I turn and face the dresser, and roll the lube over in my hands. It’s been a long time. Still, doesn’t mean my brain doesn’t go back to familiar places. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told Silas about the promise I made to myself. After I quit working as a dominatrix, I needed some time for myself. So much of my life had changed. Brook was finally on her own. I wanted to give myself time to find a healthy romantic and sexual relationship with a man in a certain way. Instead, that time just went to clocking as many billable hours as possible at Murrell, Dunne, Walmax and Wright. Silas might be the one lacking the interpersonal skills, but he’s not the only one lacking certain experience.

He isn’t my man, but he isn’t a client either. He’s put his cards on the table, twice in one day. The terms and conditions might be a little fuzzy, but he wants me. I can admit that I want him too even if I’m not ready to put any weight to it. I need to see if I can have him the way I want him. I have to see if he’s into it.

I turn back around and scoot a little more to the middle of the bed. “Okay, well. I have some ground rules. You look like you want to say something.”

“I know I’ve been hurting your feelings a lot so I’m trying to keep the lightning fast responses to myself.”

“Oh. Well, I appreciate that.”

“You were saying something about ground rules?”

“Right.” I stand and face him, put on my courtroom exterior. “Over the years, I've come to learn that I enjoy sex a certain way. I like to be in control. In complete control. How does that—you know what? Sorry. I'm trying to ease you into this with sugar coating and that's not gonna work ’cause that’s not how you work. Here's the deal. I was a dominatrix for a really long time and now it's the only way I enjoy having sex. I'm open to negotiating because consent is amazing, but I just need to set your expectations.You're not going to throw me on the bed and pound me into next week.”

Silas is just staring at me. He's turning a little bit red. “Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m just—can I just say what I'm thinking?”

“Sure.” I brace myself for the worst.

“I would love for you to dominate me,” he says. The genuine enthusiasm in his voice catches me a little off guard.

“Okay. Well good. We’ll do that. How about I start and then as we go, you tell me if you don't want to do something.”

“I don't think that’ll happen.”

“Silas, I'm serious.”

“So am I!”

I realize if I keep arguing this point we’ll be standing on opposite sides of the bed all night, yelling back and forth at each other. We can do this, but I know I'll have to do this extra carefully. He has no idea what he's getting into.

“Do you have any neckties?”

“Yeah, hold on.” He practically sprints out of the room. Morty is right on his heels. Not a minute later they’re both back. Silas hands me two wacky print neckties that look like they haven't been worn since the seventies. They’ll work just fine.

“Will he freak out if we close him out of the room?” I ask, nodding to Morty.

“No. Come on, boy. You want Honey gone too?”

“No, she's already knocked out,” I say and of course Honeycrisp opens her eyes, but she doesn't move.

After Silas kicks Morty out, he turns to me.

“Okay, I'm ready.”

“I can see that.” The bulge in his jeans is straining to get out. “Take off your clothes, please. All of them.”

“You’re not gonna make me run through the town square, yelling that I’m the most beautiful princess in the world, are you?” he asks as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“No. Is this something you’re worried about?”

“Yes.”

“Here’s the deal. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to humiliate you. We’re going to have sex and you will enjoy it. I promise.”

He finishes stripping and stands next to the dresser completely naked. My eyes dart directly to his crotch. I can’t help it. His perfectly thick erection curves up a little toward his stomach. I actually stare at it for a while, and he graciously lets me, keeping all his comments about my blatant voyeurism to himself. I manage to keep the drool pooling in my mouth under control as I take a few moments to detail every inch of the rest of his body. His legit farmer’s tan is the exact opposite of unappealing. It’s just further proof of how hard he works and how much he cares about his business. My gaze travels further down his body, taking in his perfect abs, his cock again and his amazing thighs.

“Now what?” he eventually asks.

“Uh, right. First rule, I want you to keep the talking to a minimum. You’re right. One-on-one you seem to be terrible with women that you at least have some sort of attraction to. I think we can have a lot of fun tonight, but this is going to take years if you're talking. I can gag you if you think it's gonna be a problem.”

