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“Just look at the mess you’ve made!”
I walk around to face him, holding out my hand for him to see it for himself. He licks his lips in disgusting anticipation. Slowly, I raise my eyebrow at him. He knows what I expect. I know what he wants.
“Lick it clean!” I shove my hand toward his lips.
He hungrily trails his tongue across my vinyl-gloved hand and draws the white sticky fluid into his mouth.
“That’s right, you fucking love eating your cum, don’t you? You’re a sick bastard who gets off eating his own spunk.”
He pauses and then gazes into my eyes. “Yes, Mistress.”
He swallows and then finishes cleaning off my hand. Once he’s done, I pull down on the lever above me, releasing the tension in the chain. His tired arms drop in front of him, and he lets out a loud relieved breath. I unfasten the harness from my waist and let it fall to the floor. He looks at me in confusion when I don’t unshackle his arms from the chain.
“Did I say you were done? What about my boot? Or were you planning on leaving this mess for me to have to clean up?”
“N-no, Mistress.” He stammers uncertain of what is next. I lift my leg and prop my boot on the bench in front of him.
“Lick it clean!”
He opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue to lap up his mess. He’s slow, too slow. The more I stand there watching him, the more impatient I become.
“All of it! I don’t want to see one fucking spot of your filthy cum on my shoe.”
He picks up his pace, devouring the last of his release. Smugly, I turn and begin removing my vinyl gloves, one by one, off my arms. Just for my added amusement, I bring them down hard and fast against his bare back.
“Hurry up! I don’t have all fucking day!” I turn my ankle to give him better access and he scrambles to finish the job.
Oh, how I love watching them obey me.
I carefully inspect the area of my shoe, looking for any spot he may have missed. Once I see that it meets my approval, I drop my foot and lean towards him, patting him on the cheek.
“Good boy. Did you learn your lesson?”
“Yes.”
I bring my hand hard across his face. “Yes, what?” I shout.
“Yes, Mistress. Thank you.”
The red light flashes in the room, signaling our session is almost over. I walk over to the table and retrieve the black sharpie Bret had left for me. My face widens in an evil grin as I lift the plastic up to my mouth and pull the top off with my teeth. I spit it out on the floor and move to step behind him, dragging the tip of the marker down his spine. With careful precision, I complete my artwork. When I’m done, I pucker my lips together and blow across his skin.
Like any artist, I step back and admire my masterpiece, a large heart with the words, I Love Cock, written between it.
I give his ass one last hard slap and throw down the sharpie on the floor beside of him, leaving him naked and chained for Bret to find him.
“Come play again soon.”
In a unique new way, I’d just given him the most valuable reward of all…Shame.
Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PAYNE
Breathless, I lean against the wall and stare down at my throbbing, right hand. Bright red blood warmly trickles from my knuckles, down the side of my forearm. I don’t know how long I’d been at it, but I managed to punch holes in half of the upstairs bedroom wall. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to calm myself down. The hostile feeling continues to build and build until I think I’m going to explode. I can’t stop it. Just the thought of her working at that club makes my blood boil.
How could I have been so off about her?
The entire drive back to the house, I’d taken my rageful anger out on the inside of my new truck, busting the top part of my dashboard with my fist in the process. Even now, I don’t know why I’m so mad. Devyn is just another beautiful woman. I can’t lose myself in all of this. I want to blame her for everything, but honestly, I’m the only one at fault. I chose to play this game and I’m paying dearly for it.
The longer I stand here in this hot room, the more I think about her. The thought of her taking her clothes off in front of other men fuels my anger once more. Right now, all I want to do is get in my truck, drag her out of that club, and punish her.
“Goddamn it!” I throw one last punch into the crumbling sheetrock.
Bracing myself against the window frame, I stare out across the road, focusing intently on the tiny house. Like the others on the street, it, too, is pitch dark at this late hour. Devyn’s car is still obviously missing from the driveway. It’s only 2 A.M. Undoubtedly, she’ll be at that club for a long while still. Most of those places are open until the early hours of the morning, which makes this little stakeout even more insane.
I blow out a heavy, exasperated breath and peel back the paper from the tall bottle of cheap whiskey I’d purchased at an all night liquor store, just down the road. I’d wanted a more expensive brand that the store doesn’t carry. This will have to do, I suppose. At this point, alcohol is alcohol.
I twist off the black cap and throw up my arm, happily welcoming the wonderful, warm burn as it rushes down my throat. Desperate to feel the effects sooner; I take another long swig, before dropping my hand to my side. I’ve never allowed myself to get this worked up over a woman, a complete stranger, at that. Somehow, someway, Devyn’s making me weak and vulnerable; two things I simply cannot become. My head has to be in the game, not playing it. I’ve got to end all of this… fast.
