“So…you’re not thinking that, by keeping your place, you have an escape if you get sick of me?”
“No.” He laughed.
But I didn’t. I didn’t at all.
Carefully, I tried to explain why I was freaking out. “Because, see, when I was twenty, there was this guy, and for five years, I went to his place, and then one day, there were packing boxes lined up against the bedroom wall, and all the furniture was gone…except for the bed. That was there. That was there so he could have one last fuck before he threw me away.”
“Don’t do that,” he said gently.
I was being matter-of-fact. I didn’t raise my voice or get bitchy. I was simply telling him what I knew. “All I’m saying is, the fact I felt you retreat just scared the shit out of me.”
He grabbed my hips and yanked me forward, flush against his body. “I cannot and will not give you guarantees, Katherine. There are too many unknowns in this world that could conspire against either one of us. My intentions are to keep you bound to my heart until the day I die, fuck you hard and often in between, and if I pass before you, know that you’ve built a shrine to worship my memory, wear black and wail from morning till night, because nothing else would even come close to what we had. Are you understanding now why I don’t want to rush you into all of that and fuck it up?”
“I was wet before,” I said on a shaky breath. “I’m very wet now.”
“Do you understand?” he asked. Maybe his patience was wearing thin, because he seemed almost angry, but I couldn’t help myself; it was hot.
“I like your cock,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“Katherine…” he warned, and I felt the tension build in his body.
“I understand,” I whispered.
My voiced shuddered as the words left my mouth, and that’s when he pushed me back and ripped the zipper open on my jeans, yanked them down along with my panties, over my ass, turned me around…
And spanked me. The sound of the smack still echoing in the room, my nipples instantly hard, and I just could not believe he fucking did that!
“Oh…my…Jesus! Did you just…spank me?”
“You’ve never been spanked?” he asked, with surprise I might add.
“Who do you think would dare spank me?”
“That sarcasm is going to see more than my hand on your ass. You deserved it for making me wait.”
Smack!
His hand came down again, and this time, he let three fingers glide down the small of my back, between my cheeks and through the wetness gathered at the opening of my sex.
“More?” he asked with a rough voice, and that made me instantly want to submit to whatever the fuck he asked of me.
“Just fuck me,” I requested, but it sounded like a ragged plea.
“Hard?” He moved from the couch to the floor, stepping on a plate and cracking it in the process. Then he pulled my jeans and panties free of my feet.
“Until I scream,” I replied.
And when I knew he was behind me, preparing, the clack of his belt buckle, the tracks of his zipper, the fevered movement of cotton on skin, he curved the long fingers of each masculine hand on my hips and said, “I can do that,” and surged inside me, a moan from his throat and a whimper from mine accompanied it. “Every time I fill you with my cock, every time I feel you wrapped around me, I feel like I’ve come home, and I’m telling you now…” He pushed further and stayed buried to the hilt as he leaned down and promised, “No one else but me, my Katherine. Ever.”
Holst
Halloween had always been a favorite holiday of mine as a child. I enjoyed the fact I could be a superhero, never a villain. With a cape and a mask to hide my true identity, I was able to pretend I had the power to fix everything that was wrong with my mother’s life. When you’re a child to a single parent, your happiness is entirely wrapped up in theirs, even if they make you the center of their universe and try as they might to shelter you from reality, which my mother had. If she was unhappy, I always knew.
And she often hid that unhappiness.
I did my best to make things as easy as possible. I was a good kid and stayed that way until I left home at eighteen and moved in with friends. Those years, from eighteen to the time I bought the house with Chelle, I always took care of the women I was with. I took care of their feelings, let them down easy when it ended…because it would inevitably end. Even with Chelle, I loved her, but I made the commitment with the intention to “settle down” and think about having a family. I became serious with her because I thought it was time.
But Chelle was the worst possible choice. As a person, she was fun, she had a great smile and laugh. However, those qualities masked the fact she was not a good match for me. When I asked Katherine if she was an alcoholic, I needed to confirm her drinking, as I had suspected, was to hide her pain. I needed to know she wouldn’t turn to alcohol any time something came along she couldn’t handle. Because I had given into temptation in a moment of weakness. I may not have been that man anymore, but the fear of becoming him again was always there. Katherine simply taught herself to cope by any means possible. It was just lucky that she’d come to realize this on her own, before I entered her life, her bed, and her heart.
One of the reasons I hired an employee so soon after opening Bear Claw was the simple fact I wanted a future with Katherine. Working together six days a week, sleeping together each night…with the exception of going to my place to get clothes or do laundry, working out or surfing, we were together.
I wouldn’t say I was terrified she would burn out on this sudden relationship; concerned was probably a more apt term. And in feeling the anxiety of this realization, as we handed out free hot cider, I turned to her and said, “You’re done for the night, Katherine.”
“I’m…I’m what?” she asked, confused.
“I’ve got this under control. I’ll see you later.” I poured two cups for two men waiting on the sidewalk as their trick-or-treaters traipsed up to Paper Petal and Beachy Bride for candy.
“I don’t…” She stopped when she realized the two men were hanging on her every word.
Quietly, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t need you to manage me. It doesn’t make me feel equal. It makes me feel like an employee…amongst other things.”
“Katherine, we both work long hours. I’m simply suggesting that I’ve got this. We don’t need two people, and it would be fine with me if you want to do something for yourself. Maybe join your friends upstairs,” I said.
“First of all, I haven’t broken the seal with Dee yet, and second, you didn’t suggest, you told me. You bossed me. It’s all in language, babe.”
Babe. Her thinly veiled annoyance reared its head.
“Yes, you’re correct. I will be more careful about that in the future. But if it’s all the same to you…”
She didn’t let me finish. The strong, independent Katherine misunderstood me when I suggested she pace herself.
“I guess I’m breaking the seal now. Bye,” she said and began to storm off.
Only seconds later, Frodo joined me. “I believe I saw stomping,” he mused. He now had a full beard. I heard Zack one day refer to it as his “winter beard.” But he was changing, and not just his appearance.
“I’m forcing her to spend time away from me.” I smiled, and I did it with unadulterated, male pride.
“The pull of a great man to a beautiful woman is powerful, my friend.”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
“These are unchartered waters for our Katherine.”
“I’m aware,” I confirmed, and looked across the street at the small hotel and the ocean beyond. “I dissolved the relationships in my life when I took this on,” I told him. Frodo had this…thing about him that encouraged confession. I wasn’t Catholic, but I felt Frodo would’ve made a good priest.