SUNDAY MORNING, I leave the convenience store loaded down with tons of snacks. French onion dip, wavy potato chips, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Cheetos, pretzel chips, and hummus fill the plastic bags on my arm as I text Seth, letting him know I’m on my way.
The store is just a couple of blocks from my apartment, which is within walking distance of Club Alias, so I didn’t bother driving. I was so anxious about our date anyway that I figured the exercise would do me good, hoping it would expend some of my jitters.
I smile at his incoming message.
Seth: Guardians of the Galaxy is all loaded! Can’t wait for you to get here.
I slip my phone into my back pocket and hurry my pace.
Suddenly, a weird feeling comes over me, like I’m being watched. I glance up the street, seeing that most of the stores are closed since it’s Sunday. The only thing open is the little café up ahead on the left, but I don’t notice anyone looking my way. I peek over my shoulder, but no one is there. There are a couple of cars parked along the curb, but I don’t stop to search if there’s anyone in them.
Trying to shake off the eerie feeling, I quicken my steps, spotting the club up ahead. Maybe it’s just Seth watching me from a window or something, I think. But by the time I reach the unmarked door, I’m so freaked out that I yank it open and take the stairs two at a time. When I reach the very top, I turn to look down the steps to make sure no one followed me inside, completely shaken even when I see no one’s there.
As I turn to make my way toward the staircase to my right, I run straight into a tall, hard body and let out a scream that echoes around the empty club. Arms like steel band around me, and it’s not until I smell the familiar scent of leather and Seth that I stop fighting and cut off my shriek of terror.
“Shhhh, hey, hey, beautiful. What’s wrong?” His deep, soothing voice washes over me, and I drop the plastic bags to the floor and immediately wrap my arms around his waist, my heart pounding hard in my chest. “Twyla, you’re shaking. What happened?”
I relax against him, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart as mine slows to match its beat. It’s then I realize our position. I’ve never been so close to a man before, our fronts pressed tightly together without the slightest space for even air to pass between us. I close my eyes, memorizing the feel of his muscular arms around me as his hands slide up and down my back. The heat of him soaks into me, doing even more to erase my fright.
I lose track of time. I have no idea how long he allows me to stay like that, cocooned by his strong, towering body, feeling like nothing bad could ever reach me as long as I stay right here in his wonderful embrace. But finally, he takes hold of my shoulders and leans slightly away to look down into my face.
“You all right, doll?” he asks gently.
“I am now,” I breathe.
“What happened?” he tries again, and this time, I have my wits enough to reply.
“I had the strangest feeling, like I was being followed.”
His brow furrows. “Did you see anyone?”
I shake my head. “No, but I was too scared to turn around and take a good look. It was probably nothing.”
“If it makes you feel any better, this is a pretty safe little town, Twyla. Nothing like what you’re probably used to in California,” he tells me reassuringly, and I relax even more. “Do you know of anyone who would be following you? You don’t have any stalker ex-boyfriends I’ve gotta worry about, do I? Because I will fuck them up.”
He grins, trying to make me laugh, but his question hits too close to home. I do know someone who could be looking for my sister. But I don’t want Seth to know about any of that. I’d rather Astrid and I just move on with our lives and forget about her abusive ex. Surely after two and a half months he would have given up finding her anyway.
I force a smile, but he sees right through it. “Would it make you feel better if I lock the front door?” When I nod, he traces the line of my jaw, sending tingles down my neck. “One sec, doll.”
I watch as he gallops down the stairs, his light brown hair disappearing from sight for a moment as I hear him lock the glass door in the otherwise completely silent club before he returns.
“There. You ready to watch the awesomeness that is a Marvel movie now?” he asks, kneeling to gather up all the snacks I’d dropped. “French onion dip? My favorite!”
The pure joy on his face erases any lingering feelings of unease I have, replacing it with delight that this sexy-ass, delicious man could get so excited over chips and dip. “Yes. I’m ready to see this Star Lord guy. Apparently he’s super hot, according to my sister.”
“Not as hot as me, but he ain’t ugly.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
I let out a girlish giggle, placing my hand in his when he reaches out to take it. “I believe you,” I say, biting my lip.
