Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (9 page)

If you are awake to read this, you are in trouble baby girl—X

Then I’m in trouble. Just getting into bed now. Thanks again for a great night! I had a lot of fun.—L

Yes, you are in trouble. Get in bed. I’ll text you in the morning about punishment. And I’m glad you had fun. Watching you dance was…very nice.—X

I started getting all kinds of dirty thoughts about spankings and being tied up like I had just imagined Christy, but exhaustion pulled me to sleep quickly.

* * * *

I slept deeply, but woke with lingering thoughts of kissing him like I had been dreaming of it. It was almost eleven and I had a ton of studying to do, but I also had a killer headache, indicating I’d probably had more alcohol than I thought. I considered a bowl of cereal and my stomach vetoed.

I needed to get into my reading for the week, but I couldn’t concentrate between the alcohol hangover and the Xander hangover. I kept thinking of last night, seeing him relaxed when he didn’t know I was looking, the feel of his body against mine on the dance floor, the dark thoughts I could see in the depths of his eyes at times and that warning at the end. That he’s ‘demanding’ and won’t ‘tolerate’ not getting what he wants.

Is he a toddler?

I actually laughed out loud at that thought because I couldn’t even picture him having a temper tantrum. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if he didn’t get what he wanted.

What does that even mean?

And I knew then, despite his warnings about his needs and the demands of school, I wanted to see where it would go between us, even knowing that I didn’t know enough to make an educated, or even very intelligent, decision. I had that feeling of not caring if the decision I was making might be self-destructive, but I knew my mind was already made up.

My plan was to spend the day on the couch, studying—anatomy, physiology, histology, biochemistry. Exciting! My text alert chimed and I silently thanked God.

Baby girl, how did you sleep?—X

Really well, but a little hungover this morning. U?—L

Slept great, feel great. Thinking about you all morning—X

Thinking about U 2. What are U doing 2day?—L

Studying, working out, studying, doling out punishments—X

Long pause. I wasn’t sure how to answer that, but I wanted to see him and in my mind punishment was beginning to mean the something akin to sex.

Umm, plural punishments? Do U have other people to punish today or just me multiple times?—L

Oh, baby girl. You are naughty, naughty, naughty. You will clearly need a lot of training. And I am looking forward to every second of it.—X

Training?
That response just made me even sassier, but it was kind of hot and I felt like pushing him some—from here, when he was there and any real consequence was theoretical.

XOXOXO bossy—L

7pm—X

7pm what?—L

7pm I will be at your place, ready to give you what you deserve. See you soon, baby girl—X

That felt a little ominous…and presumptuous. Maybe I already had plans. I didn’t, but anyway… Seven p.m. I had six hours to study and get myself ready.

OK, should I get something ready?—L

I was trying to get an idea of what this was going to entail or if he was teasing me or what the fuck.

I’ll take care of everything, including you. Try not to worry about it too much until then.—X

OK, no worrying about whatever may or may not be happening later for “punishment.” I feel like a kid in trouble who’s gonna get a spanking. But sure, no worrying today. You got it, Boss.—L

Hmmmm, spanking, really? That’s what comes to mind? I like it.—X

What? I don’t actually want to be spanked. No, I don’t. Wait…but do I?
My mind was a jumble of thoughts of being across his knees and my naked ass getting swatted, and I got that feeling like I couldn’t quite catch my breath. I was confused with myself—
Do I want to be spanked? I don’t even know how to answer that.

I had planned to spend the day studying and knew I’d be distracted now. I got comfy on the couch and opened a book, not really seeing the words. I was definitely on edge. As the sickly aftermath of the booze faded, it was replaced by a roiling, anxious excitement.

Chapter Nine

Xander

Daughn Gibson,
The Sound of Law

I called Jason and woke his sorry ass up. “You’re still fucking sleeping? Get up.”

“Fuck off, dick.” I heard Christy in the background, telling me to fuck off, as well.

“Soooooo, whatcha doing?” I smiled, knowing I was being super-annoying.

