House Rules: The Jack Gordon Story (10 page)

Keeping
her eyes downcast, she nodded. Then looked up fast, surprising him. Later, he
would realize that was the moment he should have known, should have figured out
Jenna’s manipulative tendencies. If he had been more mature, more at ease with
his powers of perception, or at least in tune with his gut feeling to run away
from her as fast as he could, he might have avoided a shit ton of head and
heart ache.

Instead
he smiled at her boldness, liking it and wanting to tame it—thinking he could,
which was mistake number one.

“You
don’t have to…Sir,” she whispered, not tearing her gaze from his. Something
about her rubbed him both ways—wrong and right. He could not figure it out. Her
neediness—that familiar aura he’d come to know and understand those nights at
the club that first summer—was tinged with something else, something a little
ominous. He ignored it. And let his overwhelming urge to control her shove away
the worry.

“I
know that. Let’s sit. Have coffee.” He grinned at her exasperated look.
Yeah,
control this scene, Gordon.
Otherwise she would and something told him that
would be very bad.

“After
you.” He grabbed their cardboard cups and nodded toward an empty table in a sea
of students drinking, reading, talking—doing all the normal things. He zeroed
in on Jenna and the many subliminal possibilities she was tossing his way.

“So
Jenna,” he said stretching his legs out under the table and letting his calf
make contact with hers. He sensed her flinch ever so slightly at the touch.
“Where are you from?”

She
sipped her coffee, kept her gaze on his. “Southern Illinois, little town you’ve
never heard of.”

“Okay.”
Jack stayed apart, trying to remain objective, but something about her fairly
screamed “take me now” so loudly he was surprised everyone around them couldn’t
hear it.

He
swallowed hard, willed himself back from the edge, and made small-talk with
her. It was not comfortable, and the more they sat and the more he tried to
make it “just a chat,” the hornier he got. He knew damn good and well she was
throwing it, her vibe, just to see if he’d catch it. He did not like being
tested. But at the same time wanted to prove he could pass with flying fucking
colors.

Finally
he stood, slowly, never more unsure and sure of something at the same time in
his life. She rose at the same pace, her body drawing his eyes and making him
have to bite his tongue not to say something that would tip the scale of power
in her favor. Because that is exactly what this was, as they stood and stared
at each other across the small, coffee shop table—a power play.

Her
hair tumbled around her face. High cheekbones were flushed red, dark blue eyes
flashed, the hands she put on her hips all tempted. It was as if she were
dressed the way he preferred, in a short, easy-access dress and towering high
heels, hair done up, all ready for him. When really she just stood there in
jeans, a sweater, and little makeup. The minute flowed into two as the world
continued to orbit around them.

He
frowned, pissed at himself for being so weird. Attaching emotion to something
that should contain none, trying to focus on his ability to show her a good
time, nothing more or less. It was not until many years later that he
understood that keeping himself emotionally aloof from so many for so long had
been a mistake and led him to this moment, when he allowed himself an ill-timed
moment of vulnerability.

She
leaned back then, cocked one hip as if pulling away. He nearly fell forward but
caught himself on the table. This was too much. He should bolt, fast, before he
did something really dumb.

“C’mon,”
he blurted out, his voice gruff. “We need to clear the air.”

She
let him put a possessive hand in the small of her back and guide her out
without speaking, as if they were already a couple. His house was a ten-minute
car ride from campus but he toyed with walking there, to get his head straight.

Then
he found himself opening the passenger’s side door and handing her in. She
moved in a fluid way like a dancer.  Jack couldn’t help but be mesmerized even
as she did something as innocuous as get into his truck. The ride was quiet but
in an oddly comfortable way, as if they were used to each other’s silences and
willing to let them happen.

When
he parked in the drive, a sudden feeling of apprehension gripped his gut and
gave it a painful twist. She sat, waiting for him to make the first move like a
good submissive. He shuddered when the word hit the front of his brain. She was
that, to be sure, but his? That was another question and one he was not sure he
wanted the answer to, yet.

The
months he had spent calming his excess energy by learning how to dominate, how
to please, how to be in complete control of his partners’ pleasure had been a
pure buzz. He loved it. There was no denying that, or that he was a natural at
it.

More
women had been pleasured by him and his abilities than he could even count
anymore. He’d “graduated with honors,” and while the old club owner guy would
not yet call him a Master, he knew if he hadn’t left for law school when he
did, it would have been a matter weeks before that happened. But now he felt
queasy and decidedly un-masterful.

A
hand touched his leg. He stared at it, the short nails painted a funky brown
like dried blood. Her fingers tapered and elegant. The gut-deep reaction Jack
was having to her was freaking him the fuck out. He gulped and decided to make
this short and sweet and bid her farewell as quickly as he possibly could.
Without looking at her he climbed out, then stomped up the steps and unlocked
the door, tossing his stuff on the entryway floor. He escaped to the small
kitchen to gulp some water.

He
heard her enter, then walk up behind him after a few minutes. She waited
quietly, until he turned. Gaping at the sight of Jenna, completely naked in his
kitchen, her firm, large breasts tipped with deep pink nipples, Jack sensed
something in his brain click into place.

