Jane Shoup (10 page)

“Like what?” she asked
nervously.

He laughed. “I think I’ll
fuck you doggie style,” he decided. He rose and led her back to the pillow on
the floor. “Kneel down and go down on all fours.”

She obeyed.

“That’s so pretty,” he said.
“I like you in that position.” He knelt behind her and shoved himself inside
her with a satisfyingly brutal thrust. He grabbed her hips and repeatedly
slammed himself into her. He loved the sound of their skin slapping together.
“What do you want me to do to you next time I see you?” he grunted between
thrusts. “Tell me or I’ll fuck you like this for an hour.” He gripped her hips
with a bruising force and rammed her even harder.

“All…of…it,” she gasped
between thrusts.

He came and then pulled
back from her, leaning back against the dryer to recover his breath and
strength. Jenny lay flat on the floor, her ass atop the pillow, breathing hard.
“You laying there like that,” he panted, “–tells me you need some more.”

“No! No, I’m sore,” she
replied.

He reached over and gently
stroked her ass and legs with his fingertips. “Shall we go upstairs and start
again?”

“No, I swear, I’m too
sore.”

“But look how you
positioned yourself. Your ass on that pillow like an invitation.”

“I just collapsed on it.”

“No,” he disagreed. “You
collapsed and then moved yourself back on it, offering it to me again.” She
started to turn over, but he stopped her. “Don’t panic. I’m done for tonight.”

She relaxed and settled
back down, resting her head on her folded arms.

“I just want to look at you
a while more,” he said.“Look and touch and fantasize about all the things I’m
still going to do to you.”

He teased her bottom with a
light, almost tickling touch that made her want more despite the soreness and
fatigue. What if he’d opened a well of need in her that could never be filled?
She gasped as he pulled her ass cheeks apart and blew a gentle stream of air on
the inflamed skin.

“I was in there and it was
so good,” he murmured.

Was it? Had she liked it?
She just didn’t know. As long as she was under his control she liked it, but
what did that mean for Ryan? Ryan, whom she could fall in love with. She
squeezed her eyes shut. Who was she kidding? Ryan, who she was in love with.

* * * *

December 22

Jenny sat cross-legged in
front of her full-length mirror to finish putting on her makeup. She stared
into her pale green eyes and a stranger stared back. For someone who had been
so into self-analysis, she suddenly didn’t know herself very well anymore. “Or
do you just not want to admit it?” she murmured accusingly at her image.

She lined her lips and
applied lipstick. She added some smoky plum shadow at the corners of her eyes
and above the lid. All the effort to perfect the outside of the package, when
the inside was…what? Dark and tangled? Did it make her a freak that she enjoyed
a man taking control of her body for a time, that she enjoyed being spanked?
Even the word made her pulse and respiration jump.

How would Ryan react if he
knew what she liked? “Would you mind tying me up?” she asked softly. “Have you
ever spanked a woman, Ryan?”

He’d die, that was what.
He’d leave so quickly, it would make her head spin. She frowned and got to her
feet to finish dressing. The truth was, he’d eventually leave her anyway. She
seemed special to him now, but that would wear off. They were going out for
pizza and a movie tonight. It would be a normal date night, for a woman who was
anything but normal.

* * * *

“We’re going to miss the
movie,” Ryan said apologetically.

They were stuck in a
traffic jam, creeping along at less than ten miles per hour.

“Probably an accident,”
Jenny said.

It had begun sleeting and
the roads were getting dangerously slick.

“We should probably go home
anyway,” she said, straining to see what was ahead that was causing the problem
up ahead.

Ryan had to work to hold
back a smile, the words were so sweet. “Whose?”

Jenny glanced at him.
“What?”

“Your place or mine?” he
asked, meeting her eyes.

“Oh. Whoever’s closer, I
guess. Yours, right?”

“And I have Jimbo to
consider, in case it gets really nasty.”

She sat back, suddenly
enamored with the idea of being snowbound with Ryan for a few days. Of course,
she hadn’t finished her Christmas shopping yet. She didn’t have anything for
him yet. “We can’t get snowbound,” she said, deciding to broach the topic. “I
don’t have your Christmas present yet.”

He grinned and reached for
her hand. “I don’t need anything but you. Hey, isn’t that a song?”

