Wishes (9 page)

* * * *

Graham fought the urge to spank her. He’d be smacking her ass ten times a day for the rest of their lives at the rate she pushed him. And he didn’t really want her any other way. He felt badly that he had needed to ask about the birth control, but he couldn’t let it go. Damn it, he was freaking possessive of her.

“Sorry, honey,” he apologized. He never apologized to women. What did that make him? How was she changing him?

“That’s what I mean about not knowing one another,” Kennedy complained as she took advantage of his change in demeanor to slip off his lap and find her deodorant and fragrance. She turned to face him as he avidly watched her get ready.

“We should have a date later and talk,” she suggested.

Graham mentally ran through his evening schedule. “I work at ten, honey, so I’m yours until maybe nine.”

“Your job is something we are definitely going to talk about, Graham.”

Graham kept his mouth shut. He knew a challenge when he heard one, but now was not the time. Besides, when had he ever watched a woman dress before? He wished she would leave the panties off, but that wouldn’t be appropriate. Kennedy was so cute when she hitched that little skirt up and it flirted around her knees. The high-necked sleeveless blouse seemed a bit schoolmarmish to him, but then he realized she had to cover some marks he had left on her. No wonder she was a cranky pants this morning. And she said she wasn’t a morning person. Well, that would work because he usually didn’t get to bed until dawn or later. But then he might want a piece before he went to sleep. Crap. When would they fit in all the training and the sex if she got a day job? She really needed to consider Patrick’s job offer. Then they would work the same hours, and he could use the club to train her. Except she might get it into her head to want to train him. That freaking fifteen percent.

He watched Kennedy add silver earrings and bangles to her outfit and step into her pumps. She sashayed into the bathroom and covered her blouse with a towel. Graham saw that she toned down her red face with foundation and a light powder and added a touch of mascara and lipstick. She looked healthy, like someone who spent a lot of time outdoors, and not like a pale damn Yankee or someone who forgot how lethal too much sun could be. She then wound her hair up into a relaxed knot and skewered it near the top of her head with what looked like two chopsticks. Graham was fascinated.

“What about breakfast?” Graham asked her from his relaxed position in her bathroom doorway. “You look really nice, by the way.”

“Thanks. I’ll grab a coffee and something down the block before I catch a cab, babe,” she told him. “Lock up, okay? I’ll meet you at Ringo’s at six.”

Kennedy drifted her lips across his, snagged her bag, and was out the door before Graham could get past being called babe. As an endearment, well, he had hoped for something a bit more manly. But he would take babe the first time she had referred to him as anything other than Graham. Or asshole. He thought he’d grab a few more hours of sleep before heading to the club to change and get ready for their date. He felt a bit of trepidation but was really quite thrilled at the idea. Pussy whipped.

Chapter Six

Graham surveyed the scene in front of him and worked hard at keeping his focus. He scowled anyway. The sub was gorgeous in her submission, her skin pinkened and glowing from the flogger. She had slipped into sub space some time ago, and her Dom was now using a vibrator to full effect. Graham should have been enjoying her cries of ecstasy and looking forward to her blowing him while her Dom fucked her from behind, but instead he was flaccid and bored. Oh, he’d done his part well. He had coached David through the process in order to provide the best experience for both him and Lana and would ensure Lana had an additional orgasm before the night was over, but he simply wasn’t interested and engaged the way he should be. David already knew that Graham wouldn’t be touching Lana for any personal sexual purpose and had accepted it with only a lift of one eyebrow. David was new at BDSM, but he liked to share, and so did Graham until Kennedy crashed into his life. If the wench had kept their date tonight, or last night, seeing as it was now three o’clock in the morning, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this state of mind. His cock filled at the thought of Kennedy, and he recalled her phone message.

“Hi, babe. I’m leaving this at the club because
someone
didn’t leave me a contact number, so hope you get it. It’s Kennedy.” Like he wouldn’t know that voice. The call had been forwarded from Patrick’s office, accompanied by an innocent sounding but teasing introduction from the woman who managed their answering service.

“I can’t make our date. I’ve been called back for a re-interview and can’t miss it. And Graham? Don’t go all dominant on me. I’m not avoiding you. Call me.”

Kennedy already had a window into him. She knew he would not take rejection well and wanted to make sure he was aware that this was a situation in which she couldn’t put him first. If she worked for Patrick, then this kind of thing wouldn’t happen. He was going to talk with her about it as soon as he finished his shift. She might not be a morning person, but he needed to see her and maybe convince her that morning exercise in the form of strenuous sexual activity was a good idea.

* * * *

Kennedy woke to the sounds of her doorbell. Someone was leaning on it. She struggled groggily out of bed and padded down the hall. Who else could it be other than Graham? She missed him. The re-interview had been a bust, and so she had spent a quiet evening alone reflecting on him and wishing she hadn’t cancelled their date. But missing him didn’t necessarily counteract her irritation at being woken up at the crack of dawn. The sun wasn’t even up yet. Although Graham probably was. She checked through the peephole, and there he was, glowering at the door. She threw the bolts and let him in.

Graham had her wrapped up before the door closed and was kissing her like he hadn’t seen her for a week. Kennedy couldn’t breathe, and her knees literally buckled. He released her and scooped her up, striding to the bedroom where he stripped her of her nightshirt and pushed her onto her back on the bed. He had his shirt partway off before he descended on her pussy, and Kennedy nearly screamed at the sensation of his wet mouth and stabbing tongue. She was now fully awake and decided he was much better than even a dark coffee laced with cream to get her juices flowing in the morning. Pun intended. She raced to orgasm, and he scrambled up her body to shove himself deep inside of her. Oh no, no, no, no. She pushed at his shoulders.