Still wrangling with my pissy mood, I push off the window and drop down to the floor. The full potency of the alcohol still hasn’t quite hit me, frustrating me even more. I hate to feel. I need to be numb. It’s the only way to survive this wretched life. Propping my head back against the wall behind me, I turn back the bottle and guzzle a huge mouthful of whiskey. The quicker I get drunk, the better.
The screeching sound of a car door shutting awakens me from my drunken slumber. Rubbing my eyes, I struggle to blink away my blurred vision and stand. I grab my head and wince at the intense pain radiating through my skull. My throat is so fucking dry that it hurts to even swallow. When I do, I grimace at the wretched taste that is saturated on my tongue. It’s as if I’ve licked the bottom of a sewer.
Jesus! It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten this wasted. Disoriented, I hold on to the wall to steady myself, but the room seems to spin faster and faster. It takes some work, but somehow I manage to find my balance enough to turn my attention back across the street.
Instead of wearing the tight dress she left in, Devyn’s now dressed in a pink tank top and black stretch pants. Her long, wavy hair is pulled back, fashioned in a loose ponytail, enough that I can see her face. The heavy makeup is now completely gone, making me smile at how naturally stunning she is without it. The startling transformation makes it so hard to believe what I’d seen earlier. She looks so young and innocent this way, so much more breathtaking.
As she turns toward the house, something seems to catch her attention. Opening the back door, she leans in and pulls out a stuffed animal from the backseat. Instead of heading on inside, she drops her purse to the ground and hangs her head, bracing herself against the side of the car for support.
An unfamiliar feeling of concern grows stronger. I need to know if she’s all right. I try to look at her face but from where she is standing, I can only see the back of her. She wraps her hands around her trembling body and cries. Even in my half-drunken state, I feel something I wasn’t prepared to feel. Pity. This definitely isn’t the same girl who I saw walk in that club earlier tonight.
She lifts her face up and wipes her eyes with the back of her hands before facing my direction. I study her changing expressions closely. Every single detail of her sad face only feeds my fascination more. I want to lick those salty tears off her gorgeous face.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Once she’s compo
sed herself, Devyn unlocks the front door and disappears into the darkness of the house. Throwing back the drape on the scope, I drop back down to the floor and settle back onto the small pallet I’d made. With the adrenaline rushing through me, my body is quickly sobering up. I glance over at the empty bottle of whiskey sitting next to me, wishing I’d bought two of them instead.
The intense humidity in the night air is causing sweat to pour down my back. I lift my shirt up over my head and toss it beside me, hoping to cool down. Rolling back onto my back, I throw my hand over my forehead and try to force my mind to stop thinking about everything, about her. But it’s proving to be much harder than I’d imagined. The morning sun is peeking into the room when sleep finally overtakes my troubled mind.
Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
HONEY
Sometimes I don’t know how to feel anymore. It gets very hard switching emotions back and forth to become someone different; to become something I’m not. It’s beyond exhausting living this way. Little by little, I feel myself crumble to the point where I’m not sure how much more I can take before I break.
As much as I love the thrill that dominating men gives me, it steals a piece of the good part of my life each and every time. It’s no longer a balancing act between my two worlds, but rather a constant struggle to keep one from overtaking the other. Deep down inside, it terrifies me to know how fast everything is spiraling out of my realm of control.
When I walked out of the room in Ultimate Climax, I was high on the power. For a while, the feeling had lasted, but then on my way home, I could feel my body crashing, hard and fast. What once was a pleasure has now become a problem. One, I’m not sure has an easy solution to it.
I don’t know who I’m trying to fool. No matter what I do, the pain is always there. The memories won’t go away, nor does the fear of being found. I know as long as Broderick is alive, my life will remain this way.
I’d thought I’d run from my past, but the ghosts still haunt me no matter where I am.
Quietly, I tiptoe down the hall, careful to avoid the loud creaky wooden plank in front of my room. Kason’s door is slightly open, so I ease my way into his room while hugging the stuffed toy he’d left in my car. Seeing it tonight, in the backseat, had been the last straw. It had opened a dam of emotions I fight so hard to hold back.
I can’t help but smile as I gaze down at him sleeping so peacefully in his bed. The shapes of the moon and stars illuminating through his spinning lampshade slowly dance across his sweet face. I sit down beside him on his bed and pull the covers up over his little body. He never fails to kick them off every night, in his sleep.
For a while, I just sit there, running my fingers through his hair and watch his chest slowly rise and fall. It’s mind blowing at how fast he is growing up. Next Saturday will be his fourth birthday and it seems like he was born just yesterday. Time tends to flash by when we are trying to enjoy happy times, yet it drags on to torture us through the rough ones. Realizing it’s getting close to dawn, I stand and lean over to place a kiss on his forehead.
“I love you, baby boy.” I whisper before tiptoeing back out of his room.
