Chapter 17 – Grant
I don’t like surprises but when it’s her...
Linus must have written this near the end, after our final argument.
The maze was well-tended but I lost my way. I’m sorry. Don’t let your garden turn to weeds. Don’t waste your life on lonely, haunted paths no one visits.
Do you think your mother forgave me? Will you?
Does he think protecting her memory is a waste? Did he die thinking I hated him? The thought is an unwelcome one, making my throat tighten up. Angrily, I rise to fetch a drink, shutting the useless sentiments away. An old man’s rambling regrets, that’s all this letter amounts to. Granite Grant with a heart of stone.
I pick up the bottle and then set it down again. The wail of a siren below reminds me where I am. Even if it had meant getting up at some ungodly hour to make my meeting, I wish I’d stayed at the estate and had a late supper with Daisy, my bright little flower amongst the weeds of life.
She was endearingly sweet with her braid and overalls today.
She was unbearably sexy in my robe the other night, those lovely tits so enticing and beckoning for my tongue.
Even her terribly messy idea of art charms me in its way and I absolutely loved every second of our day in the city. I’ve never felt this way before. I… I don’t just like my wife. I fear I might be falling in love with her. I am utterly fucked.
She’s not at all what a Barclay wife is expected to be, yet, surprisingly, I do not mind. I worry what this year will do to her, what poisoned darts she’ll have to dodge from the harridans within my family and outside of it. The idea of that free-spirited girl ever growing as depressed and jaded as my mother… I cannot bear the thought.
Fuck, Daisy. What are you doing to me?
Maybe that’s the problem. I can’t fuck Daisy without complicating everything.
And, I can’t get entangled with a wife who keeps secrets from me either.
“Mr. Barclay, there’s something I think you should know,” Anders had told me over the phone when my wife had disappeared on him today.
I was furious that he lost her again and furious with her for disobeying me. I didn’t like their easy comradery when I took her ring shopping either but where does she go in the city when she loses Anders? And, where the hell are the four thousand dollars-worth of sneakers she bought? Not in our closet at any rate. Something isn’t adding up.
But, she was tipsy from her outing with the ladies earlier. She smelled like a boozy candy cane, too delicious for my sanity. Despite having rushed home early for that purpose, I couldn’t question her in such a state. I couldn’t run the risk of being alone with her like that either.
A phone call, however… My lips tug into a grin when I see her name on the screen. She’s calling me. “Hello, wife. Are you missing me?”
A loud, derisive snort. “Not one bit… unless you’re missing me.” The first part was spoken so contemptuously I’d be annoyed if not for the wavering uncertainty of that second half. “Where are you, Grant?”
“At my place in the city.”
“Oh, the mythical penthouse I’ve never seen and probably never will.” She hasn’t seen this place, has she? I never even considered she might like to. “Who’s there with you?”
“No one.” Another snort, one of disbelief. “Daisy, I assure you I am alone.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it.”
A swipe of my finger and our phone call becomes a video call. I can only see the top of her head. That golden crown of curls is tied up by some cloth. I’ll bet she’s got a smudge of paint on her nose or something equally adorable. I can’t make out what’s behind her. Is that the bathroom tile?
But, she can see me. “I knew it! You’re shirtless!”
“I don’t wear shirts to bed.”
“Huh, well… how am I supposed to know what you wear to bed? Don’t wear them when you run either and how’s a girl supposed to think straight…” Her words turn to disgruntled mumbling. Clearly, I’ve vexed my wife somehow by not wearing a shirt.
“Daisy, have you had more to drink?” She giggles and a bottle of McCallan floats across my screen. “Go easy on that-”
“Don’t you tell me how much to drink, Mr. Bossy McShort-Shorts.”
I can’t help chuckling at her nonsense and wishing she could entertain me in person but… “What’s that sound?”
“The water?”
“Water? Are you…” I gulp before sputtering the words out. “Are you taking a bath?”
“Mmmm … yes. Do you know how delightful a hot bath feels?”
Christ, my cock wants to know and wants her to moan like that again. “You’re drinking and calling me from the bath. Do I need to have Mrs. Keating check on you?”
She giggles again and there are splashing noises in the background as her face comes into view. My wife’s flushed and exceedingly lovely face with those big blue eyes staring back at me. “Don’t do that. I’m not that tipsy and the stairs are hard on her. Plus, she might die of shock if she saw Max.”
“Max?” I repeat, all my good humor eradicated in a heartbeat.
The tell-tale buzz assaults my ears as my wife smiles boldly at me through the phone. “Mmm-hmm. Max. The only cock I’m allowed since my husband has sworn to be a gentleman.”
I have never resented Past Me’s gentlemanly impulses more. “I threw Max away.”
But, the horrible buzzing grows a little louder and her head lolls back with the camera’s view dipping down toward the water. “It was just in the waste paper basket by the bed and I’m an excellent cleaning girl. It’s not like I had to go dumpster diving.”
“I meant to destroy it,” I grumble.
