8. Come before we go
Chapter 8
Come before we go
MIA
C al’s phone chimes with the perimeter alarm a second after mine does. Our escort has arrived.
“Aaron’s here,” I holler, bouncing from toe to toe at the edge of the kitchen where I’ve been banished. “Time to go, Cal. Are you done?”
“Two more minutes, tiger.”
Stifling an annoyed huff, I glance over my shoulder, grateful to see Mama Klein sitting silently with her purse in her lap. Music always calms her, and this afternoon is no exception. We put on the Boston Pops holiday concert for her while we put the final touches on the dessert assortment for the party.
Well, Calfinished the decorating while I attempted to help. Unfortunately, my frosting piping technique leaves something to be desired, according to my cake-assed man. He was quite offended by how I kept trying to hide my botched jobs with obnoxious amounts of red, white, and green sprinkles. When he took the sprinkles away from me, I had to resort to seduction as a distraction. Sadly, he caught on pretty quickly to my game. So the sexy baby kicked me out of the kitchen.
I was left with idle hands, which is never a good thing for me and my inner pimp. Especially when Cal made me promise not to work. We’re taking today and tomorrow off from all hacking, intel gathering, and mafia hunting to celebrate the holiday with as much normalcy as possible despite everything at Redleg being a mess. It’ll be a Christmas miracle if I manage to get through the forty-eight hours without breaking out in hives from my intel addiction detox.
But I’m being a good girl.
You’re shocked it’s possible, aren’t you? I don’t blame you.
In case you’re wondering how I pulled off this uncharacteristic compliance, I’ll clue you in.
Some girls are motivated to please their partners for the praise. Others will comply to avoid a punishment. Not me, though.
While I love the praise, especially when contrasted with some degradation, I crave something else more these days. Cal told me if I was good, I’d get extra punishments for the full week between Christmas and New Year’s. Or fun ishments, as I’ve recently started calling them.
In our limited free time when we’re not busting up the Bratva, Cal’s been embracing his Dominant side. After the cat finally clawed out of the bag about Tomer’s kink background, he started informally training Cal in the ways of the Dom. Tomer has shared a wealth of information with him about how to tame my brat side.
As if that’s possible.
It’s cute of them to think they could ever accomplish such a feat. Adorable dolts.
Lettie, Kri, and I have done plenty of knowledge exchanging on the other end of the spectrum. Initially, Kri was less than forthcoming. Although she’s shy about it, I wore her down.
Surprisingly, the youngest of us is the most experienced. However, since Lettie worked at a kink club for a year, perhaps we shouldn’t be shocked. She’s brat goals.
Since we’re all spending so much time at Redleg lately for safety reasons, it’s natural for us to break into little groups in the downtime and blow off steam. We’ve essentially formed a brat council. Our motto is: They can’t stop us all . We’re trying to get Sawyer to join, considering Sammy has aligned with the tops. Traitor.
All that said, I see the draw for her. Occasionally, Cal gives me the reins for playtime. Making him follow my orders in the bedroom is heady as hell. We don’t do it often, but it’s a nice change. Apparently, Sawyer and Sammy are our opposites, where she typically tops him, only periodically giving him control.
But she’s out of the Brat Pack. Disqualified by virtue of her true Domme nature. If we let her in, she’d give away all our secrets. We can’t have that.
Cal distracts me from my musings, spinning around and dusting off his hands on his apron. “All set. Let me change, and we can roll out.”
My eyes fall to the black and red apron adorned with a picture of the Rat Pack, all the crooners wearing Santa hats. I’d like to see Cal wearing only that apron. That’d be... a nice present for me.
He kisses my cheek on the way past, making my heart skip a beat. He smells good. Like he did that first night. Vanilla and hunky man.
And cake.
Yum.
“I’ll text Aaron to help carry the trays,” I tell Cal’s retreating backside, relishing the view unabashedly.
He pauses a few steps from the bedroom and turns to face me. “Mia, my face is up here.”
Busted.
Under protest, I force my gaze from his lower half to find him scolding me nonverbally too. And it makes my nipples stiffen.
He holds one finger up. “Don’t tell Aaron who made?—”
“I won’t. Don’t worry.” I draw an X over my heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He puckers his lips and blows me a kiss. Feeling a bit saucy, I catch it and then throw the air kiss toward the pie between my thighs.
With an indulgent head shake, he disappears into the bedroom to finish getting ready.
After I tap out the message to Aaron, I wander into the living room, approaching Charlotte timidly. “Hey, there. We’re leaving in a few minutes for the holiday party. I need to turn off the television, okay?”
Aside from a slight twinkle in her eye and a tiny nod, she’s mostly unresponsive. Much better than the alternative of resisting or panicking.