“Can I respond to that? Or are we talking no words at all?”

“If you have a question, I want you to think very carefully before you ask it, and I’d prefer if you kept the general comments to yourself.”

“I—okay. What would you like me to do now?”

“I want you to go take a shower and I want you to wash very carefully under your nails. I know you washed your hands before we had dinner, but I want to make sure your fingers are clean.”

“You plan—”

I raise my fingers in a closing motion. “Uh!” There's no real question coming. He just can't help himself.

“Sorry. I’ll just go take that shower now.”

“Good. Thank you.” I watch him as he walks past me into the bathroom. His bare ass is amazing. I know part of it is genetics, but there is definitely something to be said about a hard-working man who knows how to lift with his legs.

While he’s in the shower I consider getting undressed, but I just remove my underwear instead. I know how the sundress I’m wearing makes my breasts and my ass look. I’m sure he wants to see me naked, but I’m going to make him wait. I’ll make it a reward of sorts if we can get through tonight with minimal interruptions.

I check my phone and drop the girls a quick text, telling them I’m fine and that I love them. I see Noa responding when I hear the shower shut off. I stash my phone on its charger and wait.

Eventually Silas comes walking out of the bathroom, bringing a cloud of steam with him. The sight of his damp body is downright pornographic, but I keep that to myself. I notice his erection has gone down as he towels off. I sit on the edge of the bed and watch him as he grabs a huge pump bottle of SPF lotion and starts slathering it all over his face and arms.

“I like to combat dry skin and sun damage.”

“No, by all means. Go on,” I say. I might as well lay on the bed with my chin cupped in my hands as I take this whole show in.

“Ready,” he says after he rubs the excess lotion on his hands down his muscular thighs. My eyes travel to his dick again in the dim lamp light.

“Did you come in the shower?” I ask.

“I thought about it, but no. It just—I was thinking so much about not coming so I could perform, I kinda killed it.”

“That’s fine. I don’t think getting you hard again is going to be a problem. Come here.” He comes over to me as I stand and I don't resist the urge to touch his chest. I look up into his eyes as I gently run my fingertip over his nipple. His hands come to my sides and I feel him gathering up my skirt. I lightly slap his hand away as I shake my head.

“Nuh uh. No touching unless I say so. Do you need me to go over the rules again?”

“You didn’t —No, ma’am.”

“I don’t like the sounds of ‘ma’am’. We’ll have to think of something else, but Ebie will do for now. Lie down on your back.”

Surprisingly he follows that order with no comment. He stretches out in the middle of the bed with his legs slightly open. “I’m going to tie your hands to the headboard with these neck ties. Is that okay?”

He swallows and I see a vein starting to stick out in his forehead, but I also see the evidence of the blood rushing back to his cock as he thinks my request over. Finally he nods and raises his hands over his head. His arms are so long he overestimates just how much room he has and smacks his wrists on the spindles. He’s nervous.

“Shit.”

“Here,” I say as I climb on the bed and straddle his chest. I gently take his right arm and lower it near his head then loop one of the neck ties around his wrist. Then I secure the rest of the satin fabric to the headboard. I do the same with the other wrist then I look down at him. His eyes are closed. I watch him for a few moments. I watch the way his throat moves. I look at that vein in his forehead and resist the urge to run my fingers over it. I listen to his breathing. He’s not breathing hard enough for me to hear it over the white noise of the air conditioner and the relentless rain, but his adrenaline is definitely pumping. He’s ready.

“Silas,” I say quietly. He opens his eyes, like he doesn’t realize he was keeping them shut. “I want you to watch me.”

He eyes scan my face before he lets out a harsh, “Okay.”

I slide down the bed and reach for the box of condoms. I could draw this out and torture us both, but I really need to come and I have no idea how long Silas will last. If we have time, if we have another day and another night, I can really test his limits, but for now I have to give us both what we need. I tear open the flap in the end of the box and rip condom of the end of its little stacked strip. I quickly get him sheathed up then straddle him again.

