Authors: Bebe Wilde
“Oh, I got it,” he said and shook his head. “Let’s haul them in.”
“He attacked me first,” Roman said. “He’s the one at fault.”
“Is this true?” the cop asked me.
I nodded. It was true. So, I said, “Yes, he threw the first punch. He attacked him.”
“
Teagan
!”
Kier shouted, aghast.
“It’s true, Kier!” I shouted back. “You came in here and started the fight!”
“But…
But…
Fuck! You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I’m just telling the truth!”
“Do you want to press charges?” the cop asked Roman.
“No,” he said. “Can you let me go now?”
“If you can if you promise that this is the end of it and that you’ll behave yourself.”
He nodded. “I can do that. You can let him go now, too, if that’s okay.”
“Sure?” he asked.
Roman nodded. “Yes, please.
Merci.”
He
uncuffed
him,
then
turned to Kier. “What about you? You gonna start another fight?”
Kier shrugged then nodded. “I’m cool.”
“Good,” he said and
uncuffed
him. “I’ll escort you out. Let’s go, buddy.”
Kier jerked his arm away from the cop and glared at Roman, who glared back. Then, without provocation, he ran at him and tried to get another punch in. Roman ducked and grabbed him by the middle then they fell to the floor once again, fighting like cats and dogs.
Or two men who loathed each other.
It seemed to take forever for the cops to pull them apart again and they even called in for backup. More cops came, about four or five, and then hauled Roman and Kier out of the house and into the cars. Then they took them, I presumed, “downtown.” That’s what they always say on those cop shows, so that’s what I assumed they did.
I watched from the front door as the cars crept down the long, winding dark driveway and out of sight. I didn’t know what to do. I went inside and tried to tidy up the living room, almost erupting in rage myself at the state it was in. Expensive vases were broken. There was a hole in the leather couch… The wreckage went on and on. I’d have to hire someone to come in here and fix this
and
I’d have to find a way to pay for it. Fucking Kier!
I picked up the groceries on the floor, smiling at Roman’s choices, wondering what that meal would have tasted like. But I’d never know. I put what wasn’t damaged up and threw the rest out. Then I turned a few lights off and gathered my bag and my shoes.
Then there was nothing I could do. I went to the front door, locking it on my way out. Then I sat down on the front step and waited. I didn’t know how long it would take, but I was willing to put in the time. In an hour or so, a big, black SUV I didn’t recognize came crawling up the drive. Roman was in the front passenger seat and another man, who I presumed was a friend of his, drove. The SUV stopped; Roman got out then the SUV backed up, turned around then crept down the drive softly.
Roman turned to the house, then saw me sitting there waiting on him. “Oh, no, you shouldn’t be here,” he said. “You’re fired.”
I nodded. “I
kinda
thought that,” I said.
He stared at me. “He must really love you,” he said. “But I can’t have this.”
I burst into tears. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m sorry.”
He nodded with the contempt only the French can get away with. “Just leave,
Teagan
.”
I nodded. I couldn’t believe it was over, even before it really began.
“Wait,” he said and held out his hand.
“I don’t understand,” I said, confused.
“The key to the house,” he said. “I believe you called it an agent key.”
“Oh, of course,” I said and fished it out of my bag, then dropped it in his hand.
And without another word, he opened the front door and went inside, closing it behind him, shutting it in my face, thus shutting me out of his life. I stared at that door for a while. Then I realized it wasn’t just the house, or the commission from selling it, that I wanted from him. I wanted more. And if you don’t ask, you can never hope to receive, if only you have the courage to try.
I screwed up my nerve and knocked on the door. I knocked four times, waiting, hoping,
praying
he’d open it. And then he did.
End Book 2
Continued in Book 3 - A Little Bit Controlling
A Little Bit Controlling
The A Little Bit
Trilogy
Book 3
Bebe
Wilde
Abernathy and Monroe
A Little Bit Controlling.