He looks surprised at my admission, and his grin widens before he leads me up the stairs. He opens the door at the top, and we enter a long hallway, passing by four offices, two on each side, before it ends at another door, this one with a keypad on the wall beside it. He types in a code and I hear a loud click, which must be the lock mechanism opening. He turns the knob and pushes the door open, pulling me inside.
When it closes again, I hear the same loud click and realize I’m now locked inside Seth’s loft with no way to escape if I wanted to. I wait for a feeling of unease to come over me, but it never does. Instead, I feel completely safe, like nothing bad could happen to me as long as I’m here with him.
I look around the place, trying to gain insight into the man who owns it. It’s nothing like I imagined it. I’m so used to seeing Seth surrounded by black leather and deep, blood-red in dim, sexy lighting. I never thought his home would be all bright colors and brilliant light.
His loft is one large open space, with two doors against the far-left wall. That must be the bathroom and a closet, because to my right is the kitchen. In front of it is the living area, and to the left of that is his huge, king-size bed. On the wall between the two doors is a computer the likes I’ve never seen before, with six massive screens and equipment I couldn’t tell you what it was for. No surprise a technology prodigy who graduated with his masters from MIT would have a setup like this.
His bed is pure white, aside from the tall, light-brown headboard that looks like the wood has been woven together. The white down comforter looks so fluffy and soft I want to run and jump on top of it to feel myself sink into its depths.
I glance to my right as Seth pulls out the snacks and spreads them over the marble countertop. The cabinets are a pale gray and his refrigerator, stove, and dishwasher are all stainless steel, but all the small appliances and cooking utensils are bright green. Even his dishtowels and the few plates resting in the drying rack next to the sink have a green pattern along the edges. Butted up against the kitchen island is the most comfortable-looking couch I’ve ever seen. The cushions look like they would swallow me whole. The upholstery is topped with several throw pillows in a mix of greens and blues. There’s a coffee table in front of it, and what looks to be a half wall separating the space from the bedroom area, but standing on this side of it, you can clearly see the entire loft, the walls all painted the color of a sandy beach.
Seth walks around the kitchen island, a roll of paper towels beneath one bicep, his hands full with two plates, and the bag of potato chips clenched between his teeth. He places everything on the coffee table, and then falls backward onto the couch, patting the cushion next to him as he smiles up at me, where I’m still standing just inside the door.
Suddenly, my sister’s warning pops into my head. Am I ready for whatever Seth has planned for today, if she’s right about “watching a movie” being code for sex? Surprisingly, the idea doesn’t terrify me. After the two lessons we’ve had, and now recognizing how safe I feel when I’m with him, I realize I won’t stop him if he wants to get physical.
I take a seat beside him, looking around, confused.
“Um, Seth? Where’s the TV?” I ask, wondering how we’re supposed to even pretend to watch the movie.
He pops a dip-covered chip into his mouth before grabbing a remote off the coffee table, then turns to watch my reaction when he pushes a button. Out of the corner of my eye, I see something move, and when I face forward, I see a giant flat-screen TV rising from the half wall.
“Holy crap! That’s cool!” I gush, watching as it finally stops growing only an inch from the ceiling.
He pushes a few more buttons, and I’m completely mesmerized as blinds cover all the windows along the top of the loft, the lights dim overhead, and the menu for Guardians of the Galaxy fills the TV screen. He clicks one last button before setting the remote back down on the coffee table, and the movie begins.
As Seth powers through his chips, dip, and pizza, which I see he’s also put on the plate in front of me, I sit quietly, laughing at the few parts of the movie I’m able to concentrate on. The rest of the time, I’m only aware of my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest, along with the heat at the right side of my body, where Seth’s thigh presses against mine. I’m too nervous to eat, and when he glances down at my plate to find I haven’t touched a single bit of the food there, he grabs a paper towel from the roll, wipes his hands and his mouth, and then turns to face me.
“You okay, doll? You aren’t still shook up from earlier, are you? Because I can promise you, nothing can get you in here. It’s a fucking fortress,” he assures, his voice confident.
