Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (33 page)

They were both silent for a few minutes. Finally, Christy spoke, “Why can’t you just enjoy it?” Her face was so sad, so heartbroken for me.

Jason put a hand on her, stopping her from going on. He knew. “Because nothing good lasts, Christy.”

She stood and crossed the space to me. She sat in my lap and spoke as she hugged me. “It can’t if you don’t think it can.” She kissed my forehead as she stood, then left the room.

I looked up at Jason. He didn’t say anything, but then jumped up and got a drink. As he sat back down, he said, “Is it Stacy or your parents?”

I was over it, exhausted with it, pissed that there was even a possibility that those things could still be impacting my life. I scrubbed my hand over my face. “I don’t know and, honestly, I don’t want to know. I just want to get fucked up or get lost in fucking someone else up.”

“All right, man.” He left it alone and I knew he understood. He had been around enough to have seen my parents and was definitely around when shit went down with Stacy. He took a breath and knocked back the rest of his scotch. “Wanna spar?”

“No, Guillermo beat the shit out of me since you weren’t there this morning. Anyway, I got some shit to do before we go out tonight.”

“What are you doing for the last night in town?”

“The Window.”

I didn’t miss the look of concern on his face when I said it. I just chose to ignore it.

I called Seraphim on the way home and arranged another play date, discussed a little of what I wanted to do. She was happy to make her slave available to me, laughing at my plans. A small war of warning and pride went off in my brain that she would approve of anything I was planning. I chose to laugh at it, push through until there really was a problem. Christy and Jason meant well, but there wasn’t a problem until Leda or I felt there was.
Right?

Chapter Thirty

Leda

Air,
Sexy Boy

Needing to do something with my anxious energy until he came back for me, I called Tiffany.

She answered, a little breathless. “Hey, girl!”

“Ummm, hi? Am I interrupting something?” I laughed.

I heard the smile in her voice. “No, I’m on a treadmill, not a man, unfortunately.”

“You want to try to hook up while I’m home?”

“When will you be in Chicago?”

“I get in tomorrow, and I think I’m going to DC for New Years with Xander.”

She put on a fake snotty tone. “Ooooohhhhhh—hoooooo. Someone is hot shit.”

“Shut up, bitch. I need some girl time. This man is crazy.”

“Yeah? Tell me something titillating. My sex life is just about nonexistent right now. This new job is too time consuming.”

I paused, not wanting to talk about it, but needing to vent some of the pent up energy his goodbye had left me with. “So, I’m just gonna be blunt, okay?”

“I never want anything else.”

“So, he just dirty face-fucked me and left. And…I’m not allowed to get myself off before we go out tonight.” There was a pause in which neither of us spoke, so I continued. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

She cleared her throat. “Oh, girlfriend. I’m not freaked out. That’s hot as hell. But only under one condition—he has to let you come sometime tonight. Too much delayed gratification and he just starts to seem ungrateful.”

“Yeah…he usually doesn’t leave me hanging. But he did it once. Oh
God
, that was the worst night.”

Her voice got thick and purred through the phone. “Yeah?

I didn’t really want to get into a replay of our various sexual exploits and changed the subject a little. “The thing is, I just want to fuck with him tonight.”

We talked for a while more and she helped me formulate a good plan for the night. When we hung up, I had a few hours until he picked me up. I ran to the modestly sized mall in the area to get something fun at the lingerie store. I had almost settled on a very traditional get-up in royal purple—thigh highs with a garter, barely there panties and a demi-cup bra that I nearly spilled out of. But at the last moment I saw something more provocative. If he was going to push me, I was going to push right back.

I settled on a black leather miniskirt, cut like a school girl uniform skirt, with white thigh highs that laced up the back like a corset. On top, a white Oxford shirt, open to just past my plaid striped demi-cup bra. My hair was full and loose, my makeup very light, no jewelry. My shoes were stacked heels in the style of saddle shoes. The overall effect was innocence perverted.

I smiled at myself in the mirror while I got ready, feeling like I looked like someone’s dirty fantasy. Smiled wider when I realized it was my own.