“Sleeping, dick. Are you having a crisis?”

“No.”

“Good.” And he hung up.

I laughed. I gave it twenty minutes and called him back. Christy answered.

“He’s in the shower. Are you coming over?”

“Is that cool? Or are you two too wrecked for company?”

“Oh, shut up. You’re not company. See you in a bit.”

I grabbed my gym bag and left.
Fuck studying today.
The drive to their house took about a half an hour because they lived out in the country a bit, on a fifty acre piece of land. They’d bought it about three years ago and built their home. It was ridiculous, huge.

I pulled into the property and parked in the four car garage, where they kept a spot clear for me because I was there so much. I came in through the garage door, into a kitchen with an informal dining area—

“Hey, shit heads, I’m here. Come solve my problems for me.”

Christy stepped out of the pantry with a box of cereal and fixed me with a look. “Shit
heads
? Was that plural?”

I laughed and hugged her, as Jason came in the room. “What’s your problem now?”

“So, I told her I was gonna come over and punish her tonight.”

“I feel like there’s a back story that you skipped. And did you spend the night with her?” Christy fixed me with that look again. I think it’s a southern girl thing. “Do you want some cereal?”

“No, I want some lunch though.”

“You’re welcome to it.” She waved at the kitchen, indicating that I could fix it my damn self. “Now, spill it. She would have gone home with you, so what happened?

Jason manned the stove, frying up some bacon and eggs, and I went to the fridge for some bread, cheese and tomatoes to make myself an egg sandwich. “So, we went to the Cat’s Meow for some dessert and coffee then I drove her home.”

“Dude. Come on. We know there’s more to it than that.” Jason wasn’t wearing a shirt, just low slung sweats. The dude was wiry-ripped.

“All right. I kind of gave her a warning. Kind of said, I’m demanding and require a lot of attention in a relationship, and she should think about that before we go any further. And then, it fucking nearly imploded. I mentioned something about a safeword and she had no idea what I was talking about.” They both laughed. “Yeah, fuck you guys. So, I drove her home and was a total gentleman.”

They laughed again.

“Seriously! I just kissed her goodnight and told her to go to bed.”

“You Dominant-type people are so fucking pushy sometimes.” Christy was smiling, but we all knew it was true. They didn’t have a Dominant/submissive dynamic to their relationship, except when they chose to play that way. And, being someone who didn’t have this need, she just didn’t get some of it. She accepted me, even loved me, but didn’t get it.

“It’s this thing. I tease her and tell her it’s her bedtime.”

“Is she turning you into a Daddy?” Jason’s eyebrows shot up on his face. I’d always been much more of a sadistic, controlling Dom. And while I took care of any subs I had, I wasn’t the Daddy-type usually. I just thought I wasn’t wired like that, but the more time I spent with Leda, the more I wanted to shelter her and discipline her.

“Maybe.” I was still considering it and felt resistant to the label. “Anyway, I texted her when I got home, telling her she was in trouble if she was awake to read it, and she responded. It’s like she wants to get punished.”

“Wait…gimme your phone. I want to read the whole exchange.” Christy held her hand out and I gave it to her. They read it with their heads tilted in together over my phone. “Wellllp. I think she wants to be your sub.”

“Right? That response of what should I get ready…for you to come over and
punish
me. No offense, Christy, but she is the perfect woman.”

“For you, dude,” Jason added with a scowl on his face as he wrapped his arms around Christy. “So, what’s the problem?”

“That bit about bringing everything over. I can’t really cook anything beyond mac and cheese or a grilled cheese…or something else with cheese.” I smirked a bit. Christy hated the way Jason and I ate, but we both worked out enough that it wasn’t an issue.

“So take some cheese,” she said, with an equally smart ass smirk on her face. “Seriously, take some finger foods—cheese, fruit, chocolate. Make it easy.”

“I was thinking about taking some Sangria.”

“He can’t cook anything, but Sangria he makes.” Christy addressed Jason as she turned on their espresso machine.