Copyright © 2013 by
Bebe
Wilde.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For more information, email [email protected]
Published by Abernathy and Monroe.
eBook
ISBN–13:
978-1-938107-34-4
eBook
ISBN–10:
1-938107-34-9
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
For Him.
Continued from Book 2 - A Little Bit Rough
Contents—A Little Bit Controlling
It was all about control. But I was the one who gave him the handcuffs.
He stared at them for a moment then casually tossed them on the coffee table. He looked up at me with a mixture of curiosity and expectation.
What now?
I felt slightly embarrassed, especially because of the handcuffs, a leather and lace pair I’d picked up at a sex shop, on a lark, a gift even, for him. We’d never used handcuffs before. Would we try now? We’d done this before, many times. He’d set it all in motion. It was him that had sparked this in me, whatever
this
was and it was right now, at this moment, indefinable.
“I trust you,” I said.
He refrained from rolling his eyes and said, “Trust is good,
Teagan
. However, control is better. It’s power.”
Control is better.
Control
was
better. It was power. Whoever was in control had the power. Roman had always been in control and it was starting to irritate me just a little.
Me
giving him the handcuffs was my way of telling him what to do. He didn’t like that. He called the shots; it was that simple.
I stepped back to study him. He was so fucking cool it was unbelievable. How could a man be
this
cool? But he was. He was cool, calm, collected. That was Roman. I couldn’t look him in the eye but I could stare at him all day long.
But, God, to be like him, to be like that, a person who just was, who didn’t have all this baggage or emotional hang-ups…
Well, that would be the coolest thing in the world.
“Just don’t,” he said.
“What do you mean? Don’t what?” I asked.
“Don’t try,” he said. “Just do what I want you to do.”
“Why would I do that?” I asked.
“For me,” he
said,
a smart-assed twinkle in his eye.
“For my love.”
I rolled my eyes, hating the fact that he loved to tease me like this. “No. You need to get something straight. I would never do that. I refuse.” I stopped and stared at him then added, for good measure, just to piss him off, “I will never love you, either.”
“But you will,” he said. “I know you will.”
“I won’t,” I said and refused to even entertain the idea.
“There is a price to love,” he told me, nodding slightly. “Are you willing to pay?”
“I don’t think so.”
“So much change in the last week,” he said. “What happened?”
I didn’t want to go into that. But I was having doubts, as usual. That’s why I had done this, why I was here, in this moment, wanting him to prove something. Prove what? That was anyone’s guess.
But his mention of love…
I didn’t know what to do with that. Love was all-encompassing to me. It meant everything and yet I ran from it, turned away from it. I had my reasons, of course, but I knew there was something else happening. We were now headed in that direction, some direction, if only I could make the commitment. Sure, something was making me hesitate. Perhaps it was a sense of finality that scared me. I was his real estate agent and once his house sold… Well, what then? Well, I would no longer see him that often. Would he make me his girlfriend? Did I want that? What would happen? The anticipation was killing me almost as much as the not knowing what would happen. Just what would happen?
“I know what you want,” he said, telling me with his eyes that he did, he did know what I wanted.
I cringed. I did want it. I wanted it just one more time. I wanted the bondage, the feeling of being out of control and letting him take the reins. But would he tie me up to set me free? Would I play the game again? Would he? I wanted more, that was for sure, but was I willing to do it again?
I was.
“Will you play the game?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Will you play a different game this time?”
I hesitated, not knowing if I should. “Roman, I—”
He cut me off.
“Yes or no?”
Yes or no? How about no? Maybe we should just have sex like normal people for once in our lives.
“
Teagan
?” he said softly. “Will you?”
I nodded. I would. We weren’t purists. We made our own rules to the games. They left me wanting more, wanting to see how far we might push it. They were exciting and they were addicting. He was addicting. I could have fallen so hard for him, if only I would allow myself to do so. But right then, I would do as he wanted. I was going to let him take full control. He’d take it anyway. So, I might as well concede.