Chapter Thirty-One

Xander

Cobra Starship,
Good Girls Go Bad

There was a warm spell and the air was brisk but not outright cold. I drove to her building, my mind racing with thoughts of her that tumbled over each other, mixed up with a low level dread I couldn’t shake.

She stepped out of her entrance as I parked in front of her building. I saw her but didn’t really see her, my mind still focusing on what was wrong. Not looking at what was
right
, right in front of me. I got out of the car and walked around the hood, intentionally clearing my mind to be fully present with her.

Any thoughts that weren’t completely cleared disappeared in a heartbeat when I looked up at her.
Oh fuck.

She wore a school girl outfit, white thigh high tights up to a little leather miniskirt, to a shirt that looked like it could have been her dad’s, tied around her waist and unbuttoned, with a peek-a-boo plaid bra. She even had the shoes right.

Oh goddamn it.

I stumbled a bit, my feet not working right, because all the blood in my body was screaming into my cock. She just looked like a little private school rich girl who was mad at her parents and out to make some bad decisions. I could be as bad as she needed me to be.

Mine, fucking mine, minemineminemineminemine.

I grabbed as I reached her, and held her neck still, tilting her head just right. I lowered my mouth to her and claimed her again. Just like earlier.
This is mine, goddammit.
It was primitive. I wanted to brand her, mark her, put a sign on her so everyone knew who she belonged to. I wanted to lock her in my apartment and never let her out again—just keep her there, tied up and waiting for me. I wanted to put a baby in her. I wanted her on a cellular level.

All the insanity of the last week, all my weird insecurities, my fucked up past… All of it burned away in my mind and there was only her and the shape of her ass under my hand, the soft press of her body against mine. Her yielding. And it was all that mattered.

I breathed against her hair for a moment, savoring the scent of her. And newly clean of mind, I let my muscles flex, felt my masculinity wash over me. I felt my need to control her. I wanted to look in her eyes and see it in them, see that she thought I was all-powerful.

I stepped back from her and took a slower look at her. A slow smile spread over my lips.
Point to you, little girl. You want to push me? Okay.
My cock swelled, thinking of her pushing me. My smile grew, earlier worries seeming unfounded now.

“I love this, but…little girl, it makes me want to tear it off you. I want to get your knees all dirty. Let’s go.” I pulled her along with me to the car.

Jason and Christy were already at the bar and dropped their jaws, faces slack with shock when we walked in. As we passed them, Christy mumbled something and they started laughing. We stopped to grab a drink from Frank, who tried so hard not to react to her attire that I couldn’t even get mad at him that he couldn’t stop himself from glancing down to her tits every third word.

The early crowd of blue collar regulars lined the walk to our booth.
Fuck, I might murder someone tonight.
I kept a hand on her, but everyone knew anyway. Wasn’t a bad idea to make sure there was no mistake.

We spent some time savoring our drinks, talking, trying to ignore the fucking blatantly sexual elephant in the room. Christy and Jason sat with us for a bit, not commenting on her clothes, but the mirth never left their eyes. Jason and I got up for another round and, when I looked back at Leda and Christy, they were laughing like they had been friends forever. And I wanted this forever, hanging with my best friends, my sexy-ass girl there tucked under my arm. I smiled, feeling better than I had all week.

“There it is,” Jason said, nudging my shoulder. “A smile.”

I smiled wider at him. “Yeah. Here I was thinking she wouldn’t push me and this is what I get.” I laughed. “Dude, she is so fucking perfect.”

“Why do you think she did it?”

“I have an idea. I think I might have left her a little frustrated this morning.” I chuckled a bit more, thinking I was going to love denying her orgasms, if this is what happened when I did.

As we walked back with the drinks, the girls erupted in laughter again. Jason sat next to Christy, pushing against her. “What are you two laughing about?”

She answered, “Well,
I
was laughing at how fucked these two are over each other. The funny thing is that Leda knows how fucked she is, but Xander, I don’t think you really grasp it yet.”

Leda flushed red, and I wondered how Christy could say I didn’t know after the conversations of the last week.

