Another way (26 page)

His hand changed shape inside me. It was only when I felt the tip of his thumb at my entrance that I figured out what he was attempting to do. Then I really did clamp down in panic. I was glad for the blindfold then—I didn’t want to see his disappointment when he realized I couldn’t do this for him.

“You can do this,” he said, reading my thoughts. “Just find that place again.”

It took some time, and some work, but I got there. He never stopped moving his fingers and gently teasing the rim of my asshole with his thumb, so when I reached that place he just needed to push forward a little bit and, completely to my surprise, it worked in with only the tiniest amount of pain. Less pain than when he fucked me.

Deep breaths and that headspace where I wanted nothing more or less than to please him let me move past the next hurdle, which was him pushing gently further inside, over the widest part of his knuckles where I might have winced a little bit, but the headspace felt too good and pulled me back under before I had a chance to contemplate it.

Master turned his hand just slightly, and I felt my ass close over his wrist. His whole hand was inside me. His fingers were still stretched out and long, grazing against my prostate, and he sighed softly and might have said “breathe,” but I didn’t hear it properly. When his fingers curled, my cock sat upright and started to pay attention again, and by the time I could feel his fist clenched inside me, I was building to another orgasm.

“Jesse,” Master said slowly, authoritatively. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Yes, Master. Can I see?”

“There’s enough slack on that rope for you to be able to reach up and pull the blindfold off,” he said in the same measured voice. I followed his instruction, awkwardly bending one hand up behind me to give the other room to stretch up to my face, while Master kept his hand absolutely still.

My eyes readjusted to the light and focused immediately on his face. Fuck, he was beautiful.

Clearly this was costing him a huge amount of concentration. His reddish hair was darkened with sweat and stuck to his forehead, his T-shirt had been discarded at some point so his chest was beautifully bare, and his eyes were dark with passion.

And his hand.
Fuck
. It was inside me. Seeing it and feeling it together brought about a new intensity of pleasure. Slowly, so slowly I had to make sure it was real, his hand started to move. Over long minutes he built up a rhythm of measured thrusts, twists, and pulls that had me writhing again; the rules hadn’t changed, though, and those movements caused him to stop. Only when I was truly submissive, giving him only my body and everything that came with it, would he move.

This time when I came, it was actually the most intense orgasm of my life. Which I would never have thought possible, since I had already orgasmed once in the session. I was too far gone to ask for permission, to warn him, or even to make any noise as his knuckles gently massaged my prostate, and I kept coming, waves and waves of it, over and over.

I knew how to relax to let him pull out slowly; he’d already taught me how to do that when he removed the beads. I was slowly coming back from the amazing rush, one that was both mental and physical—the best kind.

Master hadn’t come yet. With my eyes drifting half closed, he cleaned me up, then rose and came to stand at one side of my head.

“This won’t take long,” he said with a smirk.

His long, gorgeous cock had been removed from the confines of his leather pants and his beautiful, talented hand was jerking it in measured, practiced strokes. I looked up at him from under lazy eyelids and opened my mouth, my tongue licking my bottom lip in anticipation.

Some of his come hit my mouth. The rest painted my face, across my cheek and neck and chin. I licked off as much as I could and let him smear his leaking cock over the other cheek. It cooled as he released me from the bondage, and I made no effort to wipe it off.

My knees didn’t work when I attempted to stand. My fantasy of him carrying me down to bed came true, although a detour to the shower proved a wise choice. We were both covered in sweat and lube and come.

There was no doubt I was still floating from the intensity of the session as I curled myself around him in bed, shocked to note that we had been in the playroom for a number of hours as I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It didn’t matter. I was about to sleep in his arms. Nothing else mattered at all.

Chapter Nineteen

I
T
WAS
rapidly approaching 5 p.m., and time to go home, but I was far from finished with work. I had a stack of paperwork from suppliers to work through and complete before I could finish for the day.

There was a knock on the door to my office, and my co-manager stuck her head around the door.

“Hey, Esther,” I said with a sigh.

“There’s a rather ridiculously handsome man out front asking for you. Says his name’s Will.”

I grinned, despite my tiredness. “Would you let him in? I’m up to my eyeballs in shit right now.”

“Sure. Can I ask for his number?”

“No, Esther,” I laughed. She pouted and disappeared.

I tried to pay attention to my paperwork, but the knowledge that Will was somewhere in the building made my insides all squirmy. There was another light knock at the door, and I called out for them to “come in.”

He shut the door behind himself and walked over to me with the calm confidence of a man who knew he was fucking sexy.

“Hey,” I said, pulling his mouth down to mine for a long kiss.

“How’s it going, baby?” he murmured as we parted. He dropped lazy kisses down my neck.

“I’m being distracted,” I told him. “I can’t concentrate when you’re here.”

“I thought we could go see a movie or something before we go home,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed. “Give me… I don’t know. Twenty minutes or so, and I’ll try and get this finished up.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he pouted.

“I don’t know,” I said, pushing him away as he started to nibble my earlobe. “Go and talk to the guys out front or something. Serve some customers. They won’t bite.”

His teeth closed down on my ear in protest. “Can’t I stay with you?”

“If you stay, it’ll take me three times as long,” I told him. “Go on. Get out. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Will kissed me again and flicked my nipple rings through my shirt, then left with an evil sort of grin. Horny Will was my favorite Will. With that in mind, it took me half the time it normally would to scribble out invoices and sign my name to those that had been piled up on my desk for hours, waiting for me to get my shit sorted and get them done.

When I wandered back out to the shop floor, Will was sitting on the counter next to our cash register, waving a copy of what looked like Hemingway rather emphatically.