“I was hoping we could keep
it really simple this year,” she said tentatively. “Something more about the thought
than about
—
”

“Spending money,” he
supplied. “That’s a good idea.”

“Great. So, what do you
want? And think big. Anything at all…under fifty dollars,” she finished wryly.

He shook his head. “I’m not
picky.”

“Why are you smiling like
that?”

“I’m enjoying the
conversation.” He turned on his blinker and looked in the rearview mirror. The
person behind him in the right hand lane flashed their lights and allowed him
to get over. He cut in front of them and threw up a hand in thanks. “Must be
the season.” He turned at the corner and started toward home.

* * * *

Jenny was close to dozing.
She was wrapped in Ryan’s arms, listening to the tapping of sleet against the
windows and his regular breathing. Who could have guessed that the sound of
breathing could be so comforting? Outside, it was freezing, but that just added
to the coziness she felt.

They’d made love
—
normal,
wonderful love, and she felt utterly satisfied. Maybe she didn’t need the kinky
thrills. In fact, she didn’t. As of tonight, it was something that was behind
her. She could not keep operating on the assumption that the happiness she’d
found was going to disappear.

“A picture of you,” Ryan
muttered.

Jenny opened her eyes but
didn’t move. “What?”

“The guys at work all have
pictures of their wives or girlfriends. I’ve never had that.”

“At work?”

“You know, they have little
magnetic frames they keep in their toolboxes, or a picture on a key-ring. Like
that. That’s what I’d like.”

“For Christmas?” she asked,
not sure she followed.

“Yeah.” He reached over to
press a kiss to her head. “You never said what you wanted.”

She stroked his chest. It
was every bit as well defined as she’d guessed that first day in her office. “I
feel so perfectly happy right this minute, I can’t think of a thing,” she said
honestly.

“Then I’ll surprise you.”

She rose up on an elbow, a
worried frown wrinkling her forehead. “Nothing too much. Promise?”

He quirked his eyebrows.

“Ryan,” she warned.

“I promise,” he said
dutifully.

Chapter Nine

Ryan and Jenny were
stretched out on the couch, facing the fireplace, each watching the dancing
flames, submerged in their own thoughts. Jenny rested comfortably against Ryan,
pleasantly conscious of the loose yet possessive way he held her.

It had been a wonderful
day, spent with her family. They’d not only liked Ryan immediately, but they’d
been amazed and thrilled by the transition in her. “You look so happy,” they’d
each said to her in confidence. It was funny, all of them remarking the same
thing.

She was happy…except for a
slight, nagging awareness of the darkness in her. Occasionally, it gripped at
her stomach, pressing, filling her with the desire to be dominated. Given time,
she could and would put the memories and desire behind her. The one thing she
had become more and more certain of was that she did not want to lose Ryan. She
couldn’t bear the thought of disgusting him.

There were two sides to
every coin and this was her bright side, her normal side. The other side–the
sexual, secretive side
—
could be forgotten. Hell, she hadn’t even
recognized it for most of her life. Not until
he
had come into her life.
He
would simply have to go. She would tell him tonight. This game they’d
been playing was not worth the risk of losing Ryan.

“What are you thinking
about?” Ryan asked.

“It was a good day,” she
said, softly, pressing her head back against his shoulder.

He ran the back of his
fingers along her jaw line gently. “It was. I can’t wait for you to meet my
family tomorrow. They’re going to love you.”

Her eyes filled
unexpectedly and she smiled.

“So, when are we going to
open presents?” he whispered in her ear.

She jerked, surprised by
the whisper and alarmed by how much her body had responded. She sat up fully
and turned to face him.

His smile dimmed and was
replaced with a look of concern. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she said too
quickly. “Except, well, the truth is, I have to go see a friend in the building
tonight, but just for a few minutes. To give them a present.” She could feel
the warmth in her face and she heard how choppy her speech sounded. She sounded
guilty, is what she sounded.
And
she
was
. But, that was
all going to change tonight. She didn’t want to feel guilty any more.

“Okay,” Ryan replied. He
still looked confused by her sudden discomfiture. “Alone, or did you want me to
go?”

She shook her head. “I
should do it alone. I swear, it won’t take long.” She attempted a smile. “We
can do presents at midnight. That way it will be Christmas.”

He nodded slowly. “Are you
okay, Jen?”

