Chapter Forty-Four Rae
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Rae
MY PHONE VIbrATES AS I get home three hours later, sore and exhausted.
All the adrenaline burned off while I raced over to Hannah’s with electrolyte solution and ginger ale and crackers, which I dropped onto the porch when she warned that they’re now all sick.
Even Schaffer, which is wild, given that he just got home today.
Like he somehow magically got the exact same bug while he was in Milwaukee or whatever, and now he’s home and it’s obviously morphed into the man flu, which is worse than Hannah’s and the kids’ combined.
Pissed as I am at my brother-in-law, there’s still a shadow of that postcoital glow, and let me tell you, I have not yet stopped trembling. It’s the glowiest I’ve ever felt from sex. Or foreplay. Or… well, if I’m being honest, anything at all.
I’m all cleaned up and ready for bed when my gaze settles on my Carytown book nook. While I’m still basking in the aftershocks of what we did, I sit at my table, turn on the light, and rummage through a bin of clear plastic bits in search of the perfect material to make a ruler.
I’ve never put myself in one of my models, and I’m honestly not sure I can do so now, but the urge to immortalize the way I felt tonight is strong. So I set to work.
My body’s humming low and constant like a high-voltage power line, so the vibration of my phone doesn’t immediately register.
When it does, I scramble to get it out from under me. Too late.
A second later, a text comes in.
Grant: It’s Grant. Answer the phone.
My pulse flicks up into overdrive.
Me: Bossy much?
Grant: Part of my charm. I’m calling you. Answer.
The annoyance that drums up is nothing compared to the excitement I feel as I answer his call.
“Hello?”
“Are you home?”
“Yes.”
“When did you get there?”
“Oh, maybe half an hour ago.” A look at my screen says it’s been longer. “I kind of lost track of time.”
“You didn’t text, Rae.”
Too busy thinking about you. Well, and cleaning up after sick people. And making the world’s tiniest spanking ruler. “Oh, shit. I forgot.”
He growls. “You’ll have to do better than that, Sunny.”
I go instantly pliant at the sound of my kink alias.
“Okay, sir.”
“First. We should go over the club checklist you filled out.”
Whoa, okay. I can do that.
“I need a response, Sunny. Yes, you’re fine with it, or no, you’d rather not?”
“Yes,” I rush to reply. “Absolutely.”
“Good. And then we’ll discuss your punishment.”
“Punishment?” I whine, like the good little brat I apparently am. Wait. Are brats good or bad?
“For not texting the second you got home.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure we’ll find a way for you to make it up to me.”
“Okay… sir.” Way too worked up from the direction the conversation’s going, I turn off my desk light and get into bed. “Should we do that now or…?”
“Checklist first. Punishment after.”
“So, we’re doing like an official Dom/sub thing?”
“Isn’t that what we discussed?”
“I thought you didn’t do long-term.”
“I don’t.” There’s a gap of a few seconds before he says, “This will be until I leave the company. That’s it.”
Disappointment floods me. It stinks because I don’t want to feel these things.
I shouldn’t feel these things. I mean, if nothing else, I should hate this guy whose job is in such direct opposition to what I stand for.
But after tonight… yeah. Who am I kidding?
This is totally happening. “You’ll be my starter Dom. ”
That seems to surprise a huff of laughter from him. “Sure. I like it.”
I’m smiling as I snuggle deeper under the covers, and for a happy moment, all I feel is a heady glow.
“The checklist you had at the club? Is that still current?”
“Yeah. You have it?”
“I remember your choices, but if you can share the list with me, we can make it official.”
“Oh. Wow. Okay. Yeah. I think. Hold on.” I go over to my worktable and scrabble around in my drawer until I find where I’ve hidden it, pull it out, and start reading. “Do, um, you have a list?” I ask, putting him on speakerphone in order to take photos of the list to send over to him.
I hear the smile in his voice when he says, “You don’t need my list.”
“But what if—”
“My list is what you want.”
I think about that. “Like, are they identical?”
“No. But remember the Pleasure Dom thing?”
“How could I not?”
“Okay. Got it.” A pause while he’s no doubt reading. “Let me see this. This first section? Where it lists bondage and suspension experiences?”
“Yeah,” I reply, reading the long, very detailed number of things I would or would not do.
Quite a few are hard nos, like mummification and all-day bondage.
Cuffs, harnesses, ropes, chains, restraints.
All of those are things I’m curious about but wouldn’t do with just anybody.