I shake my head then slide my glasses back up my nose. “No, I’m good,” I fib, staring at the screen, but not seeing anything playing across it. My mind is elsewhere, specifically on the man next to me. I’m hyperaware of his closeness, his intoxicating scent, the roughness of his jeans against my bare leg. I’d worn my stretch workout shorts and a tank with my hoodie since he told me to dress comfortably for our all-day movie marathon.
I feel his fingers at my chin as he turns me to face him, discovering disappointment in his gaze. It’s like a punch to my gut.
“On day one, we promised each other to be completely open and honest, Twyla. And I know you’re not being truthful with me right now. What’s the matter?”
I can’t handle him looking at me like that. And that tone… that gently commanding tone that leaves no room for denial. My walls crumble.
“I’m having a hard time relaxing, it seems. My um… my sister told me that when a guy invites a chick over to watch a movie, they don’t actually want to… uh… watch a movie. And since this is my first time on a date, I don’t really know what… I don’t know what to do with my hands.” I use the quote he’d texted me, trying for humor as I hold my hands up in front of me and wiggle my fingers.
He studies me closely, his beautiful eyes searching my face. I put my hands back down in my lap when he doesn’t smile, just keeps hunting for something in my expression until I grow self-conscious and can’t meet his stare any longer. My eyes lower to where our legs are pressed together, and while he continues either playing connect the dots with my freckles inside his head or picking apart what I said, I admire how different our thighs are. Mine is lightly tan and lean, not a hair in sight because after what Astrid said, I’d taken great care shaving my legs this morning. His is covered with dark denim, but it’s so thick with strength I can see the dips and bulges of the muscle beneath the fabric.
Finally, he speaks. “Twyla, are you telling me you came here thinking we were going to make love?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, my mouth suddenly as dry as the desert I drove through two and a half months ago. I can feel him still searching my face. I’d promised him complete honesty, and I always keep my promises. I meet his breathtaking eyes.
“I came here thinking that if she was right, then I wouldn’t object.” My answer hangs in the air between us like a physical thing as I wait for him to respond.
“First, let me start out by saying if that’s what I was inviting you over for, then I would have just said so. I am a Dom. I do not have to hide what I want behind sayings such as ‘Netflix and chill’ like pussies who are too afraid to state what they actually mean.” Even though his words are almost scolding, like I’m in trouble with my teacher and being sent to the principal’s office, there’s a hint of warmth mixed with that commanding tone of his that keeps me entranced rather than flinching away. “I asked you over, honestly, for us to just watch movies all day. This in itself is a big deal. You are the first woman I have ever wanted to spend all day doing nothing but veg out with. You are also the only woman I have ever invited into my personal space. No one besides my business partners and myself has ever stepped foot inside this apartment.”
I gasp, my eyes widening at his admission. The hint of warmth in his voice sparks an inferno inside me, and I have to fight for control, as my body wants to do nothing but melt right here in this spot.
He reaches up, tracing along my jawline before his hand rests at the side of my neck as he continues, “At most, I thought—if I was lucky—you might curl up with me here on my couch. And, if I was even luckier, we might end the night with me giving you your very first kiss. I was looking forward to a day of firsts, but never once did I expect to fill the day with all your firsts, doll.”
I bite my lip. I have no idea how to respond to that.
“But yet you came here believing we might. And you said you wouldn’t object if that’s what I really wanted you here for.” A pause. “You want me to be your first, Twyla? You want to give me that honor?”
My heart pounds in my chest. If I say yes, what will happen? Will he cut off the movie, carry me to his huge white bed, and make love to me as soon as the word leaves my lips? Am I prepared for that to happen if I give him my answer, that yes, I want him to be the one to take my virginity?
With nothing else to do but give him my honesty like I swore I would do, I bravely meet his eyes and whisper, “Yes, Seth.”
His grip on the side of my neck tightens, making my lids slide to half-mast and my core clench. He uses that grip to pull me forward until I’m pressed against the hard planes of his chest.
“Lovely Twyla. My beautiful doll.” His other hand wraps around the small of my back, and he pulls me onto his lap, almost cradling me in his big, strong arms. “Today, you can relax. We’ll watch our movies, eat junk food, and spend our time laughing. Another day, though, I’ll take you to my bed, and you’ll spend the time screaming my name while I make you come.”