“One moment,” he said in his slight French accent.
I turned to watch him leave the living room in his fabulous mid-century house, the one I was trying to sell for him. The living room was sunken, two-steps down. I stared around the room, taking in the extravagant and expensive furniture and the art on the walls. There was a mirror, too, at the back of the room, a big, silver-leafed thing that took up almost an entire wall. I stared into it, at myself. I was pretty, beautiful even, with a petite and firm body and strawberry blonde hair. Roman was so much bigger than me. His body was solid, manly.
His face handsome.
His hair a dark blonde, cut short and set off his deep and electrifying blue eyes.
He came back into the room, holding something behind his back. I stared up at him from my position on the couch and we didn’t speak for a moment, then he said, “You are hesitating.”
I thought about that. I was. Things had happened to make me do so. It wasn’t entirely my fault.
“Can you play this game?” he asked.
I didn’t know if I could. I told him as much.
“Very well, then,” he said. “If you can’t do it, be someone else.”
He tossed something at me. I caught it and held it up. It was a mask; one made of rich black velvet and embroidered in blue silk. It was something someone would wear to a masquerade ball to keep themselves hidden but still part of the crowd. I got it. He wanted me to play a part of some sort.
I liked it. I put it on without hesitation. “Who do you want me to be?” I asked, and stared at myself in the mirror. I was dressed to his liking: A banded cocktail dress that fit tightly and showed my body off in a supremely flattering way. The stilettos were five-inches and a deep, lipstick red. My hair was pulled back in a tight bun and my makeup fresh and light. This was the way he liked me. He loved to see my body contained in such a dress, in such a way. It was constricted and yet it was on display for him. The mask added to the allure. I looked like I could be off to a fabulous masquerade ball. But I wasn’t going anywhere, not anytime soon anyway.
“Be whoever you like,” he said. “Do whatever you like,
Teagan
. That is the name of this game. To be someone who could do whatever they want to do.”
Whoever I liked? Whatever I liked?
Hmmm…
I didn’t know what to do. “You want me to choose?” I asked.
He shrugged, leaving the decision up to me. But if I made the wrong decision, he would be upset and that might lead to punishment, the riding crop or even his hand across my ass, putting me back into my place, happily, of course. Usually it was about him doing whatever
he
liked to
me,
but part of me was trying to turn that around. Maybe I should just get over it and just let him be in control, like he normally was. So, I said, “But I want you to do whatever you want.”
He didn’t like my answer. That wasn’t what this game was about.
I realized my blunder and sighed. “Roman?” I said. “Is that okay?”
“Why not
be
someone else?” he said.
“Who?”
I asked.
“Someone who trusts,” he replied.
I thought about that. I wasn’t a person who trusted much, that was true. However, I’d play his game but that’s all I would do. And I’d play it because it was going to be fun. That’s what this was all about, the time we shared together. It was about playing games. The games were sometimes difficult but always ended with massive orgasms and an unspoken promise of more to come. I loved the games and kept coming back for more. What I didn’t understand was that he was using the games as a way to get to me, to break down my barriers.
“Just be someone else,” he said.
“What?” I asked, thinking I could go along with that. It was about control, his controlling me, his being more than a little bit controlling.
Control.
I knew why he did it but I didn’t understand his reasoning at first. I just thought he was kinky and liked this stuff. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was much more complicated than that. While my only thoughts were, “
More,
please?” his thoughts were on something deeper, richer, more satisfying.
But right then his command was for me to be someone else, to be someone that wasn’t afraid to do what she wanted. He was willing to comply, if only on his terms. He came over to me and then pushed me down on the couch. He was getting that look in his eye. He was going to give it to me, give me what for. My heart began to race with the anticipation.
“Do you like that?” he asked.
I did. I liked it a lot.
“Real dominance means submitting in your mind, not on your knees.” He climbed over me. “Do you want that? Do you?”
