Truth or Dare; The Dominator II (21 page)

Tia

Tommy’s computer was making noise. I’d been walking by a room that we’d turned into an office for him and saw that it said “D” was calling. I suspected it was Dario but didn’t want to take a chance at answering it so I walked away and found Tommy up on the rooftop deck, swimming laps in the pool. I sat down on a lounge chair and watched him swim.  It was a nice night. He’d been in a good mood today. We had gone for dinner to this little place not far away that was quiet and romantic and then after dinner we’d taken a walk on the beach.

After three more lengths of the pool he swam closer to where I was and then his arms emerged by where my feet were dangling and he captured me by the hips and yanked me into the water.

“Hey,” I said after we emerged from the water, “You got my nightie all wet!”

“I’d like to get something else all wet…” he said against my throat and then my earlobe was in his mouth.

He moved us to more shallow water and I wrapped my legs around his waist and he peeled my nightgown over my head and then his hands were between us. He got his cock free from his swim trunks and then took me by my fanny and fit us together.

“Mm, perfect fit,” I said against his forehead and then kissed it. I put my hands into his hair and he put me against the side of the pool and started rotating his hips. A moment later he hoisted me up and planted my fanny on the deck and then climbed up and pulled me to a deck chaise where he went down on me, making me cry out. It was a beautiful night and there were so many stars. I loved this rooftop terrace. We were having sex outside and it was totally private. There was no one here but us. No guards around, no danger. Just us.

“I love you more than anything in this world,” I said to him and he moved up my body and then pushed in deep, to the root, inside me.

“Love you more, baby girl.” His lips met mine and he kissed me long and sweet and then thrust into me over and over until he came inside me.

Later, I was getting cleaned up and found him in the spare room typing away on email.

“Dare?” I asked him.

“Zack. Why?”

“Is Dare “D” on your Skype?”

“Yeah, why?”

He was buzzing you earlier. That’s why I came up to the pool.

“Kay.” He kept typing. He was obviously preoccupied.

“Something to drink?” I called on my way back out of the room.

“Yeah, and make it a fucking double,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” I felt panic rise in me.

“Your foster sister Mia has been digging around, looking for you.”

“Oh?” I really should’ve sent a postcard by now.

“She just bought a plane ticket to come here,” Tommy said.

“What?” I was shocked.

“Yeah. She leaves tomorrow.”

“Is it a coincidence?” I felt sick.

“She know anyone here that you know of?”

“Not that I know of.”

“She in the habit of traveling alone?”

“No. I don’t think she’s ever been anywhere, really.”

“Then it isn’t a coincidence. She’s been doing serious digging. And if your 17-18 year old friend can find us, then we aren’t doing a very fucking good job at hiding. You got anything to tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Like have you told anyone where we are? Have you logged into social media? Have you done anything that might make it easy for Mia to find us?”

I winced.

“Fuck, Tia. What the fuck?”

“I logged into Facebook. I didn’t even post. I was just playing that stupid candy game and I…”

“Fuck!” he roared, “How could you be so fucking stupid?”

My mouth dropped and my chest burned.

He glared at me.

“I was bored and…”

“You were bored? You were fucking bored? So it’s okay because you were bored that you put our lives in danger?”

“You don’t let me go anywhere and I didn’t think it would do anything. I didn’t post anything, I just connected the accounts and…”

“You didn’t think. You didn’t fucking think. Fuck, Tia.”

Tears welled up in my eyes.

“Out. I’ve gotta make some calls.”

“Tommy, I’m sorry.”

“Out. Fucking fuck!” His fist came down on the desk.

I left the room and closed the door behind me.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Angel

When I woke up Dare was asleep and spooning me. It felt so good. So right. I hated to leave the safety and bliss of his arms but I had to go to the bathroom. I quietly got up and did my business and then decided to cook him breakfast. It had been a long while since I’d cooked anything. I made bacon on his fancy stainless steel humongous stove and then put it in the oven’s warming drawer and then was about to get started on the eggs. As I closed the oven drawer I felt hands on my hips. I smiled and turned around. Dare was bare chested, sleepy, messy-haired, and totally gorgeous. He was in just a pair of denim-shaded blue boxer briefs that were the same shade as his eyes and his hands were all over me.

“Seriously? Waking up to the smell of bacon and coming out to find you bent over?”

His mouth came down on mine and then we were up against the fridge and he undid his fleece robe that I was in (I was naked underneath) and then hiked me up, hauled his beautiful cock out and then I was impaled on it. I moaned and he carried me, my legs wrapped around his waist, his cock inside me, and we had a spectacular morning quickie where we started out missionary style for a few minutes on his sofa and then flipped me to my hands and knees and finished doggy style on the living room floor while I played with my clit and he held a breast.

Afterwards I scrambled some eggs and put a mountain of cheese on them, which he teased me for. I made toast with peanut butter and jam, too, cutting his toast as well as mine into triangles and we ate breakfast together while watching Bugs Bunny.

He made me blush when he said, “So now I rate for triangles?”

“Oh yeah…” I’d said flirtatiously, “You rate…”

Dare

Sitting there eating breakfast with her, feeling comfortable, happy, I started getting a nagging feeling, like I was in a dream and was gonna wake up any second alone, sweating, without her. It was almost too perfect. I started to lose my appetite, started to feel sour.

