The Good Girl (12 page)

After adjusting the beaded top, I felt to make sure that the rest of the outfit was fitted just right. Yeah, he had picked me out the perfect costume. It was all purple and gauzy, and completely see through. I loved the way it hugged my hips, the way it tinkled when I shook or spun around. Confident that I was ready, I fit the veil over my face and walked out to see him.

In the time that I was gone, he had also changed into a costume. For his, harem pants and a matching vest over a bare chest. Behind the veil, I licked my lips and imagined jumping him. He looked that good. Smiling when he saw me, he hit a button on his iPod and turned some music on.

“So this is role play,” I said with a smirk.

“Silence!” He hissed. Then he clapped his hands together sharply twice before barking his new command. “Come. We must eat. Time to build strength before you perform.”

Winking at him, I walked daintily to his side, knelt and uncovered the food to find a selection of meats, cheeses, and fruits. While I wanted to tease him about the historical inaccuracies, instead, I smiled and played along because…honestly, how many chances does a girl get to be all Lawrence of Arabia?

We fed each other without speaking. There was something so special about this moment that neither of us wanted to break the mood, alter the ambiance. When we had filled up, and after sharing a drink from a single goblet, he gave his next set of instructions.

“Now dance.” He clapped again, punctuating his order.

Surprised at my own obedience, I rose from my seat on the pillows and began to sway in tune to the music. Though I had never taken a belly dance class, it mattered not. Movies had given me plenty of ideas.

While my hips rolled and swayed, he leaned back on the pillows and watched, completely mesmerized. It was precisely the reaction I had hoped for. Twirling around a couple more times, I watched patiently as he rose from the pillows and walked over to me. Given the rise in his harem pants, I had done something very right.

“Come here,” he ordered. His eyes, though blue, showed a smoldering look he struggled to hide. This man was on fire.

Slowly, seductively, I walked towards him, one bare foot in front of the other, head high, shoulders back, in a way both befitting a Stone and desert seductress. When I reached him and stood before him, I waited proudly, hidden behind my purple veil, to see what he had planned. The wait...was a short one.

One hand shot out and grabbed the back of my neck firmly, possessively. He leaned in. “Oh, wild temptress,” he moaned as he kissed me hard. His lips crushed mine. It seemed as though this time, I would be bruised. There was my bad boy. Apparently, every once in a while, he liked it rough. At the moment, I was more than willing to provide that release that he so obviously needed.

His other hand wrapped around my waist and yanked me up against his body.
In the heat of passion, he had hefted me off the ground and instinctively, I had wrapped my legs around him. Now he had taken several steps toward the mound of pillows before carefully lowering me to the ground. He pulled back from the kiss long enough to study my costume up close. With one finger, he followed the curve of the beaded bra, making my skin shiver. His forehead glued to mine, his hands slowly traveled down my sides until he found my hips. Fingers locked on the fabric, he pulled back and stared at me as he yanked the clothes off my lower extremities, then throwing them over his shoulder.

Standing, he pulled his pants off, exposing a raging hard on. “Look what you do to me,” he said intensely. “Do you have any idea how badly I want you?”

Shaking my head, I murmured, “No...show me.”

Reaching for a condom he had sitting on one of the pillows, he quickly ripped it open and rolled it on.
Me, I was already panting. Despite already having achieved numerous orgasms already this day, I wanted more. Would it always be like this with him? I wouldn’t know. Our time was...limited.

Before I could think about anything else, he had flipped me over, shoved some pillows under my pelvis, and was sliding into my ready opening. After the shock wore off, I rather liked it...the feeling of him slamming into me, the angle of entry, the way he gripped my hips. For the first time, I felt really sexy, really desirable. That was what I had wanted from the beginning with him, yet now...it felt hollow. His pace slowed and I could tell that he had come. Finally, he pulled out and peeled off the condom. I was lying on my side, watching him quietly, trying to process what had happened.

After he cleaned up his hands, he pulled me into his arms.
We were quiet for less than a minute before he broke the silence. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see your face,” he said quietly.

“No?” I asked. This was new. I really did need that explanation.

“No, doll,” he murmured into my hair.
“You have the most perfect ass I have ever seen. It’s shaped like a heart when you bend over like that. From the first moment I woke up in bed naked with you, I wanted to have sex that way. It’s like making love to your ass,” he said in an effort to explain. Looking flustered, he stopped. “I can’t explain it,” he groaned in frustration. “Just know that was really special to me.” Then he kissed me on the very tip of my nose. “You are positively adorable.”

Nestled into his arms, I waited. Surely he would break the spell. All I had heard was that he had just made love to me. It was time for him to tell me which numbers we had conquered on the list. That’s how he ruined every moment and kept me grounded in the reality of our relationship. This was business, a project; and we were no love match. Ah, but the words I waited for never came. Soon we drifted off and for the first time since I drank that stupid laced drink, I felt right.

