Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Freddy
“Oh my God, this is so good,” Camille moaned around the mouthful of food she’d just spooned into her mouth. “The flavors are amazing.”
“Here, try this,” Freddy said, lifting a fork full of the seasoned meat from his plate. Watching her eat was its own form of pleasure. He passed the fork over and nearly sighed with her as she took a bite.
The whole morning had been wonderful. They’d headed to the top floor of the museum so they could work their way down until they reached the food.
He hadn’t been in a while, so the visiting exhibit was new to him, and the artwork was fantastic.
They’d walked through the whole thing holding hands, stopping to point out things that caught their attention and chit chatting in general.
The only thing they didn’t talk about was work.
“I’ve never had museum food like this,” she said after swallowing. “I feel like it’s usually fried food.”
“A lot of the museums around here have gotten a lot better, but yeah, there used to be a lot more chicken tenders and soggy overcooked cafeteria hamburgers and stuff like that. Now there’s more variety in all the museums. The Museum of Natural History has great salad bowls.”
Camille shook her head in amazement.
“I am kicking myself for not getting out more,” she admitted, her lips turning downward. “I needed this. I don’t care what happens with work. I’m going to make it a point to get out of the house more often and go exploring.”
“If you want company, I’d be happy to help.” He didn’t want to be pushy, but he was really enjoying himself today and was pretty sure she was, too.
“Oh, I’m counting on you to know all the best spots,” she teased. “It would be like having my own personal tour guide.”
Freddy laughed. That didn’t sound bad to him at all.
Maybe they could even do some actual tours.
She’d probably enjoy that. There were some really great ones downtown.
He’d heard good things about a comedy tour and had always wanted to do one of the Segway tours if he could talk her into it.
He didn’t know why, because the people always looked ridiculous, but he’d always thought it would be fun to go on one.
“Eventually, I’m going to get you up to the top of the Monument if you leave it up to me.” He winked, and Camille shook her fork at him.
“Don’t be naughty,” she replied, her voice turning a little huskier with the implied threat. It wasn’t a real order, though, more like ‘go ahead, so I have an excuse to punish you.’ Freddy’s favorite kind of order.
He grinned at her, unrepentant, and something sparked in her dark eyes. The air thickened around them, an erotic tension filling the space between them, before Camille blinked and shook it off. Still, the energy between them lingered.
“So, Air and Space is next. You said something about an IMAX theater? I won’t lie. I wouldn’t mind getting a break to sit down.” She grinned. “Even though you warned me to wear sneakers, I’m not used to walking this much in one day.”
Neither was Freddy, but he spent a lot of time on his feet behind the desk at Marquis, which helped. They finished lunch talking about all the things the Air and Space Museum had to offer and looking up movie times. Camille wanted to do it all, which sounded great to him.
Walking up the mall to the museum was freezing, so they were relieved when they stumbled into the warm museum entrance.
“Oh, wow,” Camille said, unwrapping herself from her jacket and pulling off her gloves and earmuffs. The front of her hair lay flat against her head, held in place by some kind of band, leaving the back half of her curls free to fly. The wind had ruffled them a little but not much.
The plain green shirt she was wearing skimmed her curves, showing her shape without clinging to it. Her jeans did plenty of clinging. Draping her jacket over one arm, she reached out with the other hand and Freddy laced his fingers through hers.
“By the way, have I told you how good you look today?” he asked, making her laugh because it had literally been the first thing he’d said to her, and he’d repeated it more than once.
“If you’re expecting me to get tired of hearing it, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” But her attention wasn’t really on him. It was on all the things hanging above them and displayed around them. The main room of the museum had some pretty incredible, very large displays.
Watching her looking around, it was almost like seeing it for the first time again. He grinned, dropping quiet and letting her soak it all in. He couldn’t wait to show her everything.
Camille
“I can’t believe how much my feet hurt when I was wearing sneakers all day,” Camille complained. Not just her feet. Her legs, in general. She was sore all over.
The massage Freddy was giving her feet and calves was definitely helping a lot. He grinned at her from his position at the other end of her couch, his strong fingers rubbing over the arch of her foot, pressing in and making her groan as pure relief slid through her.
“If you’re not used to being on your feet for long periods of time, your feet are going to end up hurting, regardless of what shoes you’re wearing. Heck, even if you are used to being on your feet.”
“Do your feet hurt?” she asked, suddenly worried she’d become one of the people who took Freddy’s help without thinking about what he might need. He shook his head, but she wasn’t sure he was telling the truth.
“I’m good. The movies in the afternoon helped. If we did a second day of walking around like this, my feet would be hurting.” He chuckled as she moaned again.