“I am. I swear I am. I am
so happy with you,” she gushed, taking hold of his hand.

His smile came back,
stronger and surer than before. She settled back against him again and squeezed
the strong upper arm that he draped around her.

* * * *

At eleven fifteen, after
glancing at the clock at least fifty times, she excused herself, took a small
wrapped package and walked toward the door, feeling utterly self-conscious.
She’d worked herself into a mild panic over whether he would call or not.

Ryan twisted around on the
couch. “Hey.”

She looked back at him with
wide eyes, full of alarm. “Yeah?”

“I shouldn’t be jealous,
should I?” he teased.

Now she smiled. “No. You’re
the only man I want.”

* * * *

The laundry room was
totally dark. Jenny flipped on lights and walked in, her heart thudding from
memories and anticipation. She walked to the place, set her gift on the dryer
and closed her eyes, planning exactly what to say. It was a few minutes before
she heard a scuff behind her and stiffened.

“I thought I said no gifts,”
he whispered.

For a moment, she couldn’t
speak. “Open it,” she said. “Please,” she added. She picked the flat package up
and held it over her shoulder. He took it and she heard the paper being torn,
followed by stark silence.

“What is this?” he demanded,
the whisper harsher.

“It’s the money you gave
me. All of it.” Silence. “I spent the first hundred you gave me, but I replaced
it.”

“Why?”

She started to turn to him,
but he stopped her.

“Why?” he repeated.

“You…changed me. You
changed my life, woke me from the living dead. And I thank you for that. But…I
can’t do this anymore.”

“Because of this man you
met?” His whisper seemed to drip sarcasm.

“I love him.”

Silence.

“I think I loved him from
the first second I saw him,” she admitted.

“He won’t understand you.”

She didn’t reply. She knew
this was a possibility, but she refused to let it stop her from ending what
needed to be ended. Ryan was the man she loved. He didn’t need to know all the
dark recesses of her mind and heart in order for her to be happy.

He took hold of the back of
her neck and squeezed gently. “We don’t have to give this up,” he whispered
urgently. “We’ll go on in secret. We’ll meet down here. We’ll come up with some
kind of
—
”

“No,” she interrupted. “I
don’t want that. I don’t want to keep secrets from him. Look, it was insane and
intense and wonderful and it changed me, but I cannot do it anymore!”

Silence.

“I was going to reveal
myself to you,” he bargained.

“I don’t want you to,” she
interrupted in a tremulous voice. “Let’s just pretend it was a dream.”

Silence.

“It’s time to wake up and
get back to our real lives,” she finished.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded fervently,
despite the fact that she fought back tears. It was stupid, but a big part of
her didn’t want to lose him and the sexual gratification she’d found. What if
Ryan didn’t understand her needs? What if she were never sexually fulfilled
again? What if he left her and she had no one?

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

“Yes.” Her voice was thick,
the emotion undeniable, but so was the answer.

He sighed deeply and, for
the first time, she heard him walk away. It was also the first time she hadn’t
been tempted to turn and see him.
It’s time to wake up and get back to real
life. It’s worth getting back to, now.

* * * *

“There you are,” Ryan said
when she walked back through the door. He removed the cork from a bottle of
champagne with a dishtowel that muted the pop. He slowly poured the pale,
golden liquid into waiting champagne flutes.

“Here I am.” She walked
back to sit next to him. There was warmth and happiness and love here. Between
Ryan, the glittering, pearl-draped Christmas tree, and the crackling fire in
the hearth, they could have been the cover of a Christmas greeting card.

“Merry Christmas,” he said,
handing her a filled glass.

“Thank you.” They clinked
glasses and sipped, looking at one another. “Mmm, the good stuff,” she
commented.

“My first Christmas Eve
with the woman of my dreams—would I buy the cheap stuff?” He watched her grin
and sip some more with great appreciation. “How was your visit?”

She stiffened, then made
herself relax. “That was about giving something to…someone who had done a lot
for me. It was about closure.”

He nodded slowly. “I see. I
guess.”

“So, you want to start with
presents?” she asked, determined to change the subject.

He waggled his eyebrows.
“Sock it to me.”

“Greedy,” she teased. She
got up and went for a small box wrapped in shiny red paper with a simple white
bow. “Trust,” she said, handing it to him. “And sharing. That’s what it symbolizes.”

