The Sweetest Taboo: An Unconventional Romance (6 page)

People often say that when Cupid’s arrow strikes, the little bastard zooms in on your heart with sniper-like accuracy. With micah, he hit his target and was now Riverdancing on My heart. I’m not the type to believe in love at first sight, but there was just something different about micah marie foster.

I steeled Myself and just let go. No sense in putting on a façade. she asked a direct question so she’d get a direct answer. “I want everything, micah. I’m willing to go at your pace, but I want everything. I’m looking for
her
: My obedient vixen, My lover, My friend, My wife, My everything.”

I could hear her breathing heavily on the other end of the line. My God, I didn’t want to send her into another asthma attack. “sweetheart, I’m not trying to freak you out. I’m sorry, but I’m simply being honest here.”

“Oh . . . okay . . .”

“I want you, micah. Will you give us a chance?”

she took a deep breath that apparently calmed us both, because after that she opened up like a blossom in the morning sun, and I sank back onto My sofa and basked in her fragrant warmth.

After her initial hesitation, we talked about any and everything from politics, to television, to what we were seeking in a partner. The conversation was effortless. she made Me laugh, I made her laugh, and we ended up chatting until almost five in the morning.

This might have been a little fast for her taste, but I invited her to My condo the following night for that drink I had promised. Shit, she made Me wait more than two weeks to even hear her voice again. Asking her to My apartment shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but I knew she was the play-it-safe type.

I wanted to see her. I
needed
to see her. So I offered to cook her dinner to sweeten the deal.

micah

i was tired. Dog tired. i stayed up until the wee hours of the morning chatting on the phone with Rick and had absolutely no regrets. Well, not until i had to drag my ass into work and deal with Joan.

Thank goodness for coffee, because it was the only reason i presented as human. Even the zombies on the
Walking Dead
would’ve been scared of me.

Once Rick expressed genuine interest in me, i felt comfortable enough to share my feelings with Him.

He wanted to know my story. He wanted to know why i chose to to be a submissive, how long i’d been in the lifestyle, what type of dynamic i was seeking, what type of Dom. He interviewed me just as much as i interviewed Him.

No one had ever cared to know the reasons behind my submission, so Rick’s interest was a welcome change. The Men i had served preferred temporary arrangements. i never quite clicked with anyone enough to want something more out of our situation, so walking away when things had run their course had never been difficult.

i was looking forward to seeing Him again, though. Under normal circumstances, i would never agree to meet a Man i hadn’t known for an extended period of time at His apartment for dinner and drinks.

my creep-o-meter was dialed down to zero. Rick didn’t give off an ounce of crazypants. To be on the safe side, i told kisa where i was headed. Armed with His address and telephone number, plus His place of employment, kisa’s “i’ve got my eye on You” arsenal was locked and loaded.

my best friend was skeptical. she didn’t think Rick was a jerk or a sexual predator or anything like that—she was merely looking out for my best interest, which i appreciated. we both had experienced our fair share of poseurs, so she armed me with a brand-new canister of pepper spray and told me to be extra careful.

Rick had been expecting me. The door attendant barely gave me an opportunity to identify myself before calling up to Rick to announce my arrival. i chuckled at kisa’s warning and the enthusiastic greeting i just received as i pressed the button for Rick’s floor.

i fidgeted and pulled down my bandage dress while the elevator carried me to the twenty-fifth floor. When i was home and in front of my bedroom mirror, it seemed like a good idea to wear the skintight navy dress and canary-yellow peep-toe stilettos. Although the dress stopped at my upper thigh, i worried now that it barely covered my ass. One thing was for certain: i was going to give the good Doctor a show.

i’m not sure what my plan of action was, other than to look as appealing as possible.

The last time Rick saw me, i was being discharged from the hospital wearing a pair of distressed jeans with my hair pulled back in an unruly ponytail. Tonight i wanted Him to have a different image, so i spent more time than usual on my hair and makeup. Of course i was nervous, so i proceeded to bite my lower lip, but stopped when i remembered i was wearing lipstick.