“There is no way I could do a second day in a row of this. One was enough. Next time, we’re doing a half day until I build up more stamina,” she said grumpily, though she’d had a great time.
No regrets. They’d decided to continue the day by returning to her place and ordering in food.
Now she was stuffed full of food from her favorite Greek place and getting a foot massage by an eager-to-please, very handsome, and extremely capable sub.
This is the life.
The life that she wanted, that she sometimes dreamed about.
The life she’d been sacrificing to her job and to trying to take care of her mom…
but what if she could have it all? There was a cynical part of her that immediately rejected that notion.
Wasn’t that what she’d heard over and over again her whole life?
That she couldn’t have it all? That she was always going to have to choose something?
Work or family.
Work or friends.
Work or vacation.
Work or children.
Always work, work, work, work or... But what did work give back to her other than money?
Not that money wasn’t important—it was, of course it was—but she knew her mom would approve of what was happening right now much more than she would approve of Camille bending over backward to the Donaldsons and Nicholas Alexander IIIs of the world.
Even if it meant the home she lived in wasn’t as good as the one she was in now.
Camille let out a long, slow breath.
“Do you ever feel like you have to choose between work and everything else?” For the most part, they’d managed to avoid talking about their jobs today, but now she wanted to know.
They had similar careers, both divorce lawyers, but Freddy managed to have a second job at Marquis and a large circle of friends he made time for, and now, he was taking her out.
Despite all that, he seemed perfectly at ease and happy with himself.
He took his time, thinking about her question, mulling it over, still rubbing at her feet before finally answering.
“Not really. At least, not in the sense I think you’re asking.
There are times when I miss something I wanted to go to because I have to work, but if there’s something I really want to do, I find a way to do it.
Sometimes, I have to make small sacrifices at work to be with my friends and small sacrifices with my friends to make sure I get all my work done, but I don’t feel as if I’m choosing one over the other. If that makes sense.”
It did.
It sounded like compromise. Rather than allowing one thing to run his life, he prioritized neither all the time and both some of the time. Unlike her, who had prioritized work completely, partly out of fear it would no longer be there if she didn’t, and she needed the money.
Lately that was changing. She’d gone out New Year’s Eve. She’d had lunch with Julie and Olivia. She’d gone out for the night with Julie even if she’d ended up spending most of it with Freddy. Now she and Freddy had gone on a date.
Nothing terrible had happened.
None of her work had been neglected.
If anything, she’d worked harder because she’d felt less stressed, less tired, and more energized.
She felt better all around, even with sore feet.
There was some satisfaction in having sore feet and legs, to be perfectly honest. Like she’d done something with her day instead of sitting at home, trying to recharge and still feeling exhausted at the end of it.
Now she felt exhausted but satisfied in a way she hadn’t in a very long time.
“I think I’ve been stuck in an either/or mentality for a long time,” she admitted. “Like I can only do one thing, and that one thing has been sucking me dry.”
There was a long pause as Freddy thoughtfully rubbed up her calf, massaging the muscle and making her want to sink even deeper into the couch.
“Well, I’m glad you’re getting away from that,” he said finally.
It was exactly the right thing to say. He wasn’t pitying her, which would have made her bristle, and he wasn’t being patronizing. He was supportive and acknowledged the changes she was already making.
“Me, too.” She grinned at him and shifted her legs slightly, bending her knees so her feet were braced against his inner thigh, the side of her foot against the front of his pants.
Deliberately, she pressed her foot sideways to rub against the small bulge there.
It responded by growing immediately, his cock twitching beneath the fabric and swelling against her foot.
“Wanna help me get further away from that?”
Despite his quick intake of breath and his quickly growing erection pressing against her, he didn’t jump at the suggestion.
“I don’t know… is this our first date? I don’t want you to think I’m too easy.” He grinned widely as she laughed. “I’d hate to give the wrong impression.”
“What if I like easy men?”
“Oh, well then I can be very easy.” He groaned as her foot pressed more firmly against his cock, now a hard bulge at the front of his pants. “Happy to be of service.”
There was still a teasing lilt to his voice, which had gotten lower and huskier when she shifted, using her feet to rub both his cock and his inner thigh. His magic fingers had stopped, now resting on her lower legs rather than massaging, and his jaw clenched as she pressed hard against his cock.
“I think what I would like is to have you tied to my bed, so I can do whatever I like with you,” she said slowly, enjoying the minute changes to his expression.
Blue eyes opened, his gaze meeting hers, filled with heat, need, and anticipation—all the things she liked to see.
“As you wish, Mistress.”