The Swear Jar (27 page)

She arched her back.  Balling her
fists again, she struggled slightly with her bonds.  He used his index finger
to feed her, placing the honey on her tongue.  She lapped at his finger,
drawing it inside her mouth.  Murmuring, she sucked on his finger.  She rolled
her tongue around it and applied pressure.  Shocked, he removed his finger.  Her
tongue moved across her lips slowly.  The sleeping dragon was awakening.  He
wondered if he was ready.

“What was that?” he asked as he
fought for control of himself.

“Honey,” she breathed heavily.

He licked her chest until she was
free of honey.  He firmly held her left breast, sucking at the nipple until the
honey was gone.  He sucked at the nipple until it was erect and then he nibbled
it.  She gasped and tried to open her legs.  She felt the throbbing ache
between her legs increase.  He held her still and turned to the right breast,
repeating what he had done to the other.  She pulled on her bonds and writhed. 
She panted.  He opened the last container.  It had chocolate-covered cherries
in it.

He said, “Bite this.”

She bit the cherry in half.  The
cherry juice ran down the sides of her mouth and chin to her neck.  They slowly
ate their halves of the cherry.  When he was done, he lapped at her neck and
face while running his hands over her belly and breasts.  He pinched her
nipples and rubbed himself over her soft mound.  He kissed her and their mouths
tasted like cherry and chocolate.

She shuddered.  She struggled to
open her legs.  Her face turned into a grimace.  She writhed so hard against
her bonds, the headboard shook.  She was losing control.  She gasped and pushed
her hips towards him.  The ache between her legs was painful.  She wanted him
inside her.  She pulled at the ropes.  She panted and her breasts bobbed.  When
she tried to open her legs again, he lifted off her.  He sat back on his knees,
not sure what to do.  The dragon was here.

“Take the ropes off.  Now,” she
commanded.

He released her wrists.  She sat up
on her knees and pulled off the mask, her eyes smoldering.  They looked into
each other’s eyes, both recognizing the animalistic desire there.  She looked
down to see he was aroused and smiled wickedly.  He exhaled, reached for the
lubricant and squeezed out a glob.  She nodded her head.  He grabbed her around
the waist and reached between her legs.  She moaned, relief flooding her.

“You wanted the dragon, you got
her.  Come and get her,” she challenged.

He pushed her down on the bed.  She
opened her legs and beckoned him by running her hands along her thighs.  He ran
his hands over her legs.  She slid her hands down between his legs, giggling
mischievously.  She pulled him towards her, nodding, urging him on.  He entered
her and she gasped.  The prolonged foreplay had affected him as well.

“Do it.  Give it to me.  Harder.  I
want you now,” she cried.

She held onto him as he grasped her
shoulders and thrusted deeply into her.  She raised her hips to meet him and
gave in to her orgasm.  She threw her head back and let out a loud, agonized
groan.  She continued to thrust her hips towards him.  She ran her hands over
his body and made encouraging noises.  He groaned and thrust harder.  She gave
in to the rocking rhythm and threw her hands up to brace herself again the
headboard.

“Duncan!” she cried, her breathing
coming in hitches.

She arched her back, orgasming
again.  She trembled.  He rocked forward and shuddered.  He held onto her,
groaning in her ear.  He wrapped his arms around her.  Kissing her, he slid
behind her.  He held her in his arms.  He kissed her neck.

“Meara.  My Meara.”

“Yes, your Meara.  Heart, soul,
body and mind.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.  Are you?”

“Yes, my naughty girl.”

She giggled.

He whispered, “Do you like role
playing?”

“Yes.  I do, but we’re going to
have to talk about your surprises, especially ones that involve bondage.”

“I agree.  We need to invest in a
pair of handcuffs.”  He laughed into her hair, holding her tight as she
squirmed.  “Relax.  I’m kidding.  Mostly.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Meara felt safe and loved in
Duncan’s arms.  He had figured out she was holding back, hiding behind her
dragon, as he called it.  It was true.  She hadn’t meant to because she loved
him, but a small part of her mind had held her back.  She didn’t want to be
hurt or rejected again, but holding back wasn’t fair to Duncan.  She needed to
give him everything.  She didn’t have to hide, not anymore.  She could show him
everything.  He would be there, wanting and loving her.  Looking into his eyes did
calm her mind.  Tears ran out of her eyes and across her nose.  He wrapped the
blanket around them.  He slipped a pillow under her head.  Seeing her tears alarmed
him.  He pulled her to him.