My whole body shudders at his wicked words. I grow instantly slick between my legs, feeling his hardness beneath me. He’s going to make me wait. How I went from nervous about the possibility of it happening to completely disappointed it’s not going to right now, I have no idea. But as he denies me for the time being, it makes me realize without a shadow of a doubt that I want him. I want this amazing, smart, beautiful, protective, caring, and patient man to be my first.
Without thinking, my eyes close and I lean forward, ready to take my first kiss. But that firm hand at the side of my neck stops my movement, and my eyelids spring open. What I find when my gaze meets his… I’m not sure how to describe it. Confusion? He looks like he’s fighting something within himself. I don’t understand. But then his hold relaxes, allowing me to slowly close the space between us, and I see his eyes close just as my lips meet his and mine do the same.
IT’S BEEN A long time since I’ve kissed a woman.
The act is so intimate, more affectionate than what I’m normally willing to give to a submissive in my club. No, there’s usually very little skin-to-skin contact when I act out a scene in a playroom. I use a wide variety of toys and devices on them for foreplay, but I never get undressed, always wear my hooded mask, and rarely ever stroke their flesh with my hands. Then after that, it’s only my condom-covered cock that receives any pleasure.
Already, I’ve touched more of Twyla than any submissive. I can’t seem to stop myself from toying with her hair, sliding my finger down the bridge of her upturned nose, or stroking the delicate line of her jaw every chance I get. I held her trembling body when she first arrived, feeling her fear seep away as I rubbed her back, breathing in the scent of her dark hair. Even the innocent press of her leg against mine while we sat side by side watching the movie gave me more of a thrill than what a full-on
BDSM scene has in quite some time.
And then I pulled her into my lap, feeling the heat of her atop my throbbing erection, with her face so very close to mine. It was all I could do not to come in my pants right there when she leaned forward to take her first kiss. Especially after she’d just told me she wants to give me her virginity. My grip on her delicate neck had tightened while I tried to gain control of myself, confused by how the woman in my arms had so much power over me. She’s taken over my every thought, my every spare moment, and now, apparently, my control over my own body.
When I finally feel like I can handle it without exploding like a twelve-year-old boy, I relax my arm and allow her to close the short distance between our mouths. Tentative at first, her lips gently press against mine, and we both gasp as a wave of pure bliss and belonging fills me.
That’s when I snap. My hand at her neck dives in to the back of her thick, shoulder-length hair where I grasp the back of her skull as I deepen the kiss. All plans I’d had to let her control her first kiss, to let her explore me the way she wanted to, goes right out the window. When she moans at my forcefulness, my tongue slides between her soft, pillowy lips to dance with hers. She’s hesitant at first, not knowing what to do, but soon, she’s mimicking my movements, and we lose ourselves in the passion of the moment.
It may be her very first kiss, but it’s the very best kiss I’ve ever had in my life. It’s like our movements are choreographed. We just fit together so perfectly, and she tastes so goddamn good. And if just kissing her feels this fucking amazing, I can only imagine what being inside her will feel like.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, her in my lap, making out like a couple of teenagers, but soon enough, it enters my consciousness that the movie’s menu has been playing the same song clip over and over and over. As much as I’d love to throw out what I told Twyla about just relaxing today and making her mine another day, I can’t. I want to wait. I don’t want to rush everything. I just found her, and I want each of our milestones to mean something. I want our special moments to get the spotlight they deserve. For the first time, I want to be one of those annoying couples who have a hundred different anniversaries they look forward to each year. The day they met, the first date, the first kiss, the day they officially became a couple, the first time they made love… the little yet important anniversaries leading up to all the big ones everyone else mildly cares about.
For the rest of the day, we alternate watching my favorite episodes of TV shows, movies, and making out. When it grows dark, I walk her home, laughing when I realize she lives in Vi’s old apartment. She invites me in to meet her sister, and I tell them all about the romance novelist married to my best friend and partner. Astrid immediately downloads all the books written under the pen name VB Lowe onto her Kindle, and as I kiss Twlya goodnight, I inform her Vi got all her information about BDSM from me. Seeing the spark of interest in her eyes, I tell her goodbye with a cocky smirk, knowing what she’ll spend the rest of her night doing.