Chapter 27 #2
She snorts. "Good. Makes life way more fun."
I sit on the mat and begin stretching, letting Cloud talk, her chatter filling the space. It's easier than thinking about how quickly Red tried to put distance between us the moment the door opened, or dissecting the way his eyes lingered anyway.
"So," she says casually, "you live with Red, or was that just a very convincing overnight stay?"
I glance at her and smirk, "Pretty much living there."
She grins. "Nice." She stretches her arms overhead, adding, "That man has the energy of someone who hates surprises."
I wiggle my eyebrows. "He likes control."
"Don't they all." She leans closer and lowers her voice. "Do you call him Daddy?"
I burst out laughing. "No. Should I?"
"Yeah. I bet he'd fall right into the role." Her lips twist into mischief.
"I'll put it on my list of things to try."
"Ohhh. I want to see that list!" she practically squeals.
"Class, we're going into the quiet zone now," the instructor warns, looking at us, and guides everyone into the first slow stretch.
I follow the movement, folding forward, palms pressing into the mat. My muscles protest faintly, but it's a welcome distraction. My breath deepens, steady and deliberate.
For a few moments, it works. Then I turn my head and catch my reflection in the mirror. My eyes drift to the mark on my neck, studying the faint shadow beneath my skin.
"Hands toward the sky," the instructor orders.
I straighten a fraction, adjust my posture, then freeze when the movement pulls at the tender spot.
A sharp awareness flashes through me. My breath stutters. I press my lips together and slowly raise my arms into the air.
The instructor's voice flows over us, talking about presence and intention.
I snicker.
Cloud mutters, "What's so funny?"
"Nothing." I shake my head.
She studies me for half a second longer, then nods. "If you pass out, I'm going into your love shack and stealing those shoes I saw near the couch last night."
I smile and move into a downward dog.
The instructor takes us through a sequence, bodies rising and lowering in unison.
Heat builds slowly, spreading through my limbs, and sweat beads at my temples.
My thoughts should be quiet, but they won't shut up.
They drift back to Red instead, uninvited and insistent until I feel his hand on my back, his thumb brushing my neck, and his lips and tongue teasing the mark he left on my neck while he claimed ownership over me.
"Lean into the stretch," the instructor orders.
I shift into a lunge, studying my reflection, and Red's tongue and lips pop into my mind. New tingles rush to my core.
He took another piece of my virginity last night!
My pulse jumps higher, sharp and traitorous. I focus on balance, on breath, on keeping my expression neutral. No one here knows me. No one here knows what I did last night, or what I walked away from ten minutes ago.
It should make me relax. Instead, it makes everything sharper. By the time class ends, my muscles hum, and my head feels clear in the way that comes after exertion. Cloud flops dramatically onto her mat, staring at the ceiling. "God, I needed that. Are you coming tomorrow?"
"Maybe," I say.
She grins. "That's a yes."
I toss her a coy expression. "I might need to take care of Red before his long day at work tomorrow. Best if you text and I'll either meet you here or take a rain check."
She laughs. "Noted."
We clean, then roll up our mats, grab our stuff out of the cubbyholes, and get on the elevator.
My phone vibrates when the doors open at the stop before Red's floor. His name lights up the screen.
Adrenaline sparks back to life.
Cloud watches me with open curiosity. "So what's the story? Hot boss?"
A redhead glances at us.
I shake my head. "I'll tell you another time."
"Okay, but I want all the details," Cloud states.
"Of course," I offer, and the doors open. I step out. "Bye!"
She waves. "Later."
I glance at the message.
Red: We need to talk about boundaries.
I roll my eyes, open his front door, and step inside. I gather my clothes and shoes and go into his bedroom.
The shower's running. I peek past the doorway, staring at his naked body through the glass, then take my clothes into his closet. I drop my dress into his hamper, and put my stilettos onto a shelf, lining them up neatly beside his.
I flick through his clothes, pull out a red dress shirt, a black blazer, and a pair of pants. Then I crumple my ripped red panties and stick them in his inner jacket pocket.
Red steps into the closet. "I didn't know you were back."
"Here. Wear this today," I reply, holding the clothes in front of him, and add, "Super authoritative."
He leans against the doorways, arms crossed, jaw twitching, towel tight around his dewy waist.
I hang the clothes on the rod, kiss him on the lips, then brush past him. "I'm heading out."
"No," he replies immediately.
I pause, glance back. "No?"
"I'm driving you," he cuts in.
Elated, I spin. "You don't have to."
He flatly replies, "We need to talk." He opens a drawer and pulls out a pair of boxers.
"No," I state.
"We have to discuss boundaries," he insists.
"Don't wear anything under your pants today, is what I meant." My lips curl.
He stares at me, not breathing. Moments pass.
"I want to think about my mouth on your cock and how much easier access will be if you aren't in anything but your pants," I admit.
More tension builds.
"Please," I whisper, taking the pants off the hanger and holding them out to him.
He glances at them, then me. In a dark voice, he declares, "You're a bad girl, Bluebird."
I step closer, release his towel, and it falls to the floor. I stroke his cock with my shaking fingers, widen my eyes, and in a hushed tone beg, "Please, Daddy."
His jaw muscle jumps hard, as if his body's reacting before he's allowing it to.
I circle my thumb over the tip of his cock, trying to regulate my breath.
"You want to think about my hard cock in your mouth all day, Bluebird?" he asks, voice gruff, dick pulsing in my hand.
My breath stutters, "Y-yes, Daddy."
Approval flashes across his expression, then something so dark it makes me shiver. He drops the boxers in the drawer, shuts it, and backs away. He grabs his pants and steps into them.
Warm excitement coils low in my stomach. I finish watching him get dressed.
"Time to go," he says.
"It's so nice of you to want to drive me home, Dr. Mercer. Do I get a kiss?"
He backs me up until I'm against the door, and slides his hand over the back of my head. His fingers curl around my hair, and he tugs, leaning over me. "You're playing with fire this morning, little girl." He drags his knuckles over my hickey, keeping his mouth an inch from mine.
My heart races and every cell in my body quivers. I can barely taunt, "What are you going to do about it, Daddy?"
"I'm not your daddy."
"No?" I arch my eyebrows and pout.
His gaze drifts to my lips. I think he's going to kiss me, but he steps back. "It's time to go. And we're discussing boundaries in the car."