“Meara?  What’s wrong?”  He held
her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Duncan.  It’s silly,
but I’m so happy.  It doesn’t make any sense, I know.  I love you and I’m so
sleepy.  You wore me out.  I don’t think I can keep up with you.”

Her eyes closed, her voice grew soft,
and she dozed off.  She held her folded index finger against her lips.  Duncan
kissed her forehead.

“It’s more likely I won’t be able
to keep up with you,” he whispered.  “I’ve never been happier.  Not even with
Brenda.  That sounds terrible, but it’s the truth.  I’m afraid this won’t last
because you’ll figure out I’m too old for you.”

She was fast asleep in his arms. 
He sighed and curled up next to her.  He had an ache in his chest.  He loved
her fiercely, but seeing how passionate she was made him wonder what would
happen when he was too old to love her like she deserved.  His pained
expression faded as he fell asleep.  She awoke a few hours later.  The sun was
setting outside and the room was dimly lit.

He had turned to lie on his back,
snoring lightly and looking peaceful.  She smiled and wanted to touch his face,
but she wanted to let him sleep.  She got out of bed as quietly as possible. 
She went into the bathroom, getting herself a new towel to wrap around her
body.  Her other towel was still on the bed under him.  She thought of snapping
it out from under him, but she shook her head.  He deserved to rest.

She picked up their swimsuits and
washed out the sand.  She fished the used towel out of the tub.  The candles
around the tub had burned out, so she gathered them together with the sand
pebbles and chocolate kisses.  She took the bottle of champagne out of the
bucket and dumped the ice water into the tub.  She put the candles, pebbles and
kisses into the bucket.  She glanced back at him, but he was still asleep.  She
quietly took the bucket and champagne bottle into the kitchenette.

She tiptoed to the bedroom and
retrieved his containers.  She picked up the towel he had been wearing.  She
placed the containers in the refrigerator.  She wandered into the living room,
looking at the photos on the wall.  She noticed a few faces repeated.  Those
faces must be Mike and his family.  Someone liked to take pictures of the
beach.  There were sunrises, rainstorms, and winter storms.  She was lost in
the photos.

“I was wondering where you went,” he
said softly from behind her.

She turned.  “Hello, sleepyhead.”

He was wearing a towel around his
waist.  “Sleepyhead?  Me?  You’re the one who fell asleep first.”

“True.  I’ll admit that.”  She rested
her head on his shoulder.

“You cleaned up everything.  You
didn’t have to do that.  I could have cleaned it up.”

“You gave me a wonderful surprise. 
The least I could do was tidy up a little.  Will there be more surprises like
this in our future?  I hope.”

He wanted to talk to her about
their future together.  Her trusting, loving eyes made him forget what he
feared or made his concerns seem unreasonable.  She made him feel as if he was
the only other person in the world and only he mattered.

“I’m sure there will be.  I can be
full of surprises.”  He whispered.  “I love you.”

“I love you, Duncan.”

His stomach growled.

She giggled and rubbed his belly. 
“My poor sweetheart, I should feed you.  How about we have some sautéed shrimp
over rice and a nice salad?”

“You’re determined to make me eat
healthy, aren’t you?”

“I can try, but then you’ll feed me
cake and chocolate and blow the whole thing.  I spoke to Diana earlier today
and told her we weren’t coming home until Thursday.  Do you need to call Lucy
today or tomorrow?”

“I should call her tonight.”

“I’ll go start dinner.”  She headed
out of the cottage.

He was sad as he watched her go. 
He needed to shake the bad feeling he was having.  He didn’t want to ruin their
time together.  He had wanted her to give him everything.  Now he had it, he
needed to cherish it instead of thinking it was too much for him.  He had to be
her knight in shining armor.  He followed her to the house and passed her in
the kitchen where she was setting a pot of water on the burner.  He was in
their bedroom changing when she arrived.