If my lipstick was going to be ruined, it wouldn’t be my own doing.

i was poised to ring the bell when Rick opened the door.

He stood leaning against the door frame looking the part of a Greek God, wearing a pair of black dress slacks and a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to His elbows. He appeared both dapper and casual, and if i was being truthful, mouthwatering. The glasses perched upon Rick’s nose made Him resemble a beefier version of Clark Kent. Not a bad image to have, since Clark was all sorts of yum.

He gently took my hand, leading me over the threshold and into His apartment.

“Hi, micah. you look absolutely breathtaking. Welcome to My home,” He said, closing and locking the door behind us.

i’m pretty sure i blushed at His compliment. Well, my cheeks felt warm and my heart felt like it was about to pop out of my chest.

“Hi, Rick. Thank You,” i replied.

Rick spun me around to get a full view of the piece of thread i called a dress. i think He approved.

His eyes settled on my breasts before He spoke. “you have to know that it’s going to be difficult for Me to focus this evening when you’re wearing something so incredibly flattering.”

i knew what He meant; i anticipated having the same problem.

His eyes lingered on my chest a little longer than necessary. i was fairly certain He was enjoying the view. Tonight, no push-up bra was needed; the dress enhanced
all
of my assets.
Dangerous curves ahead.

i cleared my throat. “i’m sorry, is it too much?”

“No, pretty girl. you look stunning.”

Something about the way He called me “pretty girl” gave me butterflies.

He once again linked His fingers with mine, leading me farther into His condo. The place was spacious and immaculate with a modern but contemporary décor. i’m not sure what i expected, but somehow i knew this Man would have impeccable taste. His condo also provided an amazing view overlooking Central Park. i could only imagine how much the annual fees set Him back.

This was one of those instances where i felt like i was out of my league. i held my own professionally and financially, but even so, my apartment was located in Spanish Harlem, not Central Park West. This side of the park was explicitly relegated to the upper echelon of New Yorkers. i was doing well, but clearly not as well as Rick. How could He afford such a spacious condo on a doctor’s salary? Doctors are well-off, but not this well-off.

After giving me a tour of His apartment, Rick and i settled in the kitchen. He pulled out my chair and waited for me to be seated before He poured me a glass of wine. As i sipped my wine, He filled our plates with the chicken stir-fry and wild rice He had prepared. It was great to see that there were still Men who believed in chivalry.

“Do You cook often?” i asked, taking another sip of the Pinot Grigio He had selected.

He placed our plates on the table and took a seat across from me. “Define ‘often,’” He countered.

“Well, You’re a Bachelor. i was wondering if You eat out of takeout containers more often than preparing home-cooked meals?”

He picked up His fork and took a few bites, making me wait for His response.

He wiped His mouth with a napkin and paused for a moment before speaking. “I don’t cook often, but if I do, it’s usually something quick and lean like what we’re eating now.” Rick rested His elbows on the table and leaned forward. “With My schedule, by the time I arrive home I’m not in the mood to stand over a hot stove. It’s times like that where I’d really enjoy domestic servitude. I would come home and My girl would have My dinner waiting.”

Domestic servitude didn’t bother me one bit. i enjoyed it, since i was a bit of a neat freak. Everything in my apartment had a place. i think the term for someone who’s into apartment therapy coupled with a bit of obsessive compulsiveness is called a domestic goddess. i might’ve heard it mentioned on one of those HGTV design shows, or maybe it was
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
, but don’t quote me on that.

Providing for a Dom in a capacity that made His life easier was my duty. If that meant doing His laundry, making His meals, keeping His home clean, so be it. Besides, cleaning was therapeutic for me. It was yet another way i dealt with stress.

i took a few more bites of the sweet and tangy stir-fry. Rick had a few skills in the kitchen.

“Is domestic servitude something you’re interested in, micah?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir. i consider myself a bit of a neat freak. Although i’ve never been in a long-term arrangement, i’ve served as house girl for other Doms in the past,” i replied.