Though he hadn’t spoke the words aloud, when we made it back to his place late that afternoon, I noticed he had crossed off three more items on our list. It made me smile. We really had made a dent in the list quickly. This time it was #28: sex in the broad daylight, #30: sex in a tent in the wilderness, and #37: sexual role play. I’d gladly join his harem any day.

This morning, when I woke at 7am, he was busy making breakfast. “My word,” I groaned as I rolled out of bed. “Where do you find the energy?” Standing, I stretched.

Laughing, he said, “Well, I knew that you had a big day today, so I thought I’d make sure you had a good breakfast to get you going.” He gestured to the two plates before him.

“Do I smell bacon?”
I asked as I walked over to the island where he was working. “Wow. Slabs of bacon. Nice.”

“Yeah, and I was going to make scrambled eggs.
How does that sound?” He waited happily while I nodded.

“Sounds pretty perfect.” I released a blissful sigh.

Leaning over the counter, he asked, “Coffee, tea, orange juice?”

Staring at him for a moment, I realized how much this guy really wanted to make me happy. My insides were jelly, my outsides were glowing, and my heart was going to be breaking. There was another week of this. God, when had I turned into Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman?
Oh, and he had asked me a question. “Umm...orange juice, please.”

“I’ll squeeze it for you in just a minute,” he said as he poured the eggs into the pan.

It was too much. “Do I have time for a shower?” I asked quickly.

Glancing about the kitchen, he said, “Make it quick if you want a hot meal.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said warmly as I rushed from the room.

My shower was mostly spent doing the usual, yes, but also giving myself a huge pep talk. That talk mostly boiled down to one concept: by dreading the end, I was going to mess up the now. There were a lot of moments ahead of us that I really wasn’t going to want to miss. The solution seemed simple, the process...obvious. It was all about keeping my head in the game, not in the clouds. Stones were always grounded. Sometimes, I just forgot.

By the time I emerged from the bathroom, I was clean, fresh, and dressed for success. My hair was pulled back in a tight bun. My skirt was short, magenta, and flouncy, perfect for spring, especially when paired with that tight black sleeveless shirt. The best part was seeing Wyatt’s reaction.

“You look amazing,” he said. “I don’t even want to let you out of my sight. Too bad we both have busy days, huh?”

“Yeah,” I agreed as we both ate the breakfast he had cooked. “These eggs are perfect.”

“Glad you like them. I spent a lot of time with the cook when I was a kid. She taught me all her secrets.” He picked up a piece of bacon and began loading his mouth. “Yeah, I do have manners. You’ve seen them. I just am trying to save time this morning. There’s something I really need to do before we leave and don’t see each other again until dinner.”

“Oh really?” I commented, not really paying attention. “And what is that?” At the moment, my face was buried in my calendar, trying to ensure I had everything I needed for the day. Somehow, I never even noticed when he slipped off his stool, walked around the island, and wrapped his arms around me.

“You,” he whispered in my ear.

Suddenly, I sat up straight and whipped around to look at him. “Excuse me?”

“You asked what I had to do before we spent the day apart. I gave you my answer.” He looked me in the eye while giving me his most playful smile.

“You said
me
?” There was no hiding my confusion. Flustered, I stood and started to walk away. “I really have to get going…” When I reached the closet near the door, he came and stood behind me, pressing against me.

Shifting some, his pelvis pressed against my butt until I felt it, his erection. Inhaling sharply, I smiled as I leaned against the wall. One of his hands ran down my side, past my hip, down my outer thigh, resting on the bare skin. The anticipation was killing me. Thankfully, he didn’t make me suffer for long. Before I realized what we were doing, he slipped his hand under my skirt, sliding his hand upward until he had found the string of my thong.

Chuckling in my ear, he said simply, “Sorry, doll. I’ll buy you new ones.” Then I felt a tug and realized he had killed my thong. It didn’t even faze me. Oh, don’t get me wrong. It was hot, but the practical old Willow would have been so upset over the loss of perfectly good panties that she would have missed out on the wonder that was…this…this moment with Wyatt.

Moving my body, I started to turn around, but he refused to allow that. “Stay,” he said, “just like this.” A moment later, I heard the unmistakable sound of his belt being unhooked and his zipper coming down. He was reaching into his pocket and I was cheek against the wall panting for him. Sure enough, the next sound I heard was that of a condom wrapper being ripped open.