Looks like we’re starting the evening out on the right foot, which is great news since she’s coming with us to the party at Redleg. This is a big outing for us.
Me, on the other hand? Not nearly as chill.
Our last trip out of the house without Kate ended in disaster. But she’s out of town for the holidays. A well-earned vacation. That woman is a lifesaver. The compassion she shows Charlotte is nothing short of awe-inspiring. And she’s taught Cal and me how to minimize the distressing episodes when they occur.
Surprisingly enough, Mrs. Klein has done exceptionally well this week without Kate. Probably because Cal and I worked from home, attempting to keep things as stable as possible. Aside from calling me by a slew of random wrong names—none of them offensive—things have been uneventful. Routines are a marvel, and distractions can turn a pending episode around on a dime.Usually.
Even with the easy week and her current favorable demeanor, I’ve got a bad feeling about tonight.
For starters, everyone will be in costume at the party. Including us. However, what we’re wearing is quite tame compared to the extravagance I expect from the others. Mainly Sawyer, if my intel is reliable. And it always is. After the party was announced, his browser history was delightfully entertaining.
Men’s tights
Best quality men’s tights
What do male ballet dancers wear under their tights?
Dance belts
Dance belt reviews
Dance belt no thong
Do you wear a cup inside a dance belt?
Dance belt size chart
Will a thick penis fit in a standard-size dance belt?
Split crotch tights
Maternity Split crotch tights
Elf prosthetics
One day last month, he started out shopping for stretch mark creams, then detoured into men’s anti-aging serums. He ended up ordering a deluxe kit from Orveda for just shy of a thousand bucks. No way any other guys at Redleg would be caught dead buying that. It explains a lot about his soft hands and glowing skin, though.
Eventually, he circled back to the cream for Sammy which prompted the rabbit hole tumbling to begin with.
And don’t give me any shit for checking up on him. I found it during my routine duties. He did it on the company internet from his Redleg PC. It’s not like he was trying to hide it, not that I’d expect him to.
Aaron knocks softly at the door right as I click the power button on the television remote. Mrs. Klein flinches, but her face remains serene when she locks her gaze on me.It’s as if she trusts me to keep her safe. Or perhaps that’s my wishful thinking.
Either way, I’ll take it. A win is a win, regardless of whether it’s real or imaginary.
And that’s what helps me sleep at night.
Charlotte gives me a sly grin before creeping toward the door.
Oh hell no. She isn’t going to be opening any doors around here. Not after she once let the FBI mole right inside, practically placing me on Lisa’s diabolical serving platter. Hard pass on Mrs. Klein’s door-opening privileges. They’ve been permanently revoked.
All the doors and windows in this place now only open when the code is entered, aside from the emergency fail-safe latch, which she knows nothing about. We aren’t taking any chances when it comes to her safety and ours.
Swift as a fox, I dart around her. Once at the door, I cup my hand over the keypad so she can’t see the code. Although I doubt she’d be able to remember it, I’m not risking it.
I unlock and open the door for Aaron. “Hey, come on in.”
His stoic expression brightens when he peeks over my shoulder at Cal’s mother. “Hey there, Mama Klein. How are you doing today?”
She mumbles through a semblance of a reply, too quiet for me to pick out the words. Verbal greeting aside, she positively beams at Aaron. Her smile twinkles brighter than all the lights on the Christmas tree.
Aaron’s taken a shine to her since learning about her diagnosis. He’s our primary backup guard. And since we don’t sleep at Redleg like most of our peers, he’s here often. He’s so gentle and patient with her. It warms my heart.
“I’ll go check on Klein,” I tell Aaron, widening my eyes at him and then flashing them at Charlotte.
He winks, confirming he understood the unspoken request to watch over her.
I dash into the bedroom, coming to an abrupt stop at the doorway. If I had kept walking, I’d have tripped over my tongue.
Although he’s turned away from me, I see Cal’s full reflection in the mirror. This man is dripping with swagger, wearing a three-piece suit, wing-tipped oxford shoes, and a narrow-brimmed fedora.
All I can manage to project is one word, and it’s a pathetic, breathy excuse for speaking. “Cal.”
He spins on his heel, adjusts the brim of his hat, and winks.
And now I need new panties.
I’m unsure how it happened, but someone seems to have closed the door behind me. And locked it. Odd.
“What are you doing?” he asks, attempting to peek around me to where my hand still lingers on the doorknob.
Next thing I know, I fall to my knees. Another mystery.
He strides over to me, smoldering at me like sex in a suit. “Tiger, get off the floor.”
I don’t answer because I can’t. Words have abandoned me, thankfully making room for the cock I need in my mouth.
