The_Submissive - Tara Sue Me (22 page)

“We should head back to the box,” he said as the quarter drew to a close.

Right, the game.

Who was winning?

I went to get up, but his arms wouldn’t let me go.

“Do you know why we had to wait?” he asked.

Because you like me sitting on your lap.

Because you want to hold me.

Because you are fascinated by the tiny little details of my ear.

Because, as much as you try to deny it, you’re feeling something.

Because, maybe, you love me.

“Because your face shows absolutely everything,” he said. “You’re an open book.”

I laughed.
Okay, that too.

We stood up. I still had a blanket wrapped around me.

“You better change,” he said. “Felicia will have my head if she sees you in that skirt.”

I had a feeling Felicia was going to have both of our heads anyway, but that hardly mattered at the moment.

After I changed, we walked back to the box. I overheard several ladies in the bathroom while I was changing—the Giants were winning. Good to know, since I’d be spending the rest of the game with people who’d probably watched the last quarter.

Felicia came right up to me as we re-entered the box and drew me to the side. “Where have you been?” she asked quietly.

“We were busy.” I tried to say it with a straight face, but apparently my expression gave me away.

“Damn, Abby. At the Super Bowl? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Felicia,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “it should be illegal
not
to do what I’ve been up to.”

“You are so going to get arrested one day.”

“Prude.”

“Perv.”

The Giants won. After the clock wound down, Jackson ran to the middle of the field and looked up at our box. He blew a kiss in our direction. Everyone oohed and ahhed.

Everyone except Nathaniel. He just shook his head and mumbled again about how much his cousin owed him.
But I could tell he was happy for Jackson. Just the same way I was happy for Felicia.

We left the stadium after the trophy presentation. Nathaniel and Todd gave each other wary glances, but they finally came together in a friendly hug.

“Three weeks,” I thought I heard Nathaniel whisper, but couldn’t be sure.

Elaina pulled me into her arms. “If I find anything out, I’ll call you.”

Felicia was staying in Tampa with Jackson, but Nathaniel had to fly back so I headed to the airport with him. The flight back home was much more subdued than our trip to Tampa. We spent our time in the leather captain’s chairs.

“Did you make me an appointment for Wednesday?” Nathaniel asked. “Or were you just saying that to Linda?”

“I was hoping you would want to stop by,” I said. Didn’t he know by now I’d never lie to him?

“Wednesday, then.” He smiled. “Research?”

“You do need help with your literature. If you try really hard, I’m sure you can do better than Mark Twain and Jane Austen next time.”

“Really? Who would you suggest?”

“Shakespeare,” I said, leaning back and closing my eyes.

I called and set up an appointment for waxing on Wednesday afternoon after work. I could have made it earlier, but I wanted to see if Nathaniel would say anything else about it when he showed up at one o’clock on Wednesday.

He didn’t.

And let me say one word about being waxed.

Ohmygodithurtsofuckingbad.

But afterward—way, way, way afterward—I decided I rather liked it. It was neat, clean, and I could only imagine how sex would feel. It might actually make sex better, if such a thing were possible.

I also decided to give some thought to Nathaniel’s idea of getting a car. On my own, of course. I talked Felicia into letting me borrow hers for the weekend. She rarely used it anyway.

Six o’clock Friday evening found me in the foyer of Nathaniel’s house.

He pointed to my clothes. “Take them off. You’ll get them back on Sunday.”

I took my time undressing. I’d thought about the weekend all week, just as Nathaniel planned, I’m sure. Wondered how I’d feel walking around completely naked. Crazy Abby was all for it and promised to keep Rational Abby occupied with new tax regulations or some such nonsense.

I hadn’t forgotten what he’d said about Friday night, and when I stepped out of my pants—
look, Nathaniel, no panties
—the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t joking about the Friday-night fiver. Matter of fact, he took me the first time right in the foyer.

And, uh, yeah. Sex
was
better.

I felt self-conscious at first, walking around without clothes, especially when doing something mundane like cooking. But as the weekend went on, I found myself growing confident. The way Nathaniel looked at me, the way his eyes followed my movements, it made me feel powerful. Again, probably his plan the entire time.

He was sitting at the kitchen table when I came down to cook breakfast Sunday.

“Go upstairs and put some clothes on,” he said, very no-nonsense.