“How are we doing?” I ask him as I reach between my legs. His eyes are intent on what my hand is doing under my skirt, but he manages to spit out an answer.

“I’m good. Good.”

I steady my own voice as my fingers slide over my pussy. I’m soaking wet. “How do your wrists feel?” I ask him.

“Fine. They’re fine.”

“Good.” My eyes close then, as I start to finger my clit. Jesus, it’s been awhile. I’ve been busy. I rub and pinch myself until I hit that dangerous pace that will bring on my first orgasm without Silas’s help. I don’t want that. I open my eyes and look down at him as I push two fingers into my tight cunt. I can’t help but wince. Still it feels so good. I stop fucking myself, and reach down and wrap my fingers around Silas’s dick.

His erection jumps in my hand, but he keeps it together as I line the head of his cock up with my entrance. I tease us both for a few seconds, rubbing him against my opening and my clit before I slowly lower myself onto him. I have to convince myself not to come the moment he starts to fill me up. His dick is fucking perfect. Perfect length, perfect thickness. It’s hard not to choke Silas at least three times a day. It just so happens that the man who drives me nuts just happens to come with the dick of my dreams.

Inch by inch, I take him with ease. I turn my head to the side and let a deep breath out through my nose. It’s too much. It feels too damn good.

Slowly, I rock my hips forward just a little. He only slides out an inch or so before I slide back down and take him even deeper. I have to go slow. He’s so big.

“Shiitt.” Silas groans. I know that groan and I don’t blame him because I’m right there with him. I am pathetically close to coming all over his lap, but not yet. My eyes snap and I fix him with a deadly stare.

“Don’t come. Don’t you dare come until I say so. Think about farm equipment and next quarter’s sales projections if you have to.”

“I can hold off, just don’t—don’t stop.”

“Trust me. I’m not planning to.” I stop trying to be some sort of strong willed sex goddess and start riding him for real because I can manage to take him to the base. I sit forward and brace myself with my hand on his chest and grind my hips up and down. I want this to last. I want to feel this good all night. I want to bask in the rush of endorphins as his cock massages my g-spot over and over again, but we don’t always get what we want. Instead, something in me breaks and I start riding him like a mad woman. I come once, hard and fast, clenching around him as my eyes squeeze shut and my nails dig into his skin. I hear his moans joining mine as he thrusts up, but he’s not finished. He’s just reveling in it all.

I come down a bit. It’s not enough. I want more. My body needs more. Part of me regrets tying him up, not enough to untie him though. I take a moment to catch my breath, swearing to myself as I rest my head on his shoulder and let the throbbing in pussy subside.

“How are you holding up?” I ask as I nuzzle his beard with my lips. He turns his head a bit, but he can’t quite reach my lip with his.

“I gotta come,” he says. He drops his head back on the pillow and groans. I feel his cock twitch inside of me, but he still holding back. I have to put him out of his misery. I sit up and start to grind my hips again. I come again, almost instantly, but I keep going, riding the pulses of pleasure as my hips rock back and forth, hard. I tell him to come. Whisper it a first and then I say it louder to make sure he hears me. He doesn’t respond. He just lets out another harsh groan and starts pumping his hips off the bed. He catches my rhythm instantly, but I’m not prepared. He almost bounces me off the bed.

“Jesus,” I screech, but it’s definitely a cry of pleasure. He’s hitting it from a completely new angle. I reach over him for the headboard to steady myself and let him do what he will. Something in him snaps and whatever composure he was holding on to completely falls away and it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Silas’s teeth digging into his bottom lip as he pounds me into next week. I know I said I wouldn’t let it happen, but damn if it doesn’t feel so fucking good. Before I can stop myself I’m squirting all over his lap. My hand shoots between my legs as if that’ll do a damn thing to stop me from coming again and again.

“Oh fuck!” he says a few moments a later and I feel it, him filling the condom inside me as I bare down.

I quickly untie both his wrists while I’m still on top of him and then fall onto my back on the covers. My arm flops over my eyes. My body is still going through a sensory overload. I’m still twitching. The dim lamp light is too much for me to handle.