Seeing his naked buttocks, she
whistled.  “Cute!”

He rolled his eyes.  He quickly
pulled on his underwear and sat on the bed, facing her.  She turned from side
to side, showing off her legs.  She undid the knot at her chest and threw her
towel at his head.  She giggled and ran for the drawers.  She pulled out
panties and a bra.  She pulled them on in record time, but he still got a good
look at her.  She found a pair of clingy sweatpants and a soft blue t-shirt to
wear.  She went to the bathroom and brushed her hair.  When she came back, he
was fully dressed.  She sat on the bed and put on her socks and sneakers.  He
found his cell phone and kissed her dimple.

“I’m going outside and call Lucy. 
I want to make sure I’ve locked up the cottage and see if the pool needs any
chemicals.  Mike warned me it might need some maintenance.”  He tried to sound
cheerful.

“I’ll be in the kitchen.  If I get
done before you, I’ll find you.”

He headed downstairs and out the
front door.  He couldn’t shake the feeling something bad was going to happen. 
He sat down on the front porch steps.  He dialed Lucy’s home number and
listened to the rings.  Duncan took a deep breath when Lucy answered.  He
explained how they had gone to the Shore.  They would return on Thursday.

Lucy promised to call the Board president
on Tuesday.  She would keep their romance private.  He thanked her and said
goodbye.  He chuckled.  That was the longest conversation he had ever had with
Lucy.  Lucy didn’t think they were crazy.  She wanted them to be happy.  He sat
on the steps for a few minutes and looked around the neighborhood.  He could
hear the ocean.  The night breeze was light and salty.  He smiled.

An elderly woman walked along the
sidewalk with a type of bag he recognized from the convenience store.  She was
short, very thin, wore glasses and had white hair in a tight bun.  She spotted
him on the stairs.  She waved her cane.

“Hello there!  You must be one of
Mike’s renters.  I’m Dorothy.  I live next door.  I was expecting that young
couple with the three loud children, but I guess they changed their minds.”

“Hello, I’m Duncan.  I’m a friend
of Mike’s.  The other people backed out and we came down for the week.”

“You and the young lady with the
blond hair?  Your daughter’s very pretty.  A little chubby, but still pretty.”

His spine stiffened.  “Meara’s not
chubby.  She’s healthy and fit.  She’s also NOT my daughter.  She’s my
girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?  Robbing the cradle,
are you?  Are you one of those sugar daddies I hear so much about on TV?  You
should be ashamed of yourself.  You should be with someone your own age and
thinking about retirement in Florida.  Are the women your own age not good
enough?  Got to go younger?  Men your age think they have so much to prove and
they’re not thinking at all with their brains.  If you know what I mean.  Let
me guess?  She’s a little playmate to replace the wife you divorced after she
caught you cheating?”

“Certainly not!  Meara’s not a
playmate or my mistress.  She’s an honorable young woman.  I can’t say the same
for you, Dorothy.  I would say it has been a pleasure meeting you, but I would
be lying.  Good evening.”

He stalked across the porch and
slammed the door behind him.  He found Meara in the kitchen.  The food was
ready and she was setting the table.  He went to the kitchen sink.  He washed
his hands and splashed cold water on his face.  He was angry.  His face was beet
red.  He tried to calm down before she saw his face.

“What happened?  Is everything all
right at the library?  Duncan.  What’s wrong?”  She touched him on the
shoulder.

He flinched and pulled away.  “I
met our neighbor, Dorothy.  I think I know why those people decided to cancel
their week here.  Luckily, she can’t see into the backyard or into the house. 
She’s horrible.”

“Let’s sit down to dinner.  We can
talk about her or not.  I see you have another bottle in the refrigerator.  It
looks like a nice wine.”  She cooed, hoping to soothe him.

He got out the wine and found the
corkscrew.  The ache in his chest was back.  He grabbed two glasses from the
cabinet.  He took a seat next to her at the table.  He poured the wine.  She
was concerned, but she kept quiet.  She gave him time to relax.  She nervously
drank her wine and ate a little food.  He pushed food around on his plate.  He
wasn’t drinking the wine, but he was calmer.

