Truth or Dare; The Dominator II (16 page)

“You alright?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“You make breakfast or lunch?”

“I, um, ate the rest of the pizza for breakfast.”

I laughed, “Breakfast of champions.”

She let out a small laugh.

“I’ll be there around 7:00 tonight. You need me to bring anything?”

She was quiet.

“You there, Angel?” I asked gently. She had asked me not to call her Felicia anymore but she begged me not to make her tell me her real name.

“I’m here,” she whispered.

“Why’re you whispering?” I whispered back.

She cleared her throat and her voice got louder, “Sorry. I’m here.”

“What do you need that you don’t have? Maybe tomorrow as it’s Saturday I’ll take you shopping and let you loose with my credit card. Get you some more flannel pjs, girlie shit or whatever, too?” I laughed. “But what about tonight? Anything you need that you don’t have?”

“I have everything I need, Master,” she said softly and fuck, it just about did me in the way she said that.

“Not your Master,” I replied.

She was quiet.

“What do you wanna eat tonight?” I pushed the emotions she was stirring in me away.

“Whatever you want,” she answered.

“There has to be more than pasta you’ve craved and haven’t had in two years.”

She was quiet.

“Babe?”

“PB and J,” she said, no sighed, “Thick soft white Wonder bread. Strawberry jam with chunks of strawberries in it. Kraft smooth peanut butter.”

I laughed a little, “I think I’ll need you to be more specific.”

“I am
so
gonna get fat,” she said softly.

“Yeah, you are.” I chuckled.

“Hey,” she said softly but indignantly.

“Angel, if I can make it so that the worst thing that happens to you from now on is a little junk in your trunk, I’m all over that.”

“All over my trunk, Master?” she giggled.

I was surprised at her making a joke but her laugh and easy manner made me smile. That giggle was like music. I’d bet big money that she hadn’t giggled like that too much in the past two years.

“Not your Master,” I whispered.

She didn’t reply.

“So PB & J for dinner?” I said finally to break the silence.

“Yeah,” she said hoarsely and then cleared her throat, “Yes, please.”

** ** **

I hadn’t been inside a supermarket since… I don’t even know. Sarah did all my shopping. It was a weird experience. I seemed to be getting a lot of female attention; shoppers, cashiers, especially at the check-out when I grabbed a bouquet of flowers from a bin by the checkout. I pushed away the nagging little voice telling me I’d give her the wrong idea and instead told myself I wanted to brighten up the apartment for her since she was stuck there all day.

When I got in she was watching TV and she’d jumped like a cat that wants to latch itself to the ceiling at me opening the door.  I raised a hand, “Just me,” and then I hit buttons on the alarm panel.

She had her hair tied up in a high ponytail and she was wearing my pjs still. Her face was make-up free but she looked fresh and pretty. The apartment smelled like lemons. Everything was spotless.

“Definitely need to get you more flannel pjs, huh?” I jerked my chin up and dropped the supermarket bag and bouquet on the counter.

“I, I washed them and put them back on. I hope that’s okay. I did your other laundry, too, from the trip, the, uh, stuff I
could
wash. I saw a dry cleaning bag in the master walk-in so I put your suits in there.”

“You don’t have to clean and do my laundry, babe.” I started unpacking the groceries, “I have a housekeeper come by twice a week. Shit, Sarah’s due here Monday. We’re gonna have to figure out how to play that.” I put my index fingers to my temples.

I shook my head at that thought and then pulled out a crystal vase from a kitchen cupboard and filled it with water and then plunked the flowers in and put them in the center of the island.  She smiled at the sight of them.

“So why do you like those pajamas so much?” I jerked my chin up, “Remind you of Alaska?”

She climbed up on a stool at the island. “Everything I have is just uncomfortable for lounging. Or inappropriate for outside the, uh, bedroom.”

“Ah. Well, tomorrow we can hit the mall.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Naw, what guy doesn’t like being dragged around a mall while a woman buys clothes?” I gave her a wink.

She smiled and it spread to her eyes. They sort of twinkled, the light catching them and her sapphire collar at the same time. My throat went dry.

“I’m really throwing your life into a tailspin.” Her expression dropped.

I shook my head, “I do my best work under pressure. No worries. So why don’t you whip us up some PB & J and I’ll go get changed?”

She smiled, “You don’t mind eating sandwiches for dinner?”

I shrugged, “Naw, why not? Pizza for breakfast, PB & J for dinner, why be conventional?”

“You’re amazing,” she said and she was looking me right in the eye. She looked serious. Too serious.

“It might look like that after what you’ve been through, Angel, but you don’t know me,” I muttered and left the kitchen.

As I passed the utility room I saw that the dryer was still going and there were folded clothes and towels on top. Shit. Sarah would have something to say about this, for sure. When I came back out she was finishing putting things away and she’d served up sandwiches.

“What would you like to drink, Ma—Dare?”

“I’ll have what you’re having,” I said and sat down at the island.

She poured two glasses of milk and climbed up on a stool and looked at her plate with reverence. My sandwich was cut in half on the diagonal. Hers was cut into triangles. She closed her eyes a minute and then I saw her mouth an “amen” and then she lifted one of the triangles.

She took a bite and the expression on her face gave me a semi. If her face went like that at a pb&j what the fuck would it look like while she was having an orgasm?

“I don’t rate for triangles?” I teased. I reached into the kitchen cupboard and pulled out a bottle of chocolate syrup and squeezed a healthy dose into my drinking glass. Her eyes lit up. I squeezed an even bigger glug into her glass and then passed her a spoon.

She blushed, stirred, took a sip of the milk, and moaned. Then she said, “They taste better when they’re triangles. I didn’t know if you’d agree.”

