TAMED: #2 in the Fit Trilogy (10 page)

Read TAMED: #2 in the Fit Trilogy Online

Authors: Rebekah Weatherspoon

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial, #Romance, #Erotica, #erotic romance, #spanking, #flogging, #TAMED, #FIT, #FIT TRILOGY, #Egyptian Heroine, #Latian American Hero, #Interracial Romance, #Bdsm, #Sadomasochism

“I think I should spank you first.”

“Why?” Nailah asked like it was stupidest thing he’d ever said. It seemed like he ignored her tone though because he flashed her that sexy-as-fuck smile that seemed to quiet all her doubts.

“You messed up several times last night, cursing at me, forgetting how to address me. You even bit me.” He motioned to the nice purple bruise starting to bloom where his shoulder met his neck. “I definitely think you need a reminder.”

Nailah hesitated a moment. She wasn’t in the fucking mood. She needed to get in the shower and get up the courage to reject his invitation to this party. She did not want to meet his family. They would ask questions and think she was his girlfriend and… No. Just no.

But then part of her thought of how much more she would enjoy lunch with her friends while thinking about her sore ass and how it had gotten that way. Actually, her ass was already sore from the serious pounding she’d received the night before, but she could always stand more. And maybe if she asked nicely, he’d finger her while he spanked her.

She peeled off the fluffy robe she’d snagged from the bathroom. “Make it quick, Sir. I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, I bet you are. Get over here.”

She was across his lap in a flash. Nailah tried not to smile when his hand came down with a loud smack.


When his parents split up, before his mom moved back to Texas, every Thursday night his dad would pick up Armando and his sisters. They’d spend the weekend at his apartment in Hollywood. The place was too small for four people, but his dad always made sure they had a good time. It was the highlight of his week, every week, so much so that he and Connie begged their mother to leave them in LA when she moved.

Most nights his dad would run late, and Maria and Connie would count the red cars driving by until their dad’s red Ford pulled up. As they played their games, and when Armando wasn’t trying to keep them from bumping into random pedestrians or stepping off the curb with their carelessness, he would think about all the stuff he was going to tell his dad after Connie and Maria had gone to bed. They’d have their father/son time in front of the TV and Armando would tell him about school, about baseball, about the girls he liked in his class. Sometimes, he’d make a list so he wouldn’t forget.

That Sunday, Armando lived that anticipation all over again. For the first time since his junior prom, he actually wanted his family to meet someone he was dating. Not that he and Nailah were dating exactly, but he did care about her. He was falling for her. He wanted his family to know her.

He’d already checked himself in the mirror a half a dozen times. And then he got tired of waiting on the couch. He grabbed Maria’s gift and decided to wait out front. He’d have to go out to meet her anyway when she arrived. Nailah had a lot going on, but she knew what time he was trying to leave. She was almost an hour late.

Two black sedans drove by before Connie hit up his phone.

You coming? Dads and Maria keep asking where you are?

His phone lit up again before he could respond. It rang too this time, but it wasn’t Nailah. It was his step-dad.

“Hey Mark. I’m coming.”

“Hey, where are you?” Mark asked. “You okay?”

“Sorry, yeah. I’m good. I was just waiting on my friend. I’ll be over there soon.”

“Okay. Grab some ice on the way. Javier forgot it.”

“Got it. Ice. I’ll be there in a few.”

Armando hung up with Mark and flipped back over to his texts and told Connie he’d be over in a minute. Still nothing from Nailah. He wanted to wait for her, but he was never late when it came to his family. He couldn’t leave Maria hanging like that. Not on her birthday.

He dialed Nailah’s number. It rang twice then clicked over to her voicemail. He listened to her voice, sweetened by her professional demeanor. But Armando didn’t want to speak to Nailah Shalaby of NSL Designs. He was wondering where the hell his girl, his Nailah, was and when she was going to show up.

“Hey, it’s Armando. I have to get over to my dads’ so let me know if you’re just running late or planning on coming later. I’ll shoot you the address. Later.”

