What He Craves (4 page)

“How’s this feel?” he asked, flicking his tongue over my
nipple.

“Incredible.”

“Good.” He raked his fingernails down my stomach, over my
mound then cupped my sex. “How’s this feel?”

“Ohhh,” was all I could manage. When one of his fingers
probed my folds, I widened my stance, spreading my legs for him. Take me. Take
me now, I wanted to tell him. But I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.

Something large, something hard pushed at my opening, and I
shook as I relaxed my inner muscles. Every so slowly it filled me, stretched me
until my tissues burned and my insides pulsed. The pleasure was almost
unbearable. My insides were clenching that thick rod inside, and each time the
muscles tightened another intense rush of sensation ripped through me. I was on
the verge of climax, burning from the roots of my hair to the soles of my feet.

“Hmmm…” Shane said. “We’re going to have to do something
about this impatience of yours.”

“Please, not now.” I tensed, expecting him to pull the toy
out, to strip me of the pleasure that was right there, within my grasp.

A second hard thing pushed at my other opening, and I
clenched once again, fighting the intimate invasion. But that only amplified
the sensation deep inside, as my muscles rippled around the toy inside my
vagina.

“Open. Trust me.”

I dragged in a deep breath and relaxed my anus and in the
second toy slid. It surged farther, stroking so deeply I couldn’t hold back
another second. The orgasm was like a wild river. It picked me up and threw me
around, battering my body with relentless force. I surrendered, relaxing into
the violence, becoming fully engulfed. It was a climax like none I’d ever
experienced, so forceful I wondered if I might collapse.

If the rest of our relationship proved to be as violently
beautiful, I was in trouble.

“That’s all for you tonight,” Shane murmured in my ear. “Time
for sleep.”

The next morning, Shane pulled his zoomy car up to my condo,
put it into park and kissed me goodbye. The kiss was a rushed, a tiny bit empty
and disappointing after the explosive night we shared. But I didn’t let my
disappointment or confusion show. I beamed at him and let myself out. And, as
he rocketed away, I practically danced up the front walk.

As I was letting myself into my condo, I checked my messages
on my cell phone. Two from Jill. Both late last night. The second said I needed
to call her the minute I got the message, no matter what time it was.

So, I called her.

And I woke her up.

“Hello?” her heavy, sleep-filled voice cracked.

“It’s me. What’s the big emergency?” I asked as I locked
myself in my house.

“You’ll never guess who I ran into yesterday.”

“Dave.”

“Nope.”

“Bill.”

“Nope.”

“Jason.”

“Nope. Give up?”

“Yes.” I kicked off my shoes.

“Drake.”

“Drake Who?”

“Drake Who. Very funny. Your Drake, of course. Drake Cornett.
I saw him at the bookstore. He was in the coffee shop reading a book about
divorce. Divorce!”

A strange emotion buzzed through me. I decided I didn’t want
to look too closely at it. “Interesting.”

“Interesting? Interesting? Hello! Am I talking to the same
girl who’d prayed for months that he wouldn’t go through with his wedding?”

“Yes, that was me.
Was
.” I strolled into my kitchen
and poked my head into the refrigerator.

“And didn’t you say that if you ever heard that he was
single again that you wouldn’t hesitate to get in touch with him?”

My stomach rumbled. Shane had offered me some breakfast but
I’d passed. I’d been too excited and nervous to eat. I wasn’t too excited or
nervous to eat now. “I suppose I might’ve said that.”

“So…?”

“You don’t know if he’s single. Do you?” I grabbed a bag of
bagels and shut the door.

“Well…actually…”

“Did you speak with him?”

“I did.”

Tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder, I shoved my
hand into the bag and grabbed a bagel. “Tell me you didn’t outright ask him!”

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “I couldn’t be so rude. No, I
checked his ring finger. No ring.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” I snatched a knife from the
block and cut the bagel in half.

“Maybe not by itself, but paired with him reading a book
about divorce, I think it’s a pretty blatant sign that his marriage is either
over or about to be over.”

Despite having spent last night screaming in pleasure in
Shane’s pleasure palace, I found my heart getting a little pitter-pattery over
this news.