He shrugged. “Priorities.”

“Jace—wanna go work out?”

“I don’t really want to drive out to the gym. Let’s just spar here.” They had kept a good portion of the basement clear of furniture and had put an extra thick pad down when they’d carpeted, knowing that we would likely being practicing here some, too. “But I gotta digest first.”

“What was your night like last night after you left the club?”

“The Window was fun.” He shot Christy a look. “This one almost got in trouble…forgot to put her clothes on before leaving the back.”

I laughed. The Window was like any other club when you first came in. Bar, dance floor, DJ. But there was a second half of the building where all the sexy stuff happened, and there were some rules about where to get naked.

“It was busy though. More so on the dance floor than in back,” Jason added.

She put a coffee down in front of him. “Sorry…I was fucked witless.”

She brought me a coffee too, for which I thanked her. We sat at their counter, talking and joking. After breakfast, Jason and I sparred. I was distracted enough by thoughts of Leda that I didn’t last long.

Once home, I made the Sangria and put it in the fridge to chill while I showered. I tried to distract myself with studying, but she was there at the corners of my thoughts. Eventually, I tossed to book across the room.

I drove to her house, nervous about the open alcohol container in my car, high on knowing that I was going to her house with the intent to fuck with her head…in the best way possible. I didn’t know that she was ready for it, but I thought she was.

I waited for her to buzz me in and felt the adrenaline surge a bit. My lips felt tingly and a precursor to pleasure rippled through me. She let me in and met me on the landing and I couldn’t stop the silly smile. I was happy to see her, happy she’d let me come back.

“Hey, baby girl. You hungry?” I dropped a soft kiss on her head as I passed her.

“Sure, what did you bring?” She was anxious, but not panicked. It was just there at the edges, a little more pressure in her speech.

“I brought a bunch of finger foods—fruit, cheese, crackers, chocolate. And some Sangria—my mom’s recipe, so good. Does a drink sound okay or are you still feeling a little hungover?”

“No, I actually felt better pretty quickly this morning. I’d love to try a glass.” We got plates and drinks and sat at her couch, kind of facing each other.

“How was your day, baby girl?” I smiled as I said it, sure she’d spent the day at least half worrying about what might be coming.

She played it cool. “It was good. I got a lot of studying done. How about you?”

“Great! I studied a bunch and sparred with Jason some.”

“Tell me more about this martial art you’re doing.” She sank her teeth into a strawberry, her lips closing down, but wet with juice nonetheless. It was distracting.

“I love it. I bet you would, too.”
Look somewhere other than her mouth.
I dropped my eyes and they settled on her cleavage, which looked especially nice in the white, V-neck T-shirt she was wearing.
Focus up, Stone.
“It’s a lot of ground work, rather than the standing type of fighting people think of with most martial arts—you know Bruce Lee type of stuff. This is closer to wrestling, but the idea of using your opponent’s energy against them is the same. There are some strikes, but mostly submission holds.”

I couldn’t even say the word submission near her without thinking of her lying at my feet. “When I first started, I just got my ass kicked repeatedly by the guys at my gym, but I’ve gotten better since then. I still get some bruises, especially if I spar with my instructor.” I showed her a new bruise on my chest from Jason today. His heel had caught my pec as he’d figure-foured my neck.

Her eyes bulged a bit. “It sounds rough, but fun.”

She said nothing for a few minutes and I didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. I wanted her to come to me, in every sense.

She spoke again. “I thought about what you were talking about last night, about balancing school and a possible relationship, and there’s no way that I could know the right decision until after the fact. I don’t know what school will be like and what I can handle along with it. I really like spending time with you. I don’t really want to stop and you’d understand, probably better than most, if I need to pause or spend a bunch of time studying.”

I watched her, and only murmured in response, wanting more.

“Now, that said, I don’t know what you mean about what you need. You just said you were demanding. What does that mean?” She looked like she knew, but wanted me to say it. I was happy to oblige. She had to accept me just the way I was.