Once I’m changed for bed, I slide beneath my covers and settle back against my pillow. Like always, I fight the exhaustion with everything in me. I’m too afraid of facing the monster that’s waiting for me when I close my eyes; the monster, I will never be free from.
After what happened last night, I’m relieved to have tonight off. Since next Saturday is Kason’s birthday, Mike has let me swap my schedule around a bit. Next week will be a long one, but well worth it to be with him on his big day.
I peep in the oven and inhale the delicious smells of chocolate, floating towards me. I’d decided to make a quick batch of cookies while Kyra and Kason ran to the grocery store to pick up a few more things for the barbeque. If they are here when I cook them, there usually isn’t enough cookie dough left to bake. Turning the knob off, I grab for the potholder and reach in to pull them out of the oven, not noticing that my grip isn’t good.
“Shit!” I scream, dropping the pan on the stovetop in front of me. I quickly dart over to the kitchen sink and turn the cold water on to run over my burned finger. Frustrated, I blow the loose strands of hair away from my face. Some days I’m such a klutz.
My eyes dart up to peer out the window just in enough time to see a glimpse of the new neighbor across the street. I’d seen the realtor take down the sign this morning and had been curious who was moving into the place. I stretch up on my tiptoes to see if I can see more of him, but from where he’s standing, I can only see the back of his head.
Turning off the water, I reach over and dry my hand with the dishtowel. The burn is barely even noticeable now. As I back look up, I see him completely for the first time. His dark t-shirt tightly hugs the front of his broad, muscular frame. Large tattoos seem to cover both of his arms, but I can’t make out exactly what they are. Since his black baseball cap is pulled down, I can’t see too much of his face, but judging by the shape of his jaw and mouth, I have no doubt he’s quite good looking.
Once he opens the tailgate of his truck, he leans in to reach for the boxes in the back, causing his toned calf muscles to flex. My eyes divert upwards to the way his tan cargo shorts hug his immaculate shaped ass. Strangely, I find myself flushing.
I may have written off men, but I’m certainly not blind. Any woman would think he’s hot. And, judging by the looks of him, I’m sure he’s used that to his advantage. I loathe men like him. Most all of them are disgusting pigs that thrive on having their ego stroked. There’s no doubt in my mind that, wherever he goes, there’s women falling all over themselves to get to him. One thing is for sure, I won’t be one of them.
Without warning, the back door suddenly flies open, hitting the wall with a loud thud. I’d been so wrapped up in staring, that I hadn’t even noticed Kyra pull up in the driveway. When I turn around, I find her leaning up against the door, grocery bags in hand, practically panting.
Yep, she’s definitely seen the new neighbor.
Rolling my eyes, I turn back around to lay the hand towel down. Kason runs in from the outside, immediately bolting for the cookies on the stove.
“Freeze, mister!” I warn with a grin. He halts on the spot and looks back to me, those innocent eyes pleading.
“Can’t I have just one? Please, Mommy?” I admit it. It’s so damn hard telling this kid, no. But sometimes, I have to.
“No, baby. Not before we eat.”
“Aw, man!” I can’t help but giggle at him.
“Go on and play, sweetie. It won’t be long before we eat, and you can have some then.”
I kiss him on the top of his head. Making loud car noises, he runs along into the other room. When I turn around, Kyra’s leaned over the sink, looking out the window with her mouth wide open. Smirking, I lean my back against the counter and cross my arms at her.
“You know, it’s a good thing there’s a sink below you. I’ve never seen you drool so much before.”
“Have you seen that man? Sweet Jesus! I think even my twat’s drooling.”
“Eww! TMI!”
“Oh come on! What is wrong with you? Do I need to take you to get your eyes checked?” Kyra lifts her finger and points out the window. “That… is perfection. Art.”
I shake my head at her and laugh.
“You’ve lost your damn mind.” I joke walking back over to the counter, sorting through the bags she’s brought in.
“Oh no. Look, the poor baby is sweating now. I think he needs something to drink.” She grins and arches her eyebrow. “Why don’t you take him something?”
“Um, no. If you want to save him from dehydration, then you do it.”
She lets out a loud, frustrated huff as she reaches up into the cabinet above and retrieves a glass. As she’s filling it up with ice and sweet tea, she begins her regular lecture.
“You seriously need to get laid, Hon. Twat c
obwebs are never good.”
“Tell you what, you worry about your twat and I’ll worry about mine, okay?”
She smiles before turning to walk out the door. Amused, I watch her twist her ass all the way across the street. When she steps into his yard, he stops and turns to face her. Kyra hands him the glass and he takes it from her hand. Immediately, she begins playing with her long hair, an obvious sign that she’s flirting. Her finger points in the direction of our house. What the hell are they talking about? He looks down at his watch and then finishes the drink, handing her the glass back with a nod.