He quirked an eyebrow and stared at me . . .
hard
.

i immediately stopped eating and put my fork down, trying to replay my last few words in my head. Did i overstep my bounds and say something inappropriate by discussing previous Doms? Why was He looking at me like that?

“you called Me ‘Sir.’”

Yep, i’m pretty sure my cheeks were flushed. While i may be of a darker hue, i felt as if my entire face had turned bright red. For all i knew, i was giving that damn reindeer Rudolph a run for his money.

“i-i’m sorry. i—”

He interrupted my stammering. “micah. It’s all right. I prefer you address Me that way, but I wanted it to come naturally.”

i didn’t know what to say. i addressed Him as Sir as if it were the norm. i had gotten caught up in our discussion and it . . . it just happened.

“Between our phone conversation and the time we’ve spent together tonight talking, it’s pretty obvious we have something powerful between us, but we’ve got to feel one another out and see how well we jive. What works, what doesn’t. I want you to be comfortable with Me. I accept you addressing Me as Sir.”

In my nervousness, i lightly chewed on my lower lip. He seemed so incredibly calm while i was a mess inside. i lowered my eyes to focus on my plate and poked at a piece of chicken with my fork.

He reached across the table and gently lifted my chin, pinning me with His gaze. “Hey, pretty girl, we still have a bit more ground to cover. We only scratched the surface over the phone. Tonight, we dive in.”

my heart chose that moment to beat erratically against my chest. i was intrigued by Him. i don’t think He realized i noticed that was the second time He called me “pretty girl.” i liked it. i liked it very much. Something about Rick made me want to be
His
pretty girl.

her Master

Dinner progressed well. To Me, micah was a gem. A beautiful diamond that had yet to be adequately polished and displayed.

Aside from her stunning physical attributes, I found her to be intelligent, enterprising, cultured, artistic, and funny. Our conversations flowed after we got over the initial awkwardness; it was like we had known each other for years.

We talked during dinner, and when micah laughed her face completely lit up. Beautiful.

Watching micah laugh made Me happier than I’d been in years.

Remember I said I don’t date? It’s true. Once My last partner and I parted, I had no interest in getting emotionally involved with another woman. I found women to fulfill My sexual needs and that was it. Bed ’em and keep it moving. I didn’t want to go down that path again: emotionally investing in someone only to have them fuck up what we had. I thought samantha was satisfied, but it turns out My lifestyle wasn’t what she wanted long-term.

samantha was My live-in submissive. We were together for about two years before she decided to call it quits without any warning. she gave no indication that she was unhappy, just a brief conversation after work one day that ended in her telling Me she was leaving.

There was a time when I was angry with sam for leaving, since she knew what she had signed up for from the beginning. All the anger and animosity I held withered away a long time ago. I let that shit go. Harboring ill will could only bring You down.

After that fiasco, I’d been gun shy about becoming emotionally vulnerable with another woman. But until two weeks ago, no one had sparked My interest long enough to make Me think about the future. My perspective had changed. samantha was simply a road I had to cross to get to My present opportunity: micah. Enough time had passed and I was ready to start over.

We needed to expand our discussion of limits we began on the phone, so I clicked the shuffle button on the stereo and led micah to the sofa as Miles Davis’s album
Kind of Blue
filtered through the condo.

micah leaned back against the sofa and crossed her legs. her dress steadily climbed up her thigh as she shifted in her seat. her skin shimmered and I couldn’t help but stare. There is nothing more attractive to Me than a woman with flawless skin.

I sat in an armchair, thinking of all the dirty shit I wanted to do to her. Goddamn, she was sweeter than pie. Maybe it was the two and a half glasses of wine we consumed during dinner, but watching her as she spoke turned Me on. I wasn’t drunk or buzzed, but I was feeling full of energy. It wasn’t anything she did or said, it was simply My overwhelming desire for her. We were discussing micah’s hard limits when I removed My glasses and placed them on the coffee table.

“i’m not into race play of any sort, verbal or physical degradation, scening with anyone under twenty-one, bestiality, fisting, or bodily fluids.”

“I see,” I replied. “Anything else you wish to add?”

“No, Sir. Those are my absolute hard limits.”