“I figure most of these women you tried to date before never got to the sex portion of things, did they?” I ask, but Silas doesn’t answer me right away. And then I realize after a minute or so of silence Silas isn’t answering me at all.

“Hey,” I say as I open my eyes. Silas stands and walks into the bathroom, still not saying a

word. I hear the toilet flush and he’s back a few moments later, still saying nothing. He doesn’t even look at me as he digs up a fresh pair of boxers and gets back in bed. He lays right on top of the wet spot I’ve created like he doesn’t care. I roll toward him. Still nothing. He’s staring at the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He shoves his hands behind his head. His wrists are a little red, but they won’t bruise. I forget all about his fucking wrists when he finally answers me. “I didn’t like it.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“No. I liked it. I mean, I came really hard. I think I popped a blood vessel on the side of my head. I loved it. You’re good at it. You’re good at sex,” he says. “I just didn’t like.”

My mouth falls open. I close it. It pops open again. I try to process what he just said and I’m pretty sure I hallucinated the whole thing. “I—I’m… not sure what—”

“I wanted to touch you,” he says, turning his head toward me. “I think about touching you all the fucking time. I wanted to touch you more.”

“Oh.” That’s not what I was expecting. “How about this? Since you followed instructions so well.” I reach up for his hand. He’s confused for a moment, but rolls toward me as I put his hand on my right breast. I palm my hand over his and show him how I like it. He catches on, but I leave my hand where it is.

“Can you at least let me see them?” I just came so hard not minutes ago, but the way he asks, his voice all deep and earnest, makes my clit swell again. Without thinking I reach up and pull one of the straps of my dress down. The top is snug enough that I don’t need to wear a bra with it. My breast falls into his hand. I hold still as he picks up with the gentle massaging without my guided assistance, and it becomes harder to keep my cool when his thumb strokes over my nipple.

“Is that better?” I ask.

“Kind of.”

I glare at him. “E cups a let down?”

“No,” he replies and then in one extremely swift move, he slides closer to me and wraps his arm around my waist. His lips go to my neck and find an erogenous zone I never let any of my clients get near.

“Silas,” I warn, but it comes out sounding like a sigh.

“Please.” His hand slips around to my stomach and I feel him hiking up the fabric of my skirt again.

I should say no, but I don’t want to. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what it is about him, but I want to let him touch me everywhere. I want to feel him inside of me again. I stroke his forearm. Feel every vein under that dark skin dusted with dark and light hair. I think about how his muscles looks when he drives. It’s the strangest thing to fixate on, but the memory of it makes me moan. I lace my fingers with his and guide his hand to my clit.

“Is this what you wanted?” I whisper as both our hands soak with my juices.

“Almost.” A curse slips out of me as he lowers his head and draws his tongue across my nipple. I just don’t understand. I don’t get how someone so fucking annoying, someone so damn tactless, can give me exactly what I want. I try to hold on to that as I fight off another orgasm. The way he runs his mouth, the way he confuses the fuck out of me, you’d think it would be enough to shut down any sort of feelings I have for him, but it doesn’t work. He lets me curve my fingers over his hand as he pushes two long fingers inside me.

I try to remember that fact that he actually told me he didn’t enjoy the A-plus sex we just had. My memory is too busy processing the present though, too busy cataloging the way the heel of his hand grinds against my clit. And the way I say his name as he makes me come again and again.

* * *

When I wake up the next morning, it’s still raining. It’s also Saturday, but the weather and the day of the week clearly don’t keep Silas from waking up before dawn and tending to his orchards and his farm animals. I don’t blame him. I usually go into the office on the weekends too. Workaholics unite. I know I should probably get up and check my emails. See what bullshit Murrell managed to cook up for me in the middle of the night, but I can’t bring myself to get up and reach for my phone yet. Or to get up and find my dress.

I still want to punch Silas in the face when I think about listening to him talk, but last night was one of the best nights I’ve spent with a man ever. We were both tired by the time we finished our groping session. I know it was way past his normal bedtime. Still I had the feeling that if I had suggested it, he would have found the strength to power up another hard on and we would have been fucking into the morning. I let out the most pathetic sigh as I look at the cracked plaster on the ceiling.

