Tease (Songs of Submission #2)(22)
Author: C.D. Reiss

God, had I been so childish? “I want to f**k.”

“So what’s your intention? Why do you keep asking?”

“Curiosity.”

He took his fingers out and moved my panties back in place. I thought ok, now he’s going to tease my snatch all night, and let’s face it, I’m going to love it. But he did something that surprised me. I couldn’t see it because he held my chin up, but it felt as if he flicked my clit the way he might flick a crumb off the table, with his thumb and middle finger. His thumbnail hit my engorged clit like a pebble tossed on a water balloon. I felt it as exquisite pain followed by sharp pleasure. I made a vowel sound in my throat, still looking at the ceiling.

“Tell me, Monica. Why so interested?” He flicked me again.

“Oh, Jonathan….” I moaned. Flick. I started to squirm.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

It was gorgeous torture. I had no idea when the flicks were coming, and they were sharp, excruciating, and beautiful. I’d never, ever be able to come even if he did it twenty thousand times.

“If I tell you,” I said, “you tell me everything.”

He flicked me twice in quick succession. I cried out. “No deals,” he said.

“Don’t make me scream,” I said. “Lil will hear.”

“Then talk,” he said, flicking me again.

“Fuck you.”

“Talk, baby,” he said softly, as if cajoling me.

I breathed heavily, feeling the light pressure of his hand on my throat. I could have stopped him. My wrists weren’t bound. I could have pulled his arm away. Honestly, I wanted to tell him. “I want you.”

“And?” He rubbed my snatch over the now wet fabric of my underwear. It soothed the heat but not the arousal.

“I want you all to myself. I want to know what they didn’t do so I can do it. So I can keep you longer.”

“Ah.” He took his thumb away from under my chin. My legs were still spread, and his knees prevented me from closing them. I looked at him, feeling ashamed. I was sure he’d drop me like a foul ball, right there in the back of his Bentley in a designer dress and new garter. “Three times is my limit. We’re one f**k to our expiration date,” he said.

“I hope it’s a monster because I’m going to miss it.”

He smiled at me, then pushed himself back. He closed my legs, and I pulled my skirt down, smoothing it against my thighs, pensive.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I can’t promise you anything long-term. I can’t get past my marriage. But I like you more than I care to, and I’m not interested in anyone else right now.” He pressed my hands in his and looked at them, then back at me. “Let’s do it. As long as you understand where I can’t go. Jess talked me through a lot of shit. She rescued me in ways you can’t even fathom.”

Asking him to explain would have been aggressively intimate enough to break whatever we had. Whatever indefinable thing that was, short-term monogamous relationship, friendly f**kery, exclusive fling, it was not what he had had with Jessica. Our connection didn’t have the bandwidth to sustain the pain buried far enough in our past to cause the grind of our present. His past belonged to her, even though she’d cut the line, taking it with her, tugging at him, leaving no one else for him to give it to.

“I get it,” I said, “and I’m okay with that.”

“Not for long. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

I stared at him for a second, then down at our hands. “I didn’t get into this car wanting anything more from you.”

“Yes, you did. You just don’t tell yourself the truth all the time.” He put a finger on my chin. “You’re a goddess, Monica. Never be afraid to ask for what you want.”

Our faces were a breath away. I kissed him gently, minutes passing while the city zipped by outside the windows. I heard my phone bloop, and I ignored it. His dinged, and he ignored it. Our devices were like a chorus of bells in the wrong church. I felt the car drop from the nose to the back, as if it were falling off a cliff.

I looked out the window as we stopped. “You drove me home?”

“You’re black and blue in just about all the places I want to f**k, and if you come back with me, I’m f**king them.”

“The things that come out of your mouth,” I said.

“Do they please you?”

“No, actually.”

“Come on, Monica. I’ll be gone for a few days. When I get back, we can pick up where we left off.”

“You’re leaving me like this for days? I feel like I’m carrying a baseball between my legs.”

“No touching either. That orgasm’s mine, and I’m trusting you to hold it for me.”

I put my face to his, kissing his cheek, his nose, his lips. “It weighs ten pounds. Just release me.”

“I’m going to release you when I get back,” he said into my ear. “Repeatedly.” He reached back and knocked on the window between us and the driver.

“You have a serious cruelty streak.”

He smiled at me as though he knew good goddamn well what his streak was made of. Lil opened the door, and we stepped out. He kissed me by my porch steps, and my phone blooped again. From my porch, I watched the Bentley dip down the hill as if it was a feather thrown from a tall building. Inside the house, I heard the piano getting the attention I wished I was getting.

CHAPTER 16

Gabby was up. No one else could play like that. She didn’t stop when I came in, but she nodded to me.

“It’s eleven at night,” I shouted over the music.

“So?”

“Can you play something a little less bombastic so the neighbors don’t call the cops again?”

She stopped playing entirely. “Why are you home? Did you guys have a fight or something?”

“No. Where’s Darren?” I dropped my bag and kicked off my shoes, draping myself across the couch. Even lying still on the couch made me think about sex, adding to the throbbing between my legs. Damn Jonathan.

“Fucker’s on another date.” She tinkled a fun little tune on the keys. I’d never seen her like that before, with so few words and a tone of such pent up anger. I wished I could have my old high school friend back. She was fun. The person I’d spent the last two years watching had a new personality every few weeks.

“So? We set you free. You should be happy.”