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I muttered the line out loud, and the words jagged in the back of my throat like broken shards of glass.
Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews
March, 24th.
Jonah and Leticia in a car accident.
Blurred movement burst from my left – a dark shape exploding through the intersection. Suddenly the air was filled with the scream of wailing tires and I had just an instant to reach out for Leticia before the vehicle collided into the side of the car with shattering force.
I heard Leticia scream. I saw Tiny in the driver’s seat, wrestling frantically with the steering wheel.
Time slowed…
And then stood still.
I felt myself shunted across the seat as the side of the car folded in. Metal screeched and the impact was like a hammer-blow. I felt the air driven explosively from my lungs and then my vision began to blur as warm fresh blood spilled down across my face and into my eyes.
I turned my head slowly. Leticia was a crumpled mess. She had been thrown head-first against the glass of the passenger door. She lay perfectly still in a tangle of arms and I heard my self cry out in pain and despair as I reached out for her and frantically groped to find a pulse.
There was none…
Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews
March, 24th.
Jonah’s thoughts on wanting to live.
I stared out through the office window and the night became dark until the room felt like a tomb.
The darkness – it had become my friend. It hid me away from the world, and left me alone with my misery. It wrapped itself over me like a thick veil and left me in peace to mourn a life I would never get to live.
I thought back bitterly over the opportunities I had missed, the chances that had passed me by.
The loves I had lost…
I shifted in the chair and the soft leather creaked and groaned. I sighed bitterly. I was old before my time – old and worn down by despair and regret and bitterness.
And I was angry.
I hated God. I hated fate. I hated everything that had conspired to rob me of a life.
I wanted to seize it back. I wanted one more chance to have what everyone else in the world had. The one thing I had lost.
I wanted a future…
Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews
March, 24th.
Drunk Dial Damnit..
“Jonah… Jonah… is that youuuu?”
I held the phone’s receiver hard against my ear and frowned. There was a riot of sound in the background, and overlaid above it was the slurred voice of a woman.
“This is Jonah Noble,” I said. “Who is this?”
There was a giggle of laughter and then a young woman’s voice came loud in my ear. “It’s me, you big boo-boo! It’s your luscious little Le-tit-ia,” she drew the sound of her name out so that the second syllable was emphasized. Then she burst out into a riot of laughter. “I just said tit!”
I felt my frown deepen, and my mood grew darker. “You’re drunk.”
I heard Leticia gasp, the sound like some naughty school-girl who had been caught smoking. “No!” she wailed. “I’m not drunk… Jonah, with a boner! I’m horny. I’m horny as hell and I want to lick my way from your toes to your… thingy!”
“Thingy?” I repeated. I switched the phone to my other ear. “You’re drunk,” I said again. “Call me back when you know how to talk dirty like a real woman, not a little child.”
I put down the phone.
And then I started laughing.
Rude Girl Blog
March, 24th.
Jonah and Leticia, training room, Leticia's first orgasm.
I felt Leticia arch her back in a voluptuous movement that drew the muscles of her back taut. I traced the line of her spine downwards, feeling each rounded knuckle of bone with my fingertips as though I were playing a musical instrument. Leticia shuddered beneath the soft touch of my hands and she tilted her hips forward and moved her weight so that I felt the press of her pelvis hard against the swelling flesh of my arousal.
I drew in a sharp breath, feeling myself pulse with life and Leticia gave a gasp that became a slow breathless little moan.
“You will come for me tonight,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
It was a command.
“You will give yourself to me willingly and you will do as I say.”
Leticia nodded. She pressed her naked breasts flat against my chest and her arms entwined around the back of my neck. Her soft lips parted and she hunted the flesh of my neck with her mouth as though suddenly ravenous. I threw my head back to the ceiling and felt the electric sensations of her mouth and tongue as it snaked down across the ridges of my chest, until I knew it was time. I knew instinctively that Leticia was ready…
Rude Girl Blog
March, 24th.
Leticia asking Jonah what he wants her to learn in the playroom.
“And so this is the room you would train me in?” Leticia asked. She had been here before, and yet she cast her eyes quickly across the bare simple furnishings to see if anything had changed.
It hadn’t. I had not been in this room since I had shown it to her.
“Yes,” I said simply. “This is where most formal training would take place. Training… and punishments…”
Leticia heard the ominous tone in my voice, yet she came forward boldly until she was standing in the middle of the floor, facing me. Six inches of space separated us.
She was close enough for me to reach out and caress.
Close enough for me to force to her knees.
Close enough for me to take her.
“What things would you teach me here? What kind of things do submissives learn?” she asked softly. Her voice had dropped a note and become subdued.
“Discipline,” I said.
“And what else?”
“Nothing,” I said. “In a BDSM relationship, discipline is everything. From it comes everything else. If you learn discipline, you become obedient. I don’t need to teach you the physical aspects of your submission, Leticia. I simply need to teach you to obey. Once you do - I assure you - everything else will be instinctive.”
Rude Girl Blog
March, 24th.
Leticia and Jonah in a Karaoke Bar.
The crowd parted, the noise subsided just a little… and I caught sight of the stage. It was a small, raised platform in the corner of the bar, with dark curtains drawn back on either side. In the center of the stage was a microphone on a stand.
I frowned. This wasn’t my idea of fun. This wasn’t the way I liked to enjoy myself.
Not at all. Not in a crowd, and not in a crowded bar.
Suddenly a spotlight split the gloom and it settled on the table where Leticia and I sat. I saw the blood drain from Leticia’s face and the mortified look in her eyes.
I looked at her in sudden alarm. “What’s wrong?” I sat up straight in my chair.
Leticia’s eyes were wide and terrified. “The spotlight,” she said, pointing. “It means one of the people at the table must sing.”
I said nothing.
Leticia was holding her breath.
“Can you sing?” I asked her.
She nodded. “A little. I had lessons…”
“Then you sing – because I’m not.”
The look of terror spread across her face and distorted her features as blind panic overcame her. “What? What do I sing?”
“Meatloaf,” I said instantly. “Bat out of Hell was the last great record ever made. Every single Jim Steinman song on that album was a classic. Pick any of them – they’re all brilliant.”
Leticia pushed herself away from the chair and walked like a condemned man towards the stage. I hadn’t told her one thing, and now I smiled to myself with wicked relish. Most Meatloaf songs run for six or seven minutes.