I gave her a grin, “Does something magical happen to triangular food?”

“Absolutely,” she smirked at me and I felt a pang at that smirk. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

She lifted another triangle and the moan that she made as she ate it, her eyes rolling back, it went right to my fucking cock. Evidently I seriously needed to get laid.

But how could I get laid if I was keeping up with my ‘man whore no more’ plan? It’d be complicated to start a new relationship while she was living here, too. What woman who was marriage material would be okay with me having a chick live at my place?

I had to keep her close, though, to make sure that the Kruna scumbags didn’t get suspicious.  Maybe I needed to push the no man whore plan out a little. Go to a bar, get laid, get sex off my brain for five minutes. A voice inside me said:

Or maybe just take the angel in front of you. Problem solved.

That voice had been nagging at me since the minute my fingerprint opened that tablet and it was getting fucking louder.  It was trying to tell me that I could take her, that taking her wouldn’t mean I was taking advantage, that I could take her and be gentle with her and she’d get healthy and we’d get what we both wanted. For her, safety and knowledge that she was out of the reach of the Kruna scumbags. For me, my beautiful redhead who liked to fuck, who’d never cheat, and who’d give me a family and be fine with whatever life I made for us, whether it was in a world of shady shit or living in the country or moving to Yellowknife to be a bush pilot, or whatever.

But yeah, taking her? How was I any better than my father if I did that? I’d never have a girl who really loved me, only one who was obligated to pretend she did. Forget that shit.

But Tommy did it.

Yeah, he did.
And despite how they got going Tia now loved him. Her world revolved around him. I wanted that. I fucking dreamt about having that and unfortunately, those dreams were vivid and before the wedding I’d even had a few vivid dreams about having it with my brother’s girl. But once he slid that ring on her finger and I saw how she looked into his eyes like he was her everything, she starting really feeling like family, thank God. And as far as having another girl fall for a Ferrano boy after being thrust at him? Well…lightning usually didn’t strike twice.

I pushed my plate with the untouched sandwich back, “On second thought, I gotta hit the gym. Be back later.”

Her expression dropped but she quickly recovered and gave me a nod.

I headed to my bedroom and got my workout gear and threw jeans and a tee into a bag with it and headed out. The gym was in the building. Maybe I’d go for a drink afterwards.

** ** **

“Oh, my, Gaaaawd!”

I looked over my shoulder and saw a skanky-looking bleach blonde in fuck-me heels, big hair, and a hot pink tube mini dress approaching me.  Aw fuck. Not her.

“Dario Ferrano, slumming it?” Casey was in Debbie’s clique in high school. I was in a bar down the street from my building, post workout. I’d texted Zack to see if he wanted to meet me for a drink, thinkin’ it’d be good to hang with someone who knew the predicament I was in.

“Slumming it?”

This wasn’t exactly a dive bar.

She gestured to me with her hand, “I haven’t seen you in jeans since I don’t know when. High school? Mr. Dapper Dan is always in a suit. What’s up? Leather jacket and jeans? You’re like a bad boy or somethin’ tonight.” She sat on the stool beside me and threw back the last of the pink liquid in her glass and then gave me another once over, her eyes all lusty.

“Just finished a workout.” I flashed a smile. She had a great rack, a great fake rack. Casey’d been pretty well flat-chested in grade 12. Now she had double D’s, at least, “And I’m always a bad boy, babe.”

“So how about you buy me another drink, bad boy?” she flirted.

A text came in from Zack,
“Sorry man, on a stakeout and can’t make it. Hit me up next time.”

“Bartender?” I called out, “Another vodka for me and another pink sludge or whatever the fuck that was for this lovely lady.”

Felicia

After my peanut butter and jam sandwich I pondered it for a while and then after about half an hour of thinking about it, decided it’d maybe be okay if I took a long bath in Dario’s master bathroom. He had one of those peanut-shaped whirlpool tubs big enough for two. He didn’t have any sort of frou frou bath stuff and none had been packed with my things so minus bubbles but the bath was still heavenly.

His mood, as he left the apartment, made it very apparent to me that I needed to give him space. I had to be fair to him. He had rescued me out of necessity, sure, but he’d rescued me nonetheless and had been nothing but kind to me. We were in a sticky situation and it was being made stickier by the fact that my cheese had slipped off my cracker.

I thought I had it together all that time. I thought my A to B plan was what kept me sane because I could lock the
real me
away and get to it later, if I wanted to. I figured I could turn my emotions off and just do what I was supposed to do. But from the minute he walked into my life and the minute I was getting my Point C things had gone off the rails and I was having a hard time getting my brain back on the track. I was consumed with the need to spread my legs for him. Completely consumed with it. I’d thought I held it together all that time, compartmentalized things to keep my sanity but I guess I was wrong. Maybe I was so far off the rails I’d never get back.

After the bath I got into a red silky short nightie and borrowed his robe and then I went to his den to re-make up the futon, which had been folded back upright. I’d give him space to try to make up for the fact that I had been a total pain. I was afraid that if I didn’t give him space he’d send me away or send me back. If his plan was to make them think he was okay with this maybe his life would be easier if they sent him a new girl who wasn’t a crackpot, begging and pleading with him to fuck her. But as I started to drift to sleep I started fantasizing, imagining him romantically carrying me to his bed and telling me that he wanted me, that he’d keep me and keep me safe forever.

I hesitantly slipped my hands under my nightie while under the covers and after a lot of deliberating, a LOT of deliberating, I did something I hadn’t done since a few months after I was taken in to Kruna.  We were not allowed to masturbate unless it was part of an assignment. Our orgasms were gifts granted to us by our handlers or patrons. There was a camera in my room, which I had not known but had figured out when I got punished for it.  The punishment had been severe, unforgettably so.