“Is something wrong with the food?”
she asked.

He shook his head.  The ache in his
chest got worse.  She was nervously rubbing his hand.

“What did she say?” she asked
coaxingly.

“She called you my daughter.”  He
could barely spit it out.

“That’s what has you upset?  Did
you tell her I’m not your daughter, but your girlfriend?  It’s a stupid
mistake.  What makes her horrible?”

“I told her you’re my girlfriend. 
She also called you pretty, but chubby.”

“She’s right.  I appreciate the
pretty, but I am chubby.  Go on.  What else did she say?” she laughed.

He didn’t smile.  “She said I was
robbing the cradle, I’m a sugar daddy, and I should be ashamed of myself.  I
should be with someone my own age and retire.  I’m not thinking with my brain. 
I’m married and we’re having an affair.  You’re my little playmate.”

She frowned.  “She does sound
horrible.  What a bitch.  What did you say to her?”

“I told her you were an honorable
young woman and I couldn’t say the same for her.”

“Good for you.  And thank you.  Why
are you so upset?  She’s a busybody.  Don’t let her bother you.”

He put down his fork and stared at
his plate.  The ache in his chest throbbed.  He had to say what was on his
mind.  He had to get it out and tell her his fears.

“Maybe Dorothy is right,” he said
quietly.

“Right?  Right about what?”

“Maybe I am too old for you.  Maybe
I’m not thinking with my brain.”

“What does that mean?”  Meara,
feeling the butterflies in her stomach stomping madly, took a gulp of wine.

“Maybe it isn’t fair for you to be
with me.  I’m older than you.  Maybe you won’t want to be with me if I can’t be
with you physically.  Or if I get sick.  And you’ll leave.”

“Wait.  You’re confusing the hell
out of me.  We talked about this.  The age difference doesn’t matter to me.  I
thought you understood how I felt.  Why did you pursue me if it was going to
bother you?  Why did you tell me you loved me if you thought you were too old
for me?  Why did you sleep with me?  Why did you want all of me if you had
doubts?  You don’t love me.  You’re using me.”  Her voice was strained, her
face turning red from the wine.

“I’m not using you.  I do love
you.  I don’t want you to regret loving me.”  This was not going well and he
realized she was panicking.

“I would never regret loving you.  I
wouldn’t leave you if we couldn’t make love.  I wouldn’t feel like I HAD to
stay with you.  I would stay because I WANT to.  I would WANT to take care of
you.  What if something happened to me?  What if I got sick?  Would you leave
me?   I don’t think you love me.  This age thing is an excuse.  How many people
have we met think we’re good for each other?  And one person makes all that
crash down?  You got what you wanted out of me.  I’m such a fool.  You used me
and now you’re hiding behind your age.  If you don’t love me, then I don’t love
you.  Or you think I don’t love you and if I don’t love you, you don’t love
me.  Makes perfect FUCKING sense to me.  Either way, you have doubts.  It’s
over.”

She stood up, finishing her glass
of wine.  She swayed a little as she left him at the table.  She walked towards
the stairs.  He sat, shocked and unable to move.

“What’s over?  Where are you
going?” he asked anxiously.

The ache in his chest was replaced
with panic.  He regretted opening his mouth before he thought about what he was
saying.  He stood up and watched her.

“I’m packing my things.  I’m
leaving.  We’re over.”  She threw her hands in the air.

Slowly she walked upstairs,
determined to get to their bedroom.  He followed behind her, giving her room. 
He had never seen her so upset.  The wine had affected her greatly.  She could
barely walk yet she wanted to get away from him.  He had hurt her.  He followed
her into the bedroom.  She was throwing her clothes into her bag.

“You’re not going anywhere.  You’ve
had too much to drink.  I won’t allow you to leave,” he said sternly.

“So what are you going to do?  Lock
the door and tie me to the bed again?”

“I’ll take away your car keys and
keep you here until you’re sober.  We haven’t finished this discussion.”  He was
grasping at straws as his panic began to rise.

She faced him, her eyes flashing
angrily.  “Oh yes, we’re finished.  Completely finished.  When I leave here, I
NEVER want to see you again.  I’m quitting the library.”