Armando stood there, looking down the street for a few more minutes. He knew he shouldn’t wait, but that little kid in him, the hopeful optimist wanted to give her a little more time. She’d show up any moment.

Eventually, he gave up and headed to his truck. His phone vibrated in his pocket as he loaded Maria’s gift into the passenger seat.

It was a text from Nailah.

Can’t make it. I’m on little cousin duty. But have fun with your family. I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow.

Armando felt like he’d been punched in the gut, which made no sense. It was just a barbecue. There would be plenty of barbecues. But still that pain was there, and not the good kind. Armando texted her back, something cool and unaffected. She was right, he’d see her at the gym the next day, anyway.


Nailah sat on the couch between Aziza and Abasi. They were fighting over the Xbox controller, even though Nailah had already decided to let Abasi watch his movie first. They’d be watching another fucking seven-hour marathon of
Frozen
in no time. Her phone hummed in her clenched hands.

Taking the coward’s way out didn’t begin to describe what she had done. She knew for sure, from the moment she flew out of Vegas, after the high from the sex and the spanking and that damn vibrating egg wore off... she knew she couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t meet Armando’s family. She had no idea how she felt about him in a real world, long term sense. But she knew how she felt about meeting parents. Her father had said it a hundred times, even to her brothers. “I’m only interested in the people you’re going to marry. Otherwise, you are wasting my time and their time.” He usually ended that diatribe by wandering off and grunting to himself. The old man was being ridiculous and archaic, but Nailah saw the value in what he said.

When her family loved, they loved full out. Isra wasn’t just Garai’s wife. She wasn’t just a sister-in-law. Nailah treated her like a lifelong sister. They would do anything for each other and Nailah knew that from the first time Garai brought her home. Why? Because she was precious to Garai. They’d done the work on their own terms, and by the time she showed up at the Shalabys’ door, it was a done deal. Isra was already this new piece, this new addition to Garai’s heart, which meant, automatically, she was a piece of Nailah’s heart.

They drove each other crazy, but that’s what Nailah’s family meant to her. She loved and trusted her brothers that much. The idea of calling Armando family at this point was downright laughable. She liked him, but she barely knew him. He’d last two minutes under her dad’s third degree. And what if they broke up? Garai and Haji would hunt Armando down just to get the how and why out of him.

Why would he want to put
her
through that? If Armando’s family was so important to him why would he want to expose Nailah to that intense of a connection if they weren’t even a couple?

Yeah, she had no business going to that party. Still, she felt bad. She didn’t like canceling last minute. It was a classless move. She looked at his text.

Cool. See you tomorrow.

Sorry.
she texted back, as if the shitty apology made up for her blowing him off. She didn’t even call him back. If he didn’t get that she wasn’t the one for him, not in the real world sense, then she’d let him know for sure the next time she saw him. They needed to renegotiate if they wanted to keep seeing each other at all.

“Who are you texting?” Aziza asked.

“No one. Let’s watch
The Expendables
and then we’ll watch
Frozen
again...”

Abasi snatched the controller from his sister and started his two-hour actionfest. Nailah’s phone vibrated again, but she didn’t check. She shoved it under her thigh and settled in to watch the movie.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Armando deserved an award for playing it cool. He endured an hour with Nailah. He was funny, encouraging, cheered her on as she tackled that target heart rate, and not once did he do anything even the slightest bit weird. He didn’t cry. He didn’t beg.
Why? Why didn’t you come to my baby sister’s birthday party? Why?
Which was particularly impressive since he had to deal with a solid hour of everyone at Maria’s party, including Violet and Grant, asking where Nailah was. His dads were looking forward to meeting her. Connie and Maria were looking forward to hazing her into the family, and Violet had some questions about remodeling a rental.

His dad saw the disappointment in his eyes so he didn’t bring it up again, but he did say Nailah had an open invitation to come by whenever she wanted.

She didn’t even mention the party, even when they were done with their workout, so maybe twenty-four hours later was too soon to ask for a rain check.

He finished his day at the gym and then, instead of going home and sitting alone on his couch, he called Master Phillip and asked him to meet for a drink. Armando promised he wouldn’t cry. Master Philip said he could cry all he wanted.