I don’t know what I’m doing.

I need to go home. I need to stop hiding. The cops aren’t going to fix this. Tillery isn’t going to fix this. Even if he gets concrete proof that Dorrit was behind this, what am I going to do with that information? Am I going to confront him? Am I going to try and blackmail him into confessing and issuing a public apology for trying to have me murdered?

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t even picture the man’s face anymore, I realize. I try, but when I think about that night there are these dark orbs clouding the picture I have in my head. The shape of him is there and there’s a dark blob over his face. I remember his voice. I remember how bright my apartment felt with him standing there in all black against the clean crispness of my apartment. It hasn’t even been a full week and there are already gaps in my memory.

I feel like I’m looking at my life from the end of a narrowing tunnel and whenever I try to see to farther than a few feet in front of me, the opening keeps getting smaller and smaller. I knew… things before. I had a clear sense of what the fuck was going on around me and now I just feel like I’m caught in some weird vortex and I don’t know how to step out. I want something to be different. I want to go back in time. I want a do over. As the thought passes through my mind, I realize exactly what I’m doing. I’m asking myself what if I had done things differently. I realize that part of me thinks all of this is my fault. It’s not. I know it’s not, but that doesn’t change the way I feel.

And then there’s the fact I just fucked Scott’s brother.

I need to tell the girls. I need to tell Brook.

I jump out of bed, maybe a little too fast. I almost take a spill. I regain my balance and feel only a little like an asshole when I realize Honeycrisp is watching.

“You’re so judgmental,” I tell her as I dig up my pajamas. I cover up, then grab my phone. Some missed calls and texts, but nothing from Scott.

I open our group chat.

I start to tell her I can cover it, but I stop.

Busted.

Rayna: LIZ!

Another chat alert pops up. I click over and see Claudia’s messaged me separately.

Heeeey

You okay?

What??

As I’m about to type out my sexually related sins, I hear the front screen door slam open. A second later, I hear Silas telling Joe Namath to move. He comes storming into the bedroom, all wind and dripping rain. His face is kind of red and he’s sweating. He has a large Target bag in his hand. I almost drop my phone. I feel like I’ve been caught, but that’s not the reason my body gets hot all over the second I lay eyes on him.

“Hey,” I say, swallowing the sudden nerves in my throat.

“Are you busy today?” he says.

“No. What’s up?”

“Well I wanted to take you to the drive-in tonight, but I drove by there and there’s about three inches of mud in the lot.”

“Oh. Yeah, getting stuck in the mud doesn’t sound like a good time.”

“No, it isn’t. But we could go to the movie theater in town. I haven’t seen any of the summer blockbusters yet. If you want to.”

“Yeah sure. It’s not like I have plans. Everything cool?”

“Yeah. Fine.” I feel like I shouldn’t know him well enough to call him on his evasive bullshit, but I do know his twin brother very well and I know exactly when Scott is lying. Silas lies in the exact same way. He refuses to make eye contact with me and starts moving things around. He picks up a book and then a tattered spiral notebook and a small crucifix on a chain that looks like it’s at least forty years old. He’s definitely lying, but I don’t push for the truth. I’m not in the mood to have an honest chat myself.

He holds the Target bag up and passes it to me.

“I got you a raincoat and some boots.”

“How’d you know my shoe size?”

“It’s on the bottom of your shoes,” he says, that DUH hanging off the end again. I do feel stupid this time. That was some pretty obvious and basic problem solving right there.

“Maya and Ginny want you to come hang out with them in the Cannery. If you’re not busy. They told me it’s not fair to keep you cooped up in here all day. They’re right.”

“Uh, yeah. I’d like that. Are you in a hurry? I have to shower.” There’s traces of our sex on my thighs still.

“No. I wanted to check on the dogs and change my shirt. Take your time,” he says. He still won’t look at me. And then he leaves the room without another word. Maybe he’ll change his shirt while I’m in the shower.