What was going on? I was so flustered, I didn’t ask. I left the kitchen and went back to my room, where I fumbled my way into some jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt before making my way back down the stairs.

“Have a seat,” he said.

“Is everything okay?” I sat down, trying to figure out what would put such a…
guilty
look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at me finally. His eyes were troubled. “I should have done a better job. Paid more attention.”

“You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

He waved toward the window.

Shit.

Snow reached halfway up the glass pane, about four feet, and was still falling.

“I should have listened to the weather,” he said. “Watched the news. Something.”

“So what’s the verdict?” I asked, still watching the snow. “How bad is it?”

He shook his head. “No one knows with any certainty. It could be days before you’re able to leave. I’m sorry. I should have sent you home yesterday.”

So I was stuck with Nathaniel for a few extra days. It beat being stuck inside the apartment—

“Felicia,” I whispered. I had her car!

“She’s with Jackson,” Nathaniel said. “I talked with him not long ago—he picked her up yesterday. She’ll be okay.”

I nodded. Felicia was perfectly fine with Jackson, and I liked the idea of her being with him instead of holed up at the apartment.

“We need to discuss guidelines for the week,” Nathaniel said. “I thought it would be easier to talk if you had clothes on.”

That explained the kitchen table—he wanted my opinion.

“I thought we could split the meals up, I’ll take one, you take the next.” He looked at me and I nodded. “I’ll be working most of the time, so I want you to make
yourself at home. The house is open to you except for my two rooms.”

Guess that meant I wouldn’t be sleeping in his bed.

“My rules stand,” he continued. “You can use the gym and yoga DVDs. I expect you to call me ‘sir’, but I don’t expect anything from you sexually. I don’t believe sleep will be an issue. You’ll get your eight hours.”

Snowed in with Nathaniel. Crazy Abby was turning cartwheels. Rational Abby had a nagging suspicion it might not be such a good idea.

“Do you have any questions?” he asked.

“Yes. You don’t
expect
anything sexual, but you didn’t say no sex. Does that mean there’s a possibility of sex?”

“I thought we’d let things play out naturally, if that’s okay with you.”

Natural sex with Nathaniel? My face heated and I felt the familiar ache of yearning tighten in my lower belly.

Be cool
, Rational Abby said.
Don’t let him know how much the idea excites you
.

Idiot, he knew that ages ago
, Crazy Abby said.

Across the table, Nathaniel gave a knowing smile. Damn that Crazy Abby, she was right.

“I’ve been natural all weekend,” I said, coolly. “Why stop now?”

He laughed. I hadn’t heard him laugh very often—maybe being snowed in would be a good thing for us.

“Where do I sleep?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Your room.”

Oh, well. It was worth a try.

“Okay,” I said. “New rules start when?”

“Today at three.” He looked at his watch. “You’re mine for the next eight hours, so if you don’t have any more questions, I want the clothes off while you cook breakfast.”

You’re wrong
, I thought to myself as I went upstairs to undress.
I’m not yours for eight hours. I’m yours for always.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX

It was slow going on the natural plan. On Sunday afternoon, at three o’clock exactly, Nathaniel told me to go upstairs and get dressed. He said dinner was his responsibility since I had cooked breakfast and lunch.

We ate in the kitchen while watching the snow. It felt odd to have clothes on. Almost like I was hiding.

I called Felicia after dinner to make sure she was safe with Jackson. She acted a bit put out that I questioned her safety, but I knew how much it meant to her that I called. When I got off the phone, I made my way to my library and spent the evening alone. Nathaniel stayed in the living room. Though we spent the evening apart, I was surprised at how comfortable I felt in his house.

First thing on Monday morning I called Martha on her cell phone and explained my predicament. She told me the library was closed due to the snow anyway, and she’d keep me posted. I refused to spend the day idle, so I used Nathaniel’s treadmill after breakfast. I’d give him this much—he knew what he was doing when he set up my exercise plan. Already I could see improvements
in my muscle tone, strength, and stamina. After just a few weeks, not only was I trim, I was fit.

Maybe it was the aftermath of spending the entire weekend naked, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t immediately change out of my workout gear. Instead, I walked around downstairs while endorphins pumped through my body. I didn’t feel like hanging out in my library again, so I decided to clean. Clearly, Nathaniel employed a housekeeper. One who wouldn’t be able to come out due to the storm.