Chapter 8
Celia
Ispent the rest of the night obsessing about my time with Lanie. How we went from watching Uncle Buck to making out to her obvious discomfort when I defaulted into my domme mode I couldn’t tell you.
Her questions rattled around in my head for way longer than I wanted.
It was true that I rarely had my submissives service me in any way.
Many dommes did, but for me, I enjoyed pushing people out of their comfort zones, quieting their minds, making them come if that’s what we agreed to before the scene, then going home.
It was relaxing for me. But as for sex, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done more than get myself off with my vibrator.
Lanie’s question about my ability to have ‘normal’ sex really made me think.
It was almost like somewhere along the way getting other people off had replaced my own desire to have sex.
And I avoided attachments like the plague.
I wasn’t even sure if I knew how to have a relationship.
I’d never actually had more than a short-term fling.
Flings were safe. No feelings, no emotions, no relationship talk. Not that I’d had those lately either.
Then again, Lanie wasn’t asking for a relationship.
She was asking for something casual over the holidays.
I could do that, right? There was a strong attraction between us, and I knew the sex would be hot as hell, if I could let myself just relax and enjoy it.
Besides, it would be good for me to hang out with someone like her.
She was so full of life. So carefree. So energizing.
Just after ten thirty I heard a knock on my door.
I put down the biography I was reading and went to the door.
Lanie was leaning against the threshold, dressed in another pair of faded jeans and a sweatshirt covered with candy canes.
Her wild hair was up on top of her head in a messy bun, and just like yesterday, she wasn’t wearing a speck of make-up.
God, she was beautiful.
“Good morning,” she said as I felt a giant nose slide up between my legs. I stepped back before the dog got any more up close and personal with my crotch.
“Arthur and I are going to walk to the park and throw the ball around for a while. Do you want to come with us?” Lanie asked.
I surprised myself by saying, “Sure.”
The truth was I couldn’t say no.
She looked at my outfit. “It was raining a lot last night. You might want to wear something that can get muddy.”
I looked down at my silk blouse and palazzo pants. I’d dressed up for work so long that business casual seemed like dressing down for me. Besides, you never knew when you’d run into a client at the grocery store or the coffee shop.
“Give me five minutes to change.”
I changed into the same running clothes I was wearing yesterday, figuring they were going to get dirty anyway. When I came back out of my bedroom, Lanie and Arthur had moved from the doorway into the living room.
“You don’t have any pictures,” she said.
“What?”
“People usually have pictures of their friends and family in their living room,” she said. “But you don’t. Did you just move in or something?”
“No, I’ve lived here for seven years. But I don’t like clutter.”
The truth was I wasn’t particularly sentimental. Then again, I didn’t have anyone to be sentimental about.
Lanie looked around with her eyebrows raised but didn’t say anything.
I examined the room with new eyes. It was pretty sterile, I had to admit, just like the interior designer had intended.
The floors were a light blonde hardwood, the furniture was all chrome and glass, the upholstery a pristine white that matched the walls.
Other than a framed art print of Mt. Ranier hanging over the fireplace, there wasn’t really any color in the room. I never noticed that before.
“Let’s go before this guy pees on your fancy area rug,” Lanie said. “And maybe we can stop and get you a Christmas tree on the way back.”
“A Christmas tree?” I parroted. For some reason I seemed to do a lot of that around Lanie.
“Yeah, you need a Christmas tree to brighten this place up. No wonder you hate the holidays, it’s so… white in here. No Christmas spirit at all.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but it was hard to think when she was giving me one of those bright smiles. Suddenly having a tree sounded nice. “You’ll have to help me decorate it then.”
“Gladly,” she said immediately. “I love decorating.”
We spent the next hour at the park, taking turns throwing the ball and random sticks while Arthur chased them and brought them back again.
The dog had a lot of energy, but I had to admit it was fun seeing his excitement for playing fetch.
I’d never had a pet growing up but after spending some time with Arthur I could definitely see the appeal.
While we waited for the dog to return with his ball, Lanie and I talked.
She was surprisingly easy to talk to, and also very skilled at drawing out information.
As a result, I found myself opening up in a way that I rarely did with anyone.
The conversation flowed easily, at least until Arthur came over, covered in mud, and shook himself off, sending droplets all over the both of us.
“Arthur!” Lanie chided. “Were you rolling around in a mud puddle? Shame on you.”
The dog looked unrepentant, which made both of us laugh.
“I’m starving now!” Lanie said dramatically. “Let’s go get a breakfast sandwich.”
“It’s almost noon,” I pointed out. “And we’re covered in mud.”
“That’s okay, I know the perfect place. And they have a heated patio so we can bring Arthur with us.”
Like I could tell her no. I just hoped I didn’t run into a client looking like this.
We walked a few blocks up the street to a food cart pod. These places had sprung up during the pandemic, groups of food carts parked in vacant lots, often set up with an outdoor eating area. I’d seen several news stories about their success.
“We’re eating at a food cart?” I asked.
She sent me an amused look. “Let me guess, you’ve never been here before even though it’s only four blocks from your house.”
“No, I haven’t.”
She laughed. “You’re in for a treat then. And just so you know, these carts have to pass the same inspections by the Health Department as brick and mortar restaurants do, so the food is safe.”
She led us to a cart called “Brekkie” which served various types of breakfast sandwiches as well as quiche.
I didn’t normally eat a ton of carbs, or cured meat, but I couldn’t resist ordering the bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit.
Lanie ordered an egg, cheese, and avocado sandwich on an English muffin.
The sandwiches were enormous, stuffed full of freshly cooked ingredients.
We took the sandwiches and our drip coffees to a table near the heaters and settled in at a picnic table to eat. Arthur settled beneath the table, clearly hoping that we’d drop something.
“This is so good,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting the arugula on my sandwich.”
“That’s what makes it healthy,” she laughed. “Stick with me, I know all the good, cheap places to eat in the city.”
After we ate, she dragged me to a Christmas tree lot where I bought the first Christmas tree I’d had as an adult. It wasn’t too big, maybe about four feet tall, and this close to the holiday, it wasn’t in the best shape, but for some reason I loved it.
“You got a Charlie Brown tree,” Lanie said, pointing at a bare space where the tree had lost is branches.
At my blank look she prodded, “Remember, Charlie Brown got that sad little tree but then it came to life with his love and the magic of Christmas.”
“No.”
“You’ve seen Charlie Brown though, right?”
I thought for a second. “Not that I recall.”
“You didn’t watch it with your parents when you were a kid?” she asked. “We watched it every year. It was a tradition.”
I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped my mouth. Spending time with their daughter would have cut into my parents’ drinking and partying time and would have required them to think about me for once.
“No, we didn’t.”
My voice was cold and flat. Lanie gave me a long, searching look and I could swear she saw the pain of my childhood with that simple question. I braced myself for her to ask me something else, but she just gave me a rueful little laugh.
“I guess I know what we’re watching tonight.”
“I don’t like Christmas shows,” I reminded her.
“You can’t say that when you haven’t seen the good ones,” she pointed out.
Despite my years of litigation experience I couldn’t argue with her logic. “
Besides, you either have to listen to carols or watch Christmas shows while you decorate the tree. It’s a rule.”
“Well, if it’s a rule, I guess I have to,” I laughed.
The sound almost surprised me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed like this with anyone. There was something about Lanie that brought out a different side of me, a lighter side that I didn’t even know existed. I kind of liked it.
But when this was all over, I was going to be in such big trouble, because somehow I was falling in love with this woman. And I had no idea how to stop it.