“Grant,” she purrs. “You said we’d discuss Max’s failures but you were only teasing me. That was bad of you.”
“I’m sorry. I fear you’re stuck with a deplorable husband for one year.” I don’t mean to be deplorable. I never meant to be a husband at all.
“You didn’t mean it so now it’s up to… ohhh… me. But, I- unnn … I’d like to hear your voice while I… I really love the sound of your voice, Grant.”
Fucking hell on fire, she’s going to be the death of me. I want to tell her to turn that damned vibrator off right now and fling it out the nearest window. I want to turn her over my knee for tempting me this way. I want to use that thing on her even more except my cock gets to be inside her and the vibrator can be used for teasing her in other ways.
But, if she wants to come while I do the talking and the watching… My voice has turned to gravel when I speak again. “Let me see you,” I command.
The picture moves and there she is, every inch of my wife’s face and chest. Bubbles cling to the tops of her rosy tits. Her gorgeous locks are tied up in a red bandana. She’s in the bathtub, our tub, where I could be fucking my wife right now if I wasn’t such a damn fool.
“I want to see all of you, Daisy.”
“Grant…”
“Show me.”
Her cheeks turn redder but she obeys, lifting her butt and panning the phone down her body, giving me the most tantalizing, though far-too-brief show of her satiny, pink flesh dotted with random clumps of bubbles. How I’d love to lick every inch of her.
“Tell me about your bath,” I say once she’s slipped back down into the water. “What have you done to set the mood for Max? What does it smell like in there?”
“Grant, I… I shouldn’t have called. I got something in my head and I was wrong but-”
“You don’t get to play shy now, Goldilocks.”
“Why do you call me that?” she asks, softly.
“Someone’s been eating popcorn in my room. Someone’s been sleeping in my bed. Someone’s been using my bathtub and she’s still there.” Her laughter echoes around the tiled bathroom, making me grin. “Answer my question.”
“I lit those eucalyptus candles. The bubble bath is lavender scented.”
“That sounds pleasant but not as sweet as that peachy fragrance you wear.”
“You… you like my shampoo?”
“Yes.” It makes me salivate every time I smell it, I think but don’t tell her. “The bubbles must make the water nice and slippery.”
“They do,” she whispers.
“Good. Touch yourself for me. Start with your nipples, tug on them. Lightly at first.” She does and my breath grows short watching her deliberate movements. “Put the phone down so you can use both hands but let me see you.”
“How will I-”
“Use Max to prop it up. That will be his sole purpose tonight.”
She scowls and it’s damn precious but, if I have to watch that fucking piece of silicone disappear into her sweet pink pussy, I really will drive back to the estate tonight and do everything I thought about a few moments ago.
Daisy doesn’t argue. She simply makes her own request. “Touch yourself, too, Grant. Don’t make me come alone.”
The hiss of the zipper fills my silent room and I pull my cock free from my boxers. I lay back on the bed as I grasp myself and start to slowly stroke. I close my eyes for a moment, pretending it’s Daisy’s hand and have to stifle a groan.
“I can’t see you,” she whines.
“No but this is about me making you come. Slide your other hand down between your legs, circle your clit, nice and slow.”
“Grant…”
“Tug on that nipple a little more firmly. Pretend it’s my mouth on you.”
“Ohh…”
It’s the most sensual thing, watching Daisy in her bath, telling her what to do, directing her small hand to move rapidly back and forth over her submerged nub as she plays with her breasts. She’s so wonderfully responsive to my directions and her face as she gets closer to her climax… she’s a vision.
My own need grows more intense until I’m stroking myself so hard, the friction burns. “Grant… Will you come, too?”
“Yes. Don’t stop now. That’s my good girl. Slide a finger inside that wet little cunt for me, wife.”
“Oh God…”
“Keep rubbing your clit as you do. That’s it… that’s it…”
I barely catch the breathy cry of her orgasm as my own breaks over me, a low roar I can’t hold back. But, I do catch it, the sweetest little hitch in her breath and that whimpery moan with the water splashing around her. The most beautiful sound I can imagine and I want to hear it beside my ear next time instead of through the phone.
“Fuck, that was…”
“Yeah,” she whispers shyly through the phone, her face scarlet and blue eyes more vivid somehow.
My dick is sore from the power of my final strokes and my heart pounds rapidly against my rib cage but the release renders me incapable of caring about anything but this perfect moment until...
“Oh, shit!” she screeches in distress which is followed by loud splashing noises.
I’ve lost her on video. “Are you alright? Daisy?!”
It takes a moment for her to answer. “Max rolled somehow and the phone fell into the tub! I’m sorry, Grant-”
“Don’t be-”
“I need to put this in some rice or something.”
“Right… rice. That sounds like something to try.” Christ, my head is still spinning from the force of that orgasm and I don’t want to let her go. “Will you call me back once you’ve-”
The phone clicks off before I can finish and I look down at the mess coating my stomach. I need to clean up and I need to get some sleep. But, all I can think about is how much I want to do that again and so much more with my pretty wife.