”

Again she found herself lost in his eyes, looking for what he wasn’t saying but finding only honesty there. With a start she realized that she trusted him completely, knew with every fiber of her being that he would always take care of her. She wanted to wrap her arms about him and hold on tight, never let go, but of course that wasn’t possible yet. She lay her head against his chest, curling herself in his lap, and he held her more tightly. She could feel his heart beating strongly beneath her cheek, and she marveled at the power he wielded over her. With a single word he could calm her fears. With a single touch he could inflame her passions. With a single glance he could hold her soul.

She wriggled against him, settling in comfortably, and she felt his heart race within his ribcage. Experimentally, she wiggled again, and again his pulse rate shot up. She smiled to herself, marveling at the power she apparently held over him, too, her doubts evaporating like summer rain steaming under the hot southern sun.

“Careful, pet, or you’re liable to get me started all over again,” he said with a soft chuckle, and that thought only made her want to wriggle more. She turned her face up toward his, and he leaned down to kiss her lips, long, languorous, and slow. Now she really wished she could wrap her fingers in his hair, twining them in its silky black length, caressing the touch of grey just beginning to show at his temples, but she contented herself with inhaling his breath, tasting his mouth, parting her lips to tease the tip of his tongue with her own.

She felt just a twinge of discomfort from her sore bottom, but that reminder only served to ignite further flames within her. The twinge and her reaction didn’t escape his notice, and he responded by taking her mouth even more fiercely, crushing her lips with his kiss, taking her lower lip between his teeth and biting to just the edge of pain. Briefly she wondered if afterwards her lips would also be bruised, sore, and red, but then she ceased all thought as he renewed his advance, crushing her thin body against his with the ferocity of his embrace.

After an eternity that flashed by in an instant, he withdrew and they both caught their breaths, panting from aroused passions. He kept her gaze locked on his eyes, lifting a hand to push back a strand of hair falling across her face.

“Do you still wonder if I’m disappointed with you, my pet?”

She smiled, all fears laid to rest. “No. No, I don’t.”

“And are you disappointed with me?”

“No, I am not.”

“Good, because I plan to keep you for a very long time.”

She squirmed again in his lap, happiness settling over her, suffusing her through and through.

“Ok, I don’t think we need these any longer,” he said, reaching around behind her. “But first, pet, what are you?”

She knew this game. She liked this game, and now she knew it wasn’t actually a game.

“I am yours.”

“That’s right,” he said, as he unlocked the cuffs from her wrists.

“You are mine.”

Getaway Weekends

I’m off to another getaway weekend in the mountains, laptop and a good book in tow. There might be wifi where I’m staying, but there just as likely might not be, and I’m all right with that. Fewer distractions (though you are all wonderful distractions) means more actual writing gets done. See you in a few days!

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Second Chances

That evening, Paul arrived, flowers in hand, scrubbed and clean. Clearly he was going the extra mile. I told you he was a nice guy.

I met him at the door to my apartment, and as we stood there in the doorway awkwardly, I had a serious moment of doubt. What was he going to think of me? Oh well, he was here now, so I had better at least let him in. Maybe I could just pour some wine and drop the whole idea, just spend a relaxing evening, watching a movie or something.

No, that wasn’t going to work. The basic problem still existed, still needed to be solved, and besides, I had dumped this guy once already. Either we tried something different or the whole exercise was pointless. Going on as we did before was not an option for me.

Well, the wine was still a good idea. I was pretty nervous.

“Hi.”

He smiled broadly. “Hi. I, um, brought you these.” He handed me the flowers. I smiled and opened the door wider, ushering him into the living room of my tiny Queen Anne apartment. I nodded over at the bottle on the dining table.

“Pour us each a glass while I get these into some water.”

I pulled a vase out of a kitchen cabinet, filled it with water, cut the ends of the stems, and put the flowers into the vase. When I turned around, Paul had gotten the cork out of the pinot noir and was just pouring the second glass.

“We should let these breathe a little first,” he said.

I picked up one of the glasses and took a healthy swig. Paul just looked at me.

“What? The rest of it will breathe. I needed that now.”

“Are you ok, Olivia?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, you just seem a little edgy.”

I took a second drink from my glass and looked him in the eye. How the hell was I supposed to do this? Well, only one way to find out if it was going to work.

“Come with me,” I said, then pointed at the bottle. “And bring that.”

Paul picked up the bottle and followed me into the bedroom. Now he was drinking from his glass, too.

“Um, Olivia? Are we even going to talk about, you know, the other night?”

I couldn’t quite meet his eye, so I just started unbuttoning my blouse. His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth but no further words came out. Having sort of thought this through earlier, although whatever plan I’d had was already shot to hell, I wasn’t wearing a bra. When I got the last button undone, I hesitated a moment, though why was beyond me. I mean, it wasn’t like we hadn’t already done it. He had definitely seen me naked before. Why was I so nervous now?

Before I could back out of it, I pulled the blouse open wide and slipped it off my shoulders. Paul’s gaze was firmly on my breasts now, the wine bottle in one hand and glass in the other all but forgotten. I blushed again, the heat spreading across the tops of my breasts, up my neck and onto my face, but I don’t think he even noticed. Moving quickly, nothing especially seductive about it, I shimmied out of my skirt and tugged my panties down. I stepped out of my heels, which frankly I had only put on for greeting him — I don’t usually bother wearing shoes inside the apartment — and stood there before him, naked as the day I was born, blushing even brighter red.

He didn’t say anything. His mouth was still open, and I wasn’t sure if he was shocked or excited. He was definitely surprised. I reached for my glass again and finished it off, then took the bottle from him, refilled my glass, and set the bottle on the nightstand.

“Well?” I said. “Are you just going to stand there?”

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The Outdoor Writer’s Studio

Writing at Sunrise 1Lately I’ve been spending my weekends out of town, enjoying some of the more beautiful locations to be found around the Pacific Northwest, and perhaps obtaining some inspiration. Who says you can’t write in an unwired spot?

“Do you get WiFi here?” I was asked fairly constantly.

“Not at all,” I replied with a happy grin.