That scared me.

Once again, my timing with Drake was off. Way off.

A couple of years after he broke up with me, he appeared on
my front porch and told me he was ready to settle down. I was seeing someone
else at the time.

Then, I broke up with that guy and went back to Drake. He
was engaged to someone else.

Why did it seem fate was messing with us? Here we were once
again.

Shane and I were still very new. And we hadn’t defined exactly
what our relationship was. I wasn’t the type to juggle two men at once.
Especially if I was sleeping with one. I shoved the bagel into the toaster
slots and hit the button.

“I think you should get in touch with him. He still works at
MultiTech.”

“That’s nice. But I don’t think it’s such a good idea to
hunt him down right now.” I went back to the refrigerator and dug around on the
shelves for the cream cheese. I found it in the back.

“Why? Because of Mr. Whips and Chains?” Her voice was
dripping with sarcasm.

“Him and the fact that there’s a lot we don’t know about Drake’s
situation.”

“Bullshit. Drake was the best guy you’ve ever met. Hands
down. He puts Whips and Chains to shame, girl.”

“But he might not be in the position to get involved right
now. Even if his divorce is in the works, he might not be emotionally ready to
get involved.”

“I mentioned your name. He seemed very excited to hear about
you.”

The room was filling with the smell of toasted garlic.
Salivating, I pulled a plate out of the cupboard. Then I opened the cream
cheese container. Empty. “I’m not going to chase him down. No.”

“I suggested you two should get together and have coffee,
and he said he’d love it.”

“Stop it.”

“I don’t like Shane.” I could hear her sneer.

“You don’t have to. I do.” I returned to the refrigerator,
digging around for more cream cheese. The toaster popped.

“He’s going to hurt you.”

“That’s for me to decide.”

Silence. “Drake won’t ever talk about sharing you with his
friends.”

“Stop it.” I threw the empty container into the garbage. “I
said, I’m happy with Shane. Discussion over.”

“Fine.” More silence. “You know, I’m just trying to help.”

“I know. Thanks. Now, I need to jump in the shower and get
going. I’ll talk to you later.”

“What’s on the agenda today?”

Scowling, I stared at the dry bagel in the toaster. “I need
to get some groceries. Then, I’m not sure.”

“Want some company?”

“Sure.”

“See you in a few.”

“Bye.” I tossed my phone onto the counter and tried to eat
my cream-cheese-less bagel. After a few bites, I gave up and scampered into the
shower. I steamed and loofah-ed and shaved and soaped myself to silky smooth
cleanliness. Then, wearing one towel around my body, another on my head, I went
into the kitchen to get the coffeemaker going. I was slurping my first mouthful
when a knock at the door signaled Jill’s arrival. I let her in, and she went
right to the coffeepot, chattering on and on about how great Drake looked and
how happy he seemed to be when they talked about me.

Sitting at the kitchen table, I made a zipping motion across
my lips. “I don’t want to talk about Drake anymore.”

“What would it hurt to have coffee?” Jill asked as she
grabbed a cup with one hand, the pot with the other.

“What would be the point?” I countered.

She filled her cup and set down the pot. “Catching up with
an old friend?”

Standing next to her, my butt leaned against the counter, I
asked over the rim of my cup, “Again, what would be the point? I’m...seeing
someone.”

“But haven’t you been asking yourself what if?”

“Not recently, no.”

“Ah, so Mr. Whips and Chains has made you forget all about
him.” Jill sighed and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Bristol. You and I both know
this thing with Shane isn’t forever. You’re having your fun. He’s having his.
Sooner or later you’ll get tired of being tied up and spanked, and he’ll move
on to the next sexy bimbo with great latex.”

I felt my nose wrinkling. “You’re so calloused.”

“I’m being realistic.”

“I believe there’s more between Shane and me than whips and
safewords. And I want to give whatever that is a fair chance. I can’t do that
if I’m seeing other men.”

“I think you’re making a mistake.”

“It’s my life. My mistake.”

“Fair enough.”

“Now, can we move on? I’d like to get my shopping done
early. Then, maybe we can do something fun. We haven’t gone biking in a while.
It’s free. I’m broke.”