Once stopped in front of me, he extends his hand. However, I ignore it in favor of reaching for the fly of his pressed dress slacks.
Having perfected the fine art of freeing his enormous cock from his pants in record time, I’ve got him out and in my hand by the time he realizes I rejected his offer to help me off the carpet.
“Mia, what the fuck are you do—”His objection is halted when I squeeze him from root to tip. “ Mmm . Okay. I guess you approve of my costume.”
I flash wild eyes at him, nodding and licking my lips.“Aaron’s watching Charlotte. We’ve got two to five minutes before our absence becomes noticeably awkward. I’m up to the challenge if you are.”
He glances to the door, then back at my parted lips hovering three inches from the tip of his cock. “Do it.”
It’s only two syllables, but the heat and dominance infused in them make me quiver.
His cock twitches in my grip as I pump him gingerly. My mouth waters with each pulse of blood through his shaft. Too impatient to wait for him to get fully erect, I wrap my lips around the head and suck, lapping at the underside of his hardening dick with each tug. Using my fist, I keep working him rougher as he grows for me.
No teasing. No messing around. I get right to it.
“Fucking hell, Mia,” he whispers.
With a grin he can’t see, I glance up at him, reveling in how quickly he’s lengthening in my mouth. After a few more powerful sucks, I’m able to drop my hand since his erection no longer needs the extra support.
A tiny moan slips out of my throat, getting trapped in my mouth as he starts rocking his hips. I close my eyes, instantly being swept up in the erotic way he drives into me.
“Hands behind your back,” he rasps.
Without hesitation, I comply, locking my fingers around my other wrist.
“Good girl.” He slips his hands around my hallowed cheeks, working his fingertips around to the back of my head. “Keep sucking as strong as you can. This is gonna be hard and fast.”
I express my enthusiastic consent by increasing the suction and whimpering around his cock. His strokes increase in speed and depth. Using his hold on my head to maneuver me however he likes, he works himself in and out of my mouth like he’s been possessed. His breath grows serrated, whereas I may have stopped breathing altogether.
The deep timbre of his voice blends effortlessly with the obscene words he flings at me. “Such a naughty girl. Coming in here to suck me off and begging me to treat you like a filthy sex toy. Wearing that sexy little outfit with your tits practically spilling out. Such a dirty fucking girl.”
Fuck yes I am.
“You’re just begging for my cum, aren’t you?”
“Mmm-hm,” I moan while he pummels my mouth.
The little grunts that leave him cause tears to pool in my panties.
As promised, he’s hard and fast, and I love every second of it. I might need a whiplash collar later, but it’s totally worth it.
“Drink it down, tiger. Swallow every last drop,” he orders in a menacing rumble.
It’s such a heady juxtaposition to his normal cinnamon-sweet demeanor. I love knowing I’m the only one who brings this side out of him.
And I’m the only one who ever will.
His frenzied pace becomes haphazard, short pumps mingling with hurried pistoning. A deep growl erupts from his chest as his cock swells inside my mouth, shooting his release against the back of my throat.
I’m not religious, but this man can make me see the heavens when I’m on my knees. Being owned by him and letting him use me is utterly euphoric.
The forceful grip he’s had on my cheeks steadily softens. He withdraws from my mouth, a long string of saliva hanging off the head of his perfect cock.
After I release my hands from behind me, I set my palms on my stocking-clad thighs. Catching my breath takes several seconds, giving me time to take inventory of how satiated my body feels. And I didn’t even come.
Once he’s tucked himself back into his pants, Cal caresses my face with the gentlest hands. “Go touch up your makeup, tiger. We need to leave.”
I notice my exceptionally damp panties, quickly developing an ick from the sensation. I’ll need to address that too. My hair probably needs some attention as well.
“Thanks for leaving the hat on.” I wink at him, letting him pull me to my feet. “I want you to leave it on when we get home tonight while you fuck me on the dresser.”
“I’ll take your suggestion under advisement.”
And then he kisses me, adoration flowing with every tender swipe of his tongue against mine.
A minute ago, he was decimating my lips, and now he’s gently making love to them.
Ten minutes later, we load up and head to HQ. I’ve got the lorazepam in my purse in case Charlotte gets severely agitated, and Cal brought an activity bag big enough to transport a small child across the border. It’s filled with puzzles, fidget-type toys, and other things to keep her distracted. Aaron’s car is loaded up with approximately seven hundred thousand calories and three million grams of sugar, compliments of my sexy pastry chef. He even baked a cake for me, despite doing it under protest.
That’s true love.
We’re ready for whatever this night throws at us. Let’s hope my hunch is wrong and the party is a success in the jolliest of ways.