Either way, I smiled. “I think I have an idea.”

* * * *

When we got to the Window, Leda’s eyes shone with excitement and she didn’t notice the initial looks of speculation or the way I reacted to each predatory gaze in her direction. I guided her up the stairs to the loft, away from the majority of the crowd. Those people could fuck themselves.

Leda and I snuggled into a couch, across from Christy and Jason, who were doing the same. I leaned back and took some slow breaths. Leda sat next to me quietly. After a few seconds though, we turned toward each other…and said nothing. It was awkward, and I groped around for something to say, but was cut off by Jason’s loud crack of laughter.

I looked toward him as he leaned over to me, yelling, “That’s just rude, man!” He kept laughing and rested back with Christy, who was wiping a tear out of her eye, a laugh still on her lips. I looked at them, thinking
what the fuck?

But Leda leaned into me, asking, “Did you ever get in touch with Mistress Seraphim? Are we meeting up with them?” She looked anxious.

I nodded at her, not offering comfort or reassurance at first. “Not till later though.” I took a breath and decided that it was my last night with her before break—fuck being the cold-ass Dom the whole time. “Come here, little girl.”

She snuggled into my side, under my arm, and I sighed contentedly. I just let myself enjoy her presence, the warm pressure of her against my side, the sweet look of fear mixed with excitement when she spoke to me.

I wanted to feel her skin under my fingers and dropped my hand to trace the bared skin of her back, between her shirt and skirt. She came alert, tension building her muscles, breath coming deeper.

I left it like that, not offering anything more, just to see what she’d do. And my little slut pushed her tits into my side, head tilted up toward me.
She wants it. Good.

I cocked an eyebrow at her with the look of ‘don’t fucking test me, little girl’. I set my Coke on the low glass table in front of us and shifted sideways on the couch, looking right at her. I held her chin when she tried to look down because she instinctively knew she was in some trouble.

“Are you getting pushy, little girl?”

She saw the warning in my face when she tried to answer, because the words died on her lips. I nodded her head for her.

“What do you think I do to pushy little girls?” I was struck by how fucking brave she was to sit in front of me, not shrinking, not running away, when I went all cold and evil. I waited for her to answer.

She mumbled, too quiet to hear over the music, but her lips were readable. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You saw me take care of A.” She paled, eyes wide with fear and I wanted more of it. Her fear slithered over my brain like a drug. I wanted to lick it all up. I dropped my hand from her chin to her throat and pushed her back against the couch. Held her there as I leaned forward, so my lips brushed her ear. “Did you think dressing like this would make me forget who or what I am and who and what you are?”

The gravel-growl in my voice got harder as I spoke and I felt her pulse leap under my fingers. She started to tremble, but didn’t pull away. This was teetering on the edge of bad. I knew it and pushed it anyway, lightly shaking her by her neck and raising my voice, “Did you?”

She yelped, “No!” Her breathing was erratic, irregular, and she pushed against my arm, yelling, “I just thought it would be sexy and fun. Fuck, Xander. Yellow!”

I dropped my hand, surprised, but a small voice in the recesses of my mind was not surprised at all. But, she started crying and I hadn’t expected that. I leaned over her again, raising my hand to her face and she flinched away. Ice pick in my heart.

That was it, the moment. The thing I needed to see. It was the consequence of how I was treating her. It wasn’t anything other than rational on her part. I fucked up and now she didn’t want me near her.

She yelled at me, “No! Just give me a fucking minute. I don’t know how to be whatever it is you want me to be. I don’t want to do this with you if it isn’t going to be fun for both of us.”

“Shit, me neither, honey
.
” I pulled her next to me. “Come here, little girl. Shhh.” I murmured into her hair. “You’re perfect. You did exactly what I expect of you.”

When she calmed, I went on, “I want you to push back against me. I want you to be you.”

Her muscles went tight. This was the mindfuck of it and I knew it.
Be you. Don’t change, but I’ll punish you for it. Give me a reason to hurt you.
I tried to soften it a little, wanting to protect her. “But, sweetheart, what did you think would happen with this outfit tonight?”