Before long, he was in me, slamming into my vagina, making me all hot and bothered with all of his constant surprises. Imagine that. Wyatt was nothing like I expected and yet everything I needed all at the same time. Releasing a blissful sigh earned me some passionate kisses down my neck that made me moan. Soon his hand was around my waist and then moving lower until he could stroke me and further stoke my fire. Inside, I was ablaze, ready to explode. His touch was the gasoline, fueling it. Then it happened…inside, the heat, the friction, I completely shattered. My knees started to give out.

“Almost, doll,” he murmured into the back of my neck. “Hold on.”

So I did. Pressing my face and hands flat against the wall, I did my best to hang on, to stand when all I wanted to do was turn around and crush him to me. More than anything I wanted to plant kisses all over his face, his chest, and over his heart. Instead, I did as I was told and reminded myself that this…was business, but thank God for all that pleasure.

Moments later, he let out a moan that I hadn’t heard him emit before, but I recognized the other tells, the way his breathing changed, his pace changed, until slowly he withdrew.

“How am I supposed to work after that?” I joked when he finally released his grip on me.

Shaking his head, he said, “Beats the hell out of me. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to make it until tonight without seeing you.”

“Don’t worry,” I teased. “We can have lots more sex tonight.”

“It’s not just the sex,” he argued, “I like talking to you, being with you.” Then his face changed. “I’m sorry. Gotta get ready. Have a great day at work!” He shouted as he bolted for the bathroom.

More confused than ever, I found myself a new pair of panties, gave myself a whore bath to remove the condom smell, and headed out the door. Though that took me a good ten minutes, he still hadn’t come out before I left. Strange, but that was Wyatt.

Just as I started to back out of the driveway, I received a text. It was him.

Wyatt: Good news! #25: sex standing up against a wall and #44: a quickie in a skirt are done!

He seemed so happy about it, but all I could think was that each item we ticked off the list brought us closer to parting ways. Considering his past, his present, and his future plans, that might be just what he intended. Frowning, I headed to campus.

Apparently I was still wearing that frown when I headed into the
Life on the Lake
office. Naturally, Molina was there to comment on it. “Girl, I have no idea what you have to be unhappy about,” she said shaking her head.

“I can’t be unhappy?” I asked sarcastically.

With one eyebrow raised, she said honestly, “If I had that hot bartender to come home to every night, I’d be smiling in anticipation all day long. Wait…unless he’s fair game?” She winked.

In the past, I would have really hated her for the ease with which she managed to start a conversation with me. Now, I hated her for insinuating that she might just snatch up Wyatt. “No, Molina, we’re still very much together.” With a scowl, I tried to concentrate on editing the articles that were piled on my desk.

“Oh, I forgot, but Jacqueline wants us each to answer a letter while we compete for this position. She said to check our email, that she sent us each one,” she said absently.

My interest was piqued. “What did yours say?” I asked her. It was easier to be nice to her now when it involved work.

“Um, I didn’t look. I thought it might be fun to look together,” she said. She stared at me quietly for a moment, no doubt assessing my mood, trying to decide if I was going to cooperate, play along.

Nodding, I decided instantly that I was. Molina wasn’t the enemy; she was competition. Somehow, I had to remember that. “Let’s look together. You want to read yours first?” While I spoke, I had been working to open my email.

“Sure!” Molina said cheerily. Clearing her throat, and being playfully dramatic, she started to read. No wonder everyone loved her, even I couldn’t help but smile at her antics. “Dear Aphrodite,” she began. I cringed. If asked, I’d admit I thought that was a terrible name for the column. Of course, no one asked, certainly not Jacqueline. “The last thirty years of my life have been spent being the perfect wife, perfect mother, perfect hostess. My husband’s life hasn’t changed one iota, but I need our life to change, our marriage to change. Please give me some advice for how to recreate this demure and boring person I have become. Instead, I want to reignite the passion in my marriage or maybe ignite it for the first time. My sanity and our family depend on it. Signed…Tired of Being Ignored.”

Leaning back in my chair, I looked at Molina for a moment before I spoke. “Out of curiosity, what is the email address on that one?” I asked quietly. A thought had occurred to me while she read. That woman…could be anyone…or it could be my mother.

“Looks like it says…[email protected],” she said. Then she gasped at the implication and looked at me.

“Yup. My mom. Who knew?” I looked at her with a half smile. Sitting forward, I stared at her sadly. “We have never been close. She was always so…strict, so rigid, set such impossible standards.” I sighed sadly. “Who knew she felt just like me inside? Who knew we shared such similar wants and desires because no matter how you read that, in my mind, I hear a woman begging to be loved and wanted by her husband.”

Reaching out, Molina clamped her hand on mine. Staring at it a moment, I tried to accept the unfamiliar gesture. “Sorry,” she commented. “We’re a very affectionate and demonstrative family…very loud around my house. I can’t help who I am.” She shrugged happily.