Jill grimaced. “No leads on a job yet?”

“Nothing.”

“Wow. I wish I could help.”

“No worries. I’ll find something.”

I was a damn good liar. Damn good.

* * * * *

That night, Jill and I hobbled into the new restaurant on Ford Avenue, Delo’s. Thanks to our afternoon activities, which included a three hour bike
excursion, our legs were as limp as overcooked pasta. As we entered, we found
out Delo’s was a nice restaurant, the kind of place people like Shane would
dine at. Not an underpaid secretary on a counting-every-penny tight budget.

“I’m thinking we should go somewhere else,” I whispered as
the hostess, dressed in a black skirt and jacket and white shirt, eyeballed us.

“No, we’re staying.”

“But—“

“My treat.”

“But—“

“No arguments,” Jill snapped.

“But—“

“Shhh!” She shushed me, grinning. “How many times have you
bought me dinner?”

“A few,” I answered. That was a lie. We both knew it. But I
didn’t like to rub things in people’s faces, especially Jill’s. She was my best
friend, and I was hers. She’d hit a rough patch a while back when she was in
law school. I was glad to be able to help her through it. If the tables had
been turned (hopefully that wouldn’t be happening now) I knew she would’ve done
the same for me.

“It’s my turn to pay you back,” Jill whispered as she gave
me a don’t-argue-with-me squint.

The hostess stepped up, and, walking a little shakily, we
followed her. My gaze meandered through the restaurant’s chic interior. The
tables were widely spaced apart, covered with crisp white tablecloths. The
chairs, also white, had very high backs that provided a small measure of
privacy for diners. But as we moved through the space to our table, I could
still see many men, all decked in full business dress, including ties, and
women in dresses.

The hostess stopped at a table near the back of the open
space. “Is this okay?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” Jill said as she grabbed the back of one of the
chairs. “Thank you.”

“Your server will be with you shortly.” The hostess scurried
back to her station while Jill and I took our seats.

I scanned the area. “No menus.”

“The server will probably bring them. Or he might have to
recite the menu. I had lunch at a place this week that had no printed menu. The
wait staff had to recite it for every customer.”

I leaned toward her and whispered, “No menu means no
prices.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Looking a little too casual,
considering where we were, Jill sipped from her stemmed water glass.

I angled even closer. “Do you know something I don’t? Did
you win the lottery?”

“Um, well.” Jill’s lips twisted. “I did get a bit of a
raise.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Actually, I got a big raise. And a promotion.”
Grinning like a total goon, my bestie held up her glass. “You’re now looking at
the new partner at Schwartz and Eddings, soon to be Schwartz, Eddings and
Staton
.”

“Congratulations!” I lifted my glass, and we clinked them.
“To my bestie and her new position.”

“And to new opportunities for you,” Jill offered.

“Does that mean you have a lead on a new job for me?”

“No. I asked.” Jill’s smile faded. “They’ve already hired my
new assistant. Sorry.” She pulled a full pouty frown. “You know I would’ve
given you a good word if they hadn’t.”

“No biggie. Like I said, I’ll find something.”

Jack, our tuxedo-shirted waiter hustled over, beamed and
introduced himself before giving an Oscar worthy presentation of each menu
option. I was tempted to applaud when he was finished.

“Wow,” I said, “that was some performance.”

His beam brightened. “Thank you. Theater major.”

“I would never have guessed.” I looked to Jill, figuring I’d
let her order first and then get the same thing.

“I’ll take the beef medallions,” Jill said.

Jack nodded, looked to me.

“I’ll go with the same.”

“Would you like a wine list?” he asked.

“We’ll take a couple of glasses of your house red,” Jill
said.

“Very good.”

And off he went.

Jill grinned. “I just ordered a meal without knowing the
price, and I don’t care.”

“I’m very happy for you.”

While we ate our meals, Jill jabbered about her new job. I’d
never seen her so excited before. Even though my future wasn’t looking nearly
as bright as hers, I was genuinely thrilled for her.

At one point, Jill looked at me, guilt dimming the sparkles
in her eyes. “I need to shut up. Here I am, going on and on and you’re wondering
when you’ll get your next paycheck.”