Her
sex was nearly bare but for a small triangle of dark brown fuzz. He could see
it all, more than he wanted to see, including an intriguing piece of body art
that he reached out to touch. The black vine-looking thing came around her
side, bloomed like a leafless tree across her stomach, reaching down into her
tiny patch of pubic hair. His finger shook as he touched it, but the heat of
her skin soothed him. The feel of female flesh under his hand cast a pall over
his zinging nerves. He pulled her close and everything slowed, including his
racing pulse.

She
tasted like coffee and like something exotic, as he parted her lips and she
went up on her tiptoes to put her arms around his neck and mold her body
against his. He stopped. And she stepped back, dropping her gaze. “I’m sorry. I
should not have touched you…yet.”

Wiping
his lips as the nervousness tickled his brain again, he took her hand, led her
back to his room. He hadn’t had any women in his house in a while, much less in
his room, even after a year of school. Which was odd considering his previous
preference for intimate house parties.

His
time at the club had changed his taste for play and he’d kept it separate from
where he lived on purpose. Problem was, he wanted this one close, in his
personal space. The strength of the wanting terrified and exhilarated him all
at once.

He
opened a small chest, pulled out a length of soft cotton rope and nothing else.
“Lie down,” he said, his voice so low he could barely hear it himself.  “Hands
over your head.” He bound her wrists, allowed himself a few moments to stroke
her amazing body, watching as she reacted, loving it so much he felt like he
could keep her here forever. She bent one leg as her breathing quickened.

He
kissed her then, unable to stop himself, dove into her mouth as his fingertips
found her exposed clit, teased it, then slid his experienced fingers inside
her.

She
sighed, writhed under his touch and his lips. Then he stopped himself, got off
the bed and left her there without a word. He needed space. He should not have
brought her here. He wasn’t ready for something that felt
so…incredibly…strange. What should be right simply was not. He couldn’t figure
it out. After whimpering a little, Jenna stayed quiet.

Jack
sat at the small kitchen table and contemplated the odd sensations fluttering
around his brain like trapped insects. Yeah, his cock was hard enough to cut a
few diamonds but that he could handle. It was his heart, which kept pounding
and his head, which buzzed so loudly he could barely hear himself think. What
was this?

He
ran a hand down his face, around the back of his neck. The longer he sat, the
worse it got. So he stood and stomped back into the bedroom, stripping out of
his clothes under her gaze. She bit her plump, delicious, lower lip. An odd
sensation of ownership enveloped him. That was his lip. He would bite it, and
she would do exactly what he told her.

As
if in a daze, moving slowly and with purpose but not even understanding what or
why—just that he had to do it, he rolled her over. Yanking her hips up, he
smacked her ass, hard, open-handed, once, twice, again. Watching as her flesh
reddened and hearing her sighs and squeals of pleasure. The ropes at her wrists
caught his eye for some reason. She was pulling against them so hard they
burned her skin and a drop of blood had appeared, marring their bright
whiteness.

He
stared at it, caressing her hip and ass that he’d just smacked yet again. To
her credit, she stayed quiet, emitting only little sighs and moans as he ran
both his hands up her back and into her hair. He gripped tight and pulled with
one, then used his other to trace that wild tree-thing covering her lower back
and snaking around to her front.

“I
don’t know what it is about you…but….” He let go of her and rolled a condom
over his cock, still feeling trancelike, outside himself, unable to stop or
breathe or think. His control was slipping. He knew it. When he slid into her,
inch by exquisite, inch, her body gripped him so tight he gasped. And her sighs
turned into a low groan of satisfaction. He closed his eyes and let it happen.
The moment was sublime and meant more to him than it likely should.

He
fucked her slow, watching as if from a distance, gripping her hips then
reaching around to tease her clit, until she cried out. Her whole body seemed
to pull him toward something he honestly believed he should run away from.

“Oh
shit,” he moaned and grabbed her hair again, yanking her head back as she continued
her low moaning and her body kept a firm hold on his cock it almost hurt.
Everything froze just as the orgasm burst across his nerve endings, making him
yell and lose himself utterly for the first time since Mindy, likely, or
Suzanne.

He
sighed and draped his body around hers. Pulled her down, and cradled her close
as he reached up to unbind her wrists. She still hadn’t spoken but was shaking,
trembling so hard her teeth chattered.

“Shh…,”
he whispered, pulling the quilt up over her while he hit the bathroom.
“Shh…Jenna,” he caressed her name when he returned, loving the feel of it in
his mouth as his brain sent up warnings to let her go, not allow to her stay.
But she was just so right, here in his arms. Burying his nose in her hair he
sighed, and slept.

Chapter Ten

By
the time Jack had found a roommate, a fellow second-year student named Evan
Adams who was hiding from his own inner Dom with a vanilla girlfriend, Jack
felt like he had a complete handle on his life for the first time ever.

It
was a buzz. He was on top of everything including the hot woman who was now his
full-time sub. They’d declared themselves as such at a new club he’d found,
thanks to a contact back in Detroit. Jenna was brash, high-maintenance. At once
eager to please and hard to manage, but totally got off on being punished, so
it worked. Or at least he thought it did.

The
last year of school was a blur as Evan’s family fell apart, he lost his vanilla
girlfriend, and both young men dealt with the stress of thinking about the real
world and real jobs. During a brief Jenna-inspired break when Jack had exploded
in fury at her and sent her away after she refused to come with him to Ann
Arbor to meet his family, he had very nearly let her go for good.