Jill Marie Denton
Strangelove - Part 2
Jessica cleared her throat. “Like I said, I’m here. So, what’s the process?”
Garrett’s top lip curled a bit as the server approached with their drinks. She set them on coasters while he handed their menus over. “We’ll split the sampler, take your time. We’re not in a hurry.”
The server visibly relaxed at his request and excused herself with a nod.
Across the table, Jessica snickered. “I turned thirty-four last month and a man has never ordered for me in my entire life.”
“Well I’m forty-four, and a gentleman, so I won’t be sending a lady who drove thirty miles to see me home without something in her stomach. You’ll just have to comply.”
His tone had taken on an impending and insistent undertone but there was no hostility in it, no heat in the words themselves. The word comply, how he almost sighed the second syllable, echoed between her ears. Heat blossomed in her lap and she crossed her legs instinctively under the table.
“All right, I’ll comply,” she echoed, quieting her voice with narrowed eyes. “Now, what’s the process?”
He nodded once, his gaze fixed on hers. “This is step one, exactly what we’re doing. Conversation, understanding, familiarity, all with the goal of building trust. Some clients don’t want trust. They want to feel like their lives are in danger, like they’re succumbing to a stranger. You don’t. I know that full well. If you believe the