Was that what I wanted? To be put in my place, to be shown who the man was? To be freed? To be let go? To be pushed to the point that I could no longer say no to the feelings he was stirring inside of me? Yes, I wanted that. I wanted him to take control, to throw me up against the wall and fuck me.
Hard.
Was it wrong that I wanted it? I didn’t know and I didn’t care.
“Then you have to ask for it,” he said. “You have to want it. Why? Why do you want it?”
I didn’t know. Not yet anyway.
“Do you want it?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Tell me why.”
What did I want to feel?
Submission?
No. No. I wanted to feel…
Like I was being put in my place, like I knew my place in the world, in his world.
To feel…
Oh.
God.
Like a woman. So, yes, I wanted to feel submissive, like I wasn’t the one in control. I wanted to feel like a woman. It was there, instinctually, eating at me:
Make me feel like a woman, like I am meant to feel.
He was a man. He could do that. He could give me that. I knew he could. He’d done it before, hadn’t he?
He got up and stood in front of me, looking down. I stood and tiptoed to get a kiss. He complied and kissed me hard, the way he usually did. I responded with a soft moan and pressed my body into his. He pulled back and then pushed me with determination to my knees. Was this the way it was supposed to be between a man and a woman?
“Be someone else,
Teagan
,” he said.
I looked up at him. Yes, I could do this. I could be someone else. And blowjobs were something I enjoyed giving to my man. While I loved for him to be in control, I loved having that bit of control over men, over the cock, putting them in a position of not being able to move, lest I stop. This was what he wanted, for me to be that woman like that, to be totally uninhibited, unapologetic. I did it without hesitation.
I unzipped his pants and pulled his already hard cock out. I rubbed it all the way up and down the length for a few seconds before taking it in my mouth. He inhaled sharply as my lips made contact,
then
I put it in my mouth, sucking it hard, taking it all the way in. He held the back of my head as I continued to give it to him, taking my time to give him an enormous amount of pleasure. Once I tasted his pre-cum, I pulled back.
In one quick instant, he grabbed me up under the arms and into his. I went with him, feeling a surge of passion, wrapping my legs around his waist. Our mouths found one another’s and we began to suck and lick and just kiss, long, amorous kisses, hot kisses,
hard
kisses. I hadn’t kissed anyone like I kissed him in… Well, in a long damned time. It felt good to kiss like that, to be so into it, to want more, to know where it would lead. That was the exciting part, knowing that this was merely a precursor to lots more good stuff.
He carried me to the mirror, pressed my back up against it and began devour me with his hands and mouth. I slid out of his arms, my feet planted firmly on the floor, and just stood there, feeling these wonderful sensations as I looked at him, wanting to grab him but holding back the way I knew he wanted me to. He turned me around and unzipped my dress and, together, we pulled it off me. I stepped out of it, leaving just my underwear and the stilettos on.
He surveyed my body and nodded with approval, with lust. He wanted me. I felt a surge of power from that, from his pure, unadulterated lust. I was about to reach out to him when he stepped back. He shook his head slightly and smiled a little.
“I have something for you,” he said and left the room.
I started to call out to him, not wanting him to leave me even for one second, but instead just stood there, almost naked and waiting. I looked down at my panties and bra, a set made of black lace. The bra pushed my breasts up so they looked delicious. I longed for his hands on them.
He was back quickly, coming towards me, for me, with something in his hand. I stared at it. It was vibrator, a long and bulbous tipped flesh colored vibrator.
“Spread your legs, please,” he said.
I complied and opened them. He got down on his knees, turned the vibrator on and pressed it between my legs. My response was automatic. I gasped with pleasure, with the sensations it was giving my clit. I wanted to move against it and get that orgasm which was right there,
right there
and wanting release.
But he wasn’t finished yet.
He grabbed my panties and yanked them down and off my body. I spread my legs wider and immediately felt the vibrator again and he was slipping it inside of me. I gasped and bit down hard on my bottom lip. It was too much. I’d used a vibrator before, obviously, but had never had one used on me quite like this.