“Graham, stop!” she nearly yelled.

He froze and lifted his head to look down at her, his eyes silver with arousal, the skin taut over his cheekbones.

“Condom, Graham, for God’s sake,” she ordered.

* * * *

Graham rolled off her and fished in his pants pocket. He hadn’t even taken his pants off, just pulled his cock out. This was insane. He had thought about her all night and all the way over. His foot had been like lead on the gas pedal, and he was lucky to avoid being pulled over. All he could think of was claiming his woman and control had gone out the window. Insane. He sat up and faced away from her, trying to breathe through his arousal and calm down. Her hand stroked down his back, and he shivered at her touch.

“Fuck me, Kennedy,” he apologized gruffly. “You make me crazy.”

“Well, you make me crazy, too, babe, so suit up and get back to where you left off.”

He sheathed himself and climbed between her legs. All thoughts of a fast, dynamic rut dissolved before the look on her face. She looked beautiful, her hazel eyes smoldering that sandy gold, dark hair spilling across the pillow. But the best of all was the wide, welcoming smile she gave him. Graham pushed up inside of her and held himself above her, watching her, locking eyes with her, as he thrust slowly. They built together, and when Graham saw her face tighten and felt her begin to ripple around him, he picked up the pace and swiveled his hips. He groaned his release as Kennedy whimpered hers. He sank down on top of her, and she enveloped him with her warmth. Again, it felt like coming home.

Kennedy finally slipped her legs from around his waist and dropped her arms to the mattress. “I need to breathe, Graham. Get some sleep.”

Graham rolled off of her. He disposed of the condom and then pulled her against his chest. He spooned into her back and dropped into slumber.

When he next opened his eyes, Kennedy’s side of the bed was empty and sunlight flooded through a crack in the blinds. It was nearly one o’clock, and he felt as though he had had the best night’s sleep of his life. His only regret was that he hadn’t woken to find his woman beside him. He wanted to be able to pull her on top of him and have her ride him as a wakeup call or maybe suck him with her luscious mouth. Graham thought he would never get tired of making love to her. It felt like making love because it didn’t feel like fucking, although there would be lots of makeup sex, too, what with her attitude. He swung out of bed and went prowling for her. A note on the counter held in place by a little dog figurine caught his eye.

Shit, they were like ships passing in the night. The sex was great, but he found himself really needing to talk to Kennedy and get to know her. He wanted to know about childhood and her favorite foods, where she wanted to travel, everything. He found a casserole in the fridge as promised and shoved it in the oven. His little woman was domestic, too. He found he liked being taken care of. Subs owed their Doms, too. It wasn’t just about Doms giving. Not that Kennedy was his sub. She was nobody’s sub, and he would do well to remember that. But so far he was adjusting okay even if he really did have plans to try and train her. Graham went off to shower and shave, finding the bag he had dropped just inside the door that morning placed at the foot of the bed. He was glad she hadn’t unpacked for him, but that seemed like Kennedy. She respected his space just as she expected him to respect hers. Another adjustment, and there was going to come a time when he and she would butt heads, but probably only in the bedroom. Probably.

Graham sat at the breakfast bar and ate the most incredible egg and bacon casserole he had ever tasted. He wasn’t sure he had ever had the dish before, but it tasted amazing. It had everything in it from bread to eggs to bacon and cheese. Kennedy had added some kind of spice he couldn’t identify, but he sure liked it. She had set the coffeemaker up, too, and he felt her presence even if she wasn’t there. He had cleaned up after his late breakfast and was making the bed when he heard the apartment door open and two thuds. That would be Kennedy kicking off her shoes. How he knew the sound he wasn’t sure, but there you had it.

Kennedy stood in the bedroom doorway. “Too bad you wasted your time making the bed, babe,” she purred as she unbuttoned yet another high-necked blouse. “We’re just going to mess it up again.”

Graham watched as she let the blouse float to the floor and Kennedy’s breasts, covered in a scrap of lace, came into view, decorated with whisker burn and love nips. His cock filled instantly. Almost lazily she popped the front clasp of the bra and her breasts spilled out, the bra then joining the blouse. She unzipped the skirt and it slithered down to pool at her feet. She stepped out of it and walked to him, taking her hair down as she did so. Holy shit, she had no panties on, and her mound was bare. She had something in her hand, and as she bumped into his chest, she raised that hand to dangle a bottle in front of his face.

“See this, babe?” She nearly growled. “This is a lotion that’s supposed to cool and treat tender skin after waxing. I bought a bottle, Graham, because I had my pussy waxed just for you and I fucking well have super tender skin!! You had better fix it.”

Graham absolutely didn’t laugh. He put that chuckle far away in the recesses of his brain. He didn’t know the ins and outs of waxing but suspected it was a little uncomfortable, and if he laughed or did anything else inappropriate, then Kennedy might conduct a little wax experiment on him. He did his own manscaping with a razor and moustache scissors. He very gently took the bottle from Kennedy’s hand and carefully read the label.

“Lie back on the bed, honey,” he urged, “and I’ll get a towel for you.”

When he came back with a towel, Kennedy was flat on her back in the middle of the queen-sized bed, her legs spread and well apart, her feet flat on the mattress. Her head was elevated on two pillows as she tried to peer between her legs.

“I couldn’t even put my underwear back on, Graham,” she whined.