He took the gift and held
it a moment before unwrapping. Already, it meant more than any other gift he’d
ever received. Inside, on a soft pad of cotton, was a thick, silver key chain,
and dangling from it, a small framed picture of her and a key. He picked it up
reverently and studied the photograph. “I love it,” he said simply.

Her eyes prickled. “I felt
totally vain having that taken
—
”

“I all but begged for it,
didn’t I?” he reminded her. “Thank you.”

“The key is to here, of
course.”

He looked up at her, his
brown eyes full of longing and hope. “It’s the best gift anyone ever gave me.”

She swallowed, but the lump
in her throat remained. “I didn’t think it was possible for this day to get any
better,” she said gently.

He looked down at the small
photograph in his hands. “I hope I don’t change that.”

The words were strangely
ominous and Jenny felt a tightening in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

He reached behind him on
the table, where he’d stashed his gifts and handed her the first. “I didn’t buy
this one,” he admitted.

He’d grown tense and it
made her tense. She started to open the smallish, lightweight gift quickly to
end the suspense, but he stilled her hand. “It’s about trust, too, and
honesty.”

She nodded slowly, but she
felt a definite pang of nausea.
He
knows. He knows about the
basement.
“I want that between us, too,” she uttered. Did her voice sound
as strangled as she thought?

“We’ve never said it
before,” he said. “But I want to say it and mean it.”

“So do I,” she pledged
solemnly. The tension was too high, her guilt too severe, and a tear spilled
down her face. She swiped at it with a quick, jerky movement.

Ryan pulled his hand away,
allowing her to continue unwrapping the gift. She did, pushing back crisp
tissue paper. She stared at the pale blue bra,
her
bra
, for
several seconds before understanding what it meant. When she did, she looked up
at him with an expression full of surprise and fear. “Wha
—
” She couldn’t
even form the words. “You?”

He leaned closer and took hold
of her arms. She’d gone a bit pale, except for bright stains of pink spreading
on her cheeks. “Listen to me, Jen, I’ve loved every minute I’ve spent with
you.”

She began shaking her head.
“No, no. That was before I met you.”

“I sought you out at work,”
he admitted. “I didn’t think I was good enough for you, or that you’d want me.
I never dreamed I’d have a shot at a real relationship with you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut,
mortified by what he’d seen and they’d done.

“Jenny! I was there, too.
Part of it. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” A new fear grabbed him around
the throat, cutting off his air supply for a painful moment. Maybe she wasn’t
embarrassed, maybe she was angry or felt betrayed. Maybe she thought he was a
deviant, a stalker. If he’d blown this, how would he ever endure it? How the
hell would he ever go on? “Jen,” he snapped, needing her to look at him. He had
to know.

She opened her eyes and
looked at him. Besides stunned, she wasn’t sure what else she felt.

“I never expected what
happened between us,” he continued. “Not here, with us, and not with the other
us either.” His voice was low and his hands had tightened on her arms. “But no
one has just one side to their personality,” he kept on with determination to
make her understand. “I love making sweet, tender love to you, but sometimes,
it’s different. Lust takes over and I want to pound myself into you until you
scream.” He ran his fingers down her face and over her throat, raking in each
precious inch of flawless skin. “I want to control your every thought and
feeling, to make you experience pain or pleasure or both.”

She wanted to look away
from him but he held her eyes captive.

“Our private life is ours,”
he kept going. “Sex is between us and nobody else. Even later on, when we’re
older and have kids
—
”

She felt herself tremble
and then laugh, a release from the unbearable tension that had built.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling
her to him and envisioning little versions of themselves. “We’ll love them and
we’ll be great parents, but there will always be a lock on our door. And our
room will be soundproof.” She pressed her face to his chest and he stroked her
hair. “I’ll build it myself to make sure of it,” he finished, feeling more
confident by the second. The clock began chiming, and he held her tightly,
wordlessly comforting her.

When the chiming stopped,
she looked up and met his eyes. “I feel like Cinderella on the stroke of
midnight. I thought I was in a ball gown and it turns out I’m completely
exposed behind a few old rags.”

“I’m still Prince Charming,
right?”

She stroked his strong jaw
line. A shadow of stubble had formed and it looked sexy. “And my dark lord.”