Nailah stood outside of Melrose Fitness, finishing her call with Mrs. Levitz. They were making some great progress on the house. Her daughter’s room was nearly done, and they had finally come to a decision about what to do with her husband’s office. Nailah offered to find a professional organizer to help her sort through Mr. Levitz’s things, and then they would recreate the office into an art studio for her client. Mrs. Levitz had given up painting when they started their family, but now that her youngest was in high school she was ready to get back to her own hobbies. It made Nailah feel good to see the woman getting her groove back. She made a mental note never to let her own groove go.

After they hung up—Mrs. Levitz was telling her about some custom easel she’d found online—she headed into the gym. Armando had been completely normal during their last workout, so Nailah figured it was business as usual. They could plan a time for their next bang session after she gave those sumo squats another go.

Armando came from the back office just as she put her stuff in the cubby. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m feeling pretty fucking buff today, so you might actually have to let me bench press the bar.”

“Totally. We can do that. I have to talk to you about something first.”

Nailah froze. Something in his voice didn’t sound right. When she turned around she noticed a strange look on his face. She knew that look. He wanted to talk. And he knew she was about to bolt.

“I just want to get something off my chest,” he said.

“What if I don’t want to hear it?”

“I’m almost positive you
don’t
want to hear it, but a big part of this, between girl and Sir, is communication. I have something to communicate to you and then you can do whatever you want with that information. I’m not expecting it to magically change anything, I just want to say it. That okay?”

Nailah squeezed her eyes closed. “Yeah, fine.”

“You want to sit down?”

“No. We’re already cutting into my hour. We don’t need to make ourselves comfortable.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll just get on with it. I’m falling in love with you.”

Nailah looked up at him, confused. “Okay?”

“I didn’t think it would be a good idea for us to go on with our other activities without sharing that fact with you.”

“Okay? Is that it?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“So you’re falling in love with me and that’s it? Alright, cool. So what are we doing for a warm up today?”

“Nailah.”

“What?”

“Come on. Say something.”

“No. Fuck you. You said you wanted to tell me something. So you told me and then you said you were done. So, now, I’m done. It’s not my fault you’re a shitty communicator and can’t figure out what you really want to say or clearly articulate what you want from me. Not that it would matter. I don’t know what the other women you’ve dealt with were like, but just because a guy bum-rushes me with his feelings-splooge doesn’t mean I have swallow it and like it. Or ask for more.”

“I don’t just go around telling every woman that I love them. You have to know that much about me by now.”

“That’s true, but I don’t know much else. Is it sweet? Yeah? I guess it is? But you’re giving me no real time to think or respond, so thanks, but no thanks. Can we please work out now?”

Armando’s jaw clenched like he was working out what to say next, but Nailah didn’t have time for that shit. She went over to the treadmill and started her own warm up. She had to pull the plug on the sex. Clearly, he couldn’t handle it. Unfortunately he was definitely the best trainer she’d ever worked with it. If he couldn’t keep it together for sixty minutes, she would have to go looking for another instructor.


Turns out, looking elsewhere wasn’t necessary. They’d come to a new understanding. Armando would continue to train Nailah. She could tell he was upset as their session went on, but he didn’t bring up his bizarre love for her again.

Now with her connections on kinklife and even her access to Master Philip, she didn’t think it would be too hard to find a man to call Sir. When she was ready. If she was ready.

She needed to get Armando out of her mind first. She could start by erasing the pictures of him from her phone. That would probably keep her from lying in her bed in the middle of the night, looking at his sleeping face. He’d posted those pictures of her on his kinklife page. Their captions were simple:
First morning with N.
, but he hadn’t tagged her. She tried not to think too hard about what any of that meant. Again, she scrolled through her phone and when it occurred to her that she actually wished she had more pictures of Armando, she knew she had a problem.

It was almost midnight, but her parents’ door was always open. She grabbed a sweatshirt and her flip-flops then power walked across the pool deck to her parents’ back door. She poked her head into the living room where Haji and Abasi were still up playing video games. Upstairs, her parents’ bedroom door was cracked open.

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