With Grant, I realize, it’s a huge hell yes.
Hair tie is on there. I move a mental check mark from no to yes on the Tried It column, skim down to nipple clamps and do the same.
My eyes land on ball gag, which I’d entered as a very light maybe with a low rating.
I think of how I shoved our list of rules into my very own mouth, and suddenly my rating’s moved up a point or two. Or fifty.
“Another thing we haven’t discussed is birth control. Do you want to stick to condoms?”
“I, ah. I have an IUD.” Excitement fizzles through me. “We could forgo condoms. If you want.”
“Understood. And yes. I want,” he says, that all-business voice a couple of notes deeper.
“Okay. I’m printing this out. On the bottom, I’m handwriting that I will adhere to the items provided on my submissive’s checklist. I will obtain your consent before embarking on an untried activity, and I will take care of my submissive’s every need. Are we clear?”
“Yes. Sir.”
“For the duration of the term.”
My belly swoops, this time not in a good way. “That’s right.”
“To the end of my current assignment, which will not exceed three weeks.”
Three weeks, tops. I am devoid of oxygen. Of everything.
“Rae?”
I clear my throat, croak, and then clear it again before I can manage a weak “Y-yeah.”
“You okay?”
“Yes. Great.” I look down at my list again, which features such treats as anal training and… oh, there it is, orgasm control. Suddenly, I’m a little woozy from this late-night libido sneak attack, not to mention the evening’s main event.
“I’m signing this. I’ll scan and send, and you can do the same.”
“Wow. Official.”
“That’s the point.”
Right. “You are nothing if not a stickler for rules.”
“Exactly.”
Neither of us mentions the fact that we had literal sex on his office chair tonight.
His voice gets quiet, private. “Can you turn on your camera?”
“Is this the punishment? Making me show you my pj’s? Because I can assure you, this outfit’s a libido killer. The punishment would be all yours.”
“Your pj’s got little flowers or something? You wearing one of those eye masks?”
It’s absurdly close to the truth.
“Show me. I want to see your face when I tell you the consequences.”
Oooooooooh.
Caught halfway between turned on and shy, I tap the camera button and give him a close-up shot of the undereye patches I slapped on in an attempt to combat my lack of sleep.
“I knew it.” Grant looks tired too, his eyelids heavy. This close up, there’s something softer about him. Sweet. “Now, show me the pj’s, Sunny.”
I hold the phone out so he can see the entire ensemble, which consists of thermals and a fuzzy bathrobe. It’s cold and damp in here, so warm is where it’s at.
“What’s that pattern?” He’s squinting. “Looks like little turds.”
I laugh. “Hey! No! They’re hedgehogs. They’re cute.”
“Hm.” His eyes are smiling now. “You’re cute.”
“And these are ranunculus flowers. They’re my favorite.”
“They’re beautiful.” His smile disappears. “Like you.”
“You’re making me blush.”
“Your blush, Rae, is one of my very favorite things.”
“Oh. Um, thanks?”
“Another one of my favorite things is when you come on my cock. Like you did tonight.”
My pussy clenches hard.
“Did you like that, sweet Sunny?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Sir.”
Something about his serious expression tells me I’m not going to like his next words, and oh boy, was my Spidey sense right.
“You’ll have no more orgasms until I say so, Sunny.” A hard stare. “Understood?”
“Wait. What?”
“Tonight, you do not come. No touching yourself. No getting off. At all.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so. See how it works?”
“How will you know?”
“Because you’ll tell me.”
The jerk is right. I want to wipe the smirk off his face.
“Well, guess I’d better go, then,” I say in my brattiest voice.
“Good. Get some sleep.”
“You’re bossy.”
“That is the sum total of my charm, sweetheart.”
Not true, but there’s no way I’m telling him that. Instead, I ask, “When am I allowed to come, then, huh? In three weeks?”
He goes serious. “You’ll come when I say so. Got it?”
With a whoosh, my entire body goes hot and heavy and so darned needy that I wonder if I can even sleep without taking care of myself. Which, honestly, is a first.
“I don’t like you right now,” I lie.
“You’ll thank me later.”
I growl and he chuckles and we both end on a sigh.
“I have one more request, Rae.”
“You giveth orgasms and then you taketh them away… What more could you possibly ask for?”
He grins. “I want to put your desk back to where it was.”
“Why?”
“So I can look at your face while there’s still time.”
Of everything he’s said to me, that’s what makes me blush the hardest.