“No, no, you’re completely wrong,” he told a young woman, whom I had a strong, sinking feeling was a customer. “
The Old Man and the Sea
was his finest work by far. And don’t get me started on Atwood.
The Handmaid’s Tale
is overrated if you ask me. Read
Alias Grace
and then we can talk.”

“You’re full of shit,” the girl told him, pushing her long, dark hair back over her shoulder. “
Alias Grace
is awesome, obviously, it’s Atwood. But
Handmaid’s Tale
is a classic for a reason.”

Will shook his head. “I’m not letting you buy that unless you buy this too,” he said and started waving the copy of
The Old Man and the Sea
again. “It’s secondhand and only four bucks.”

“Fine,” she said. Smiling, she took the book from him and handed it over to Lauren behind the counter. “Is your number hidden in the front cover by any chance?”

My stomach clenched in jealousy at her flirting.

“I’m sorry, you’re very beautiful, but I’m gay,” Will said. He looked up and his eyes met mine. He smiled and the girl followed his gaze.

“Ah,” she said knowingly, handing over a bill to Lauren. “It’s always the way. It was nice talking to you.” She waved as Lauren handed her the bag and her change, and I followed her to the door, flipping the sign from “Open” to “Closed.”

Will was thumbing through another book when I crossed back to him. He’d tucked one foot up underneath him now. Lauren was snapping her gum and looking pissed off at the revelation that he was unavailable.

“You can go,” I said to her, and she nodded silently. “Have a good weekend.”

Another silent nod, and she was gone.

“The others are putting the last of the delivery out,” Will said from behind his book.

“Okay,” I said, planting myself in front of him. He reached out and ruffled his hand through my hair, a favorite gesture of his.

“You’re not supposed to argue with the customers,” I teased him.

“Hey, she bought the book, didn’t she?” he countered.

“Only because she wanted your number!”

“I didn’t give it to her though,” he said, closing the book and laying it down. His eyes darkened. “Kiss me.”

I leaned in and pecked him on the lips. “I’m at work,” I said softly, in apology. He smiled, understanding.

“What else needs to be done?” he asked.

“Just the delivery,” I said. “It shouldn’t take long.”

“I’ll help,” he said, hopping down off the counter.

“You don’t have to,” I started to protest, but he just patted my ass and told me to show him the way.

Esther and Megan had nearly finished by the time we joined them; we only had one display left to do of our “Titles to Watch.”

“Hey, Meg, this is Will,” I called over to my friend.

“Hi, Will,” she said with a smile, her blonde head popping up over a box of books.

“What do I need to do?” he asked.

“Here,” Esther said, gesturing to the half-finished display. “It’s easy; keep the middle tier the tallest then work down, like a step pyramid.”

“Okay, I think I can manage that,” he said.

Esther and Meg were among the few friends I had left who hadn’t been mutual friends of both Adele and I. They knew I’d broken up with her, but hadn’t ever pressed for the gory details. Even though we’d gone out a few times again with Brandon and Kelvin, I still didn’t quite count them as more than just Will’s friends. I was hopeful that, with time, that would change though.

“So, what are you guys up to after work?” I asked as I stacked chick-lit.

“I don’t know yet,” Meg said, stretching her arms out over her head to pop out her back. “Ashley should be picking me up. He might take me somewhere.”

“Pigs might fly,” Esther said innocently, then yelped as Meg threw a paperback at her.

“Hey! Ashley’s nice.”

“Compared to who? Hitler? Charles Manson?”

“Don’t,” Meg sulked. “He’s just… private, that’s all.”

“Private?” I teased her. “He doesn’t ever speak!”

“That’s because he’s so stupid he can’t string two words together,” Esther snorted.

“He’s pretty though,” Meg said with an evil smirk. “And he rides a motorbike.”

“Ah, I get it, it’s the leather pants, right?” Esther said.

Will looked up and caught my eye, and we both dissolved in laughter.

“What?” the girls demanded simultaneously.

“Nothing,” Will and I responded.

When the displays were nearly finished, Esther and I left Meg and Will to do the last few bits, and took the drawer from the cash register up to the office to cash up. It was a familiar rhythm, doing this with her; we’d each count then swap the coins and bills until everything was double-checked and signed off. It was an easy night—everything tallied up first time—so we kicked Meg and Will out and went about locking up.

“Jesse,” Esther said slowly as we collected our jackets.

“Mm?”

“Is Will your… um… partner?”

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “Sorry, I never meant to hide it from you. It’s just, I don’t know. Private.”

“That’s okay,” she said, returning my smile. “You’re so much happier than I’ve ever seen you before. He’s changed you.”

“Really?” We were hovering longer than necessary, wanting to finish our conversation before leaving.

“Oh yeah. I don’t think you were ever this happy before him. It was so obvious, but I didn’t know how to ask what had caused it.”

“I really love him,” I said seriously.

“Good. Make sure he knows it.”

“I will,” I promised.

L
AZY
, hazy, Sunday morning sex was followed by snuggling in bed with no plans, nothing to do except watch the changing expressions of the man I loved.

“Do you have plans for today?” I asked as I stroked his hair back from his face.

“I do, actually,” he said. Light was streaming in through a gap in the curtains, showing the highlights of red in his hair and the fine dusting of fuzz on his jaw.

“Yeah? Where are we going?”

He looked guilty for a moment, then leaned in to kiss me. “I said I’d go visit my parents.”

“Oh. Okay.” I attempted a shrug, but it was difficult while lying on my side.

“Would it be okay”—he squirmed as I ran my fingertips lightly down his side—“if I tell them about you?”