Debbie and I had done a fair bit of role playing when we were together. Just about the only thing I wasn’t down for was her topping me in the bedroom. I just wasn’t built that way. She tried, one night dressing in this pleather bodysuit and trying to boss me around, and I’d pissed her off because I wound up hog tying her and then tickling her until she begged for mercy. Then I left her bound and fucked her while she was bent over an ottoman in her parents’ basement. She’d been pissed at me for refusing to play along. But I did not play submissive. No way, no how.

But she knew how to play
me
and get me extra sweet because she’d figured out early on that her roleplaying as a submissive sex kitten was my favorite way to fuck. I liked it.  I loved it. A lot. And it got her gifts, too. She wasn’t submissive all the time but she tried that role on once in a while, particularly when she was in the dog house with me or when she wanted something that sparkled or to make me do something I didn’t really wanna do, like when I had to take her to some chick flick movie or that time she dragged me to a boy band concert. And she tried it on hard when we split up, trying to get me back.

Angel didn’t seem like she was trying to lead me around by my dick. She was letting me lead.

My Angel was that way from the start and there was no way she could know that this is what I liked, not unless my Pop asked Debbie and provided that information when he arranged her for me. I couldn’t see it. But suddenly I had to know, had to know if I was being played here. I asked her what coaching she’d had about me.

“What did they tell you I wanted before we met?” 

She looked startled and probably because we’d been eating bacon and eggs, watching cartoons, and having a nice morning when suddenly my attitude shifted and I had my arms folded across my chest, “What
exactly
?”
“They…” she paused, toast in mid air, swallowed a gulp of coffee, and then continued, “They didn’t. I waited for instructions. I was waiting for instructions that never came. They talked in front of me saying we had very little information so they were sure I’d definitely be staying an extra month or two once you’d done an interview to list my deficiencies. All I was told was that you wanted a redhead with a big appetite for sex.”

“How many redheads there?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a dozen or so.”

“Why’d they pick you?”

“There were only three shortlisted redheads. I don’t know why they picked me.”

“What does shortlisted mean?”

“Shortlisted means I was an option on a small list of possible assets for sale. There’s a short list of women who
could
be sold. Only women the leadership team felt could be trusted outside the resort were on that list. I had enough positive feedback and hadn’t had any infractions for behavior in long enough that I was on that list. I don’t know all the criteria. I guess essentially they thought I was broken enough.”

She was looking at me a little confused, looking more than a little hurt. Her last sentence hit me in the gut but I forged ahead anyway, “Why’d you have a big sexual appetite in a place like that?”

She opened her mouth in shock and then she slumped.

I waited.

Her face went red.

“Forget it.” I knew she fucked to survive and it’d had probably twisted into want out of necessity. I was dealing with an internal struggle here and it was making me be an insensitive dick to her.

I felt like I was falling for this, falling for the idea of a girl who worshipped me, wanted me, loved to fuck the way I wanted, wanted a houseful of kids, would lay on my stomach contentedly while watching sports. I didn’t wanna let myself get attached in case I was missing something important, like a ploy or plot, like another one of my Pop’s games. He could certainly be playing me from the grave given the fact he’d put these wheels in motion before he died.

Besides, she could get over this hero worship shit and what if what was left was nothing but pain for me? I became someone I hate after Debbie fucked me over and if I let myself fall in love again and got fucked over again what would I become then?

“Got shit to do today. You need anything before I go?” I downed the rest of my coffee and then headed toward the bedroom, avoiding her face, which I knew was hurt.

“No,” she said softly as I passed her.

I changed into a suit and headed to my den to send a few emails and get some stuff in motion. When I came out she was cleaning the kitchen. She looked gorgeous, wearing a pair of black yoga pants and royal blue racerback tank. She had her hair tied up in a messy knot and she was barefoot. My eyes landed on the collar on her throat. I had to resist the urge to take her by it and haul her back to the bedroom or to the kitchen floor, or wherever. Everything that collar stood for was wrong. But the fact that she was wearing it meant she was mine. Not only to her but it looked like it was starting to mean that to me, too. She fucking loved that thing. I loved that she loved that thing. But I was twisted up over the guilt I felt because of it.

I approached her and she hesitated, not meeting my eyes.   She was picking up on my mood, evidently.

“I’ll be back later,” I kissed her forehead. She leaned into my lips and then tipped her mouth up, wanting my lips on hers. I hesitated and then gave her a soft lip touch and let out a long sigh. We stared into one another’s eyes for a minute. Then I backed away, shaking my head. She visibly deflated as I did, her eyes downcast. I left the apartment and it left an emptiness in my chest to walk away from her. But I did it anyway.

** ** **

That afternoon I worked on some shit to do with the construction arm of the business, including a meeting with a few of the foreman who weren’t happy to be called in on a Sunday but too fucking bad, and at 2:00 my cell made a noise alerting me to a text from Tess asking me if I was coming to the house for Sunday dinner and if I was bringing my “new girlfriend” or not. It would be just the girls and the kids as Ed had to work, covering for his backup chef who usually worked Sundays. I didn’t know if I could handle dinner with them and the third degree about her. Obviously the ‘new girlfriend’ remark was Tess baiting me to see if I’d agree or say “she’s not my girlfriend”. I’d be the only male outta diapers in the place if I did go so I told her I had to work and couldn’t make it.

I wished I had my brother here, accessible, so I could run some work shit by him and so I could talk over this Felicia shit. I felt guilty for interrupting him in his new life. I’d told him to let me handle things and now I was feeling like I was in over my head. Fuck. I felt dirty even thinking of her as Felicia. But when I thought of her as Angel I thought of her as being MY Angel and that felt dangerous to me because of what it represented. Me, vulnerable.