8. William
WILLIAM
“You first,” Dot says, crossing her arms.
I smile.
I should have known this wouldn’t be easy. Dot has always challenged me, from the first day we met.
It’s what I love about her.
“Fine,” I agree. “Do you remember the day that we met?”
Her eyes flash for a moment.
“A little,” she shrugs.
“We said we’re telling the truth, Dorothy.”
“Stop calling me that,” she scowls. “I told you I don’t like it.”
“I’ve always loved your full name,” I say.
There. Another confession. Another truth I can give her, however small. She bites her lip.
“I’m named after my paternal grandmother,” she says. “I…don’t like her very much. I don’t like my dad very much, either.”
“Why?”
“You know immigrant families…” she sighs.
“It’s just a different culture, you know?
I was born here, but my grandmother and father weren’t.
They have another mentality about life. Work is everything to them and if you’re not doing exactly what they think you should be doing with your life, you’re a failure. ”
“That’s hard,” I say.
“It is,” she agrees. “My brother, Darren, bore the brunt of their expectations. He’s the eldest boy in the family. So when he dropped out of pre-med, they flipped out on him. When they realized they weren’t going to break him down, they turned all of that attention on me.”
“Let me guess. Your dad is a doctor, and wanted his kids to be doctors too?”
“A surgeon, actually,” she says. “And yes. It had to be medicine. If not medicine, he probably would have accepted engineering or…law.”
She grimaces at me.
“You know. One of those stable, boring fields.”
“ Extremely boring,” I agree wryly.
“Well, my grandmother Dorothy is awful,” Dot continues.
“She’s like a female version of my dad. But while my dad always focused his attention on Darren, she had her own expectations of me.
Darren was supposed to grow up and be a surgeon.
I was supposed to grow up and…marry a surgeon, I guess. Or an engineer.”
“Or a lawyer?” I ask her.
She laughs.
“Sure, yeah. Grandma Dorothy would probably accept a lawyer, too. But in her mind, how was I supposed to catch a man like that, at my weight? I needed to be thin and beautiful.”
“You are beautiful.”
“To her, thin and beautiful are the same thing. Can’t be beautiful if you aren’t thin, too.”
“That’s bullshit,” I growl.
This earns me an appreciative, glowing expression from Dot. Damn, she’s beautiful. Beautiful and not -thin, at the same time. It’s how I like her, it’s how she’s always been. Why would I want some other version of Dot when she is perfect how she is?
“Well, now you know why I don’t like my real name. Or my grandma,” she laughs.
“Or your dad.”
“Dad never bothered me about my weight,” she shakes her head. “I’m not happy with him for other reasons. Long story short, he cheats on my mom.”
“Cheats? As in, he’s currently cheating?”
“He’s been having affairs for their whole marriage, basically,” she says. “And my mom knows about it and just…stays.”
“That’s horrible.”
“It is. It’s horrible. And complicated. I don’t like to talk about it much. I love my mom, and part of loving her and being in her life is accepting that I can’t control what she chooses to do. Even if her choices make her unhappy. But my dad?”
Dot frowns.
“It doesn’t bother me as much as it bothers my brother, Darren.
But sometimes it drives me insane. Just, certain times.
Like we’ll be at Christmas, and our dad will be sitting at the end of the table in a sweater my mom knitted for him twenty years ago, holding a glass of eggnog, cracking jokes and pretending he’s this awesome husband…
and I want to just shout in his face that it’s all fake. It’s all pretend.”
“It’s hard to hold back feelings like that,” I say. “And it doesn’t feel natural to pretend things are normal. Especially for someone as direct as you are, Dot.”
Dot clears her throat.
“Sorry. Let’s talk about something else,” she says tightly. “This isn’t my favorite subject. You were asking about the day we met?”
“Yeah. Do you remember? Be honest.”
“I remember that day like a movie,” she admits. “It was the first time I saw your face. I wasn’t expecting you to be so damn good looking.”
This information sends a thrill through my body. It travels downward, straight to my cock, which stiffens at the news that Dot was also attracted to me as soon as we met.
“I remember what you were wearing, and I remember what you said to me because it was so…so sexy. I couldn’t tell if you were flirting with me or what, but it was a turn on.”
“What did I say?” I ask her.
I need to know this information like I need oxygen.
“You asked some normal interview questions. And then…you asked if I’m a good student,” she smiles. “And I said yes. And so I asked you if you’re a good teacher. And you said that you can be, but only if a student is motivated.”
She looks at me.
“ Motivated ,” she repeats. “It was like you were daring me to prove myself to you, or something. And it worked. I wanted to please you and impress you after that. I wanted that job so bad, and when I started, I was so damn motivated.”
“Not anymore?” I ask her.
“I always aim to do good work,” she says.
“But that kind of motivation? I kind of tried to push it away. I was so obsessed with you. I was desperate for you to notice me on some kind of deeper level. I wanted you to want me, not just approve of my work. But then I realized this was a crazy fantasy, and that it wouldn’t happen in a million years. ”
“Because you thought I had a girlfriend?” I ask her.
“No. Also because you weren’t attracted to me.”
Her eyes flutter downward.
“I was always attracted to you,” I say urgently. “What we did today in my office is something I’ve been fantasizing about for years.”
She shakes her head, so I tip her chin up to look at me.
“We said we’d tell the truth. Well…this is the truth.
Dot, I’ve wanted to take you on my desk since I first saw you that day.
I’ve held back until now because I didn’t think it was a good idea to cross that line.
But then you sent me those photos and what little self control I had disappeared.
And I don’t think it’s coming back. Not where you’re concerned.
It’s selfish, but I want you. I don’t want to let you go. I love you.”
She blinks at me with a bewildered expression on her face.
“You love me?”
“I do.”
“How? This just began. You can’t love me,” she argues. “It’s too soon.”
“Too bad,” I reply simply. “Because I do love you. I don’t care if it makes sense, Dot. The things I want with you, I’ve wanted for two years. It seems soon to you because you’re just finding out. But I’ve dreamed of making you my wife ever since you stumbled into my office for that interview.”
She looks down.
“What?” I ask her.
“How do I know you won’t get bored of me?” she asks.
“Bored?”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my parents’ marriage, it’s that men get bored. They want variety. They want new things.”
Anger boils inside of me, but not at Dot. I’m angry at her father, for giving her such a bad example of what she could expect from men.
“That’s not what men do,” I say. “That’s what cowards do. Dot, I haven’t gone on a single date since you came to work for me. I had opportunities but why would I want to go on some shallow date with a woman who doesn’t compare to the one my heart actually wants?”
She bites her lip.
“You’ve held my attention nonstop for two years, before I ever laid my hands on your body. Does that sound like I’m a man who would get ‘bored’ of you?”
She shakes her head slowly.
“I guess not,” she says softly.
“I’m going to prove it to you,” I say solidly. “Starting now. And I’ll prove it for the rest of my life, if that’s what you need me to do.”
I drop to my knees on the kitchen floor. Dot’s eyes widen as I hike her skirt up over her hips and dive between her legs. I’ve thought of doing exactly this for so long. Having her thighs pressed against my ears, her scent in my face, is everything.
Her underwear are still in my desk drawer at the office. I can see she never bothered to replace them after she came home. Maybe because, like me, she wanted a physical reminder of what happened between us.
“William!” her hands rake through my hair, trying to pull me back. I won’t budge, though. I need her to know that I’ll never get tired of her body, of her mind, of everything about her.
My tongue presses into her folds, finding her little clit just like my fingers did before. She tastes sweet and salty and like I’m never going to be able to stop.
My cock is begging for a release but it’ll have to wait. This is about her. Showing her that even if I don’t “get off”, getting her off is enough for me. I need to give her pleasure just as much as I need my own. Need to watch her fall apart at my own doing, again and again.
I’ve already given her one orgasm. Now, with her thighs pressed against my ears, I give her another. Her hands go from pulling me away…to pushing me inward, closer. I suck and lick her harder, fingers digging into her hips as I pull her to the edge of the chair. She bucks her hips, screams my name.
I don’t care if anyone hears. In fact, part of me hopes someone does hear. From this day onward, Dot belongs to me. Soon enough, everyone in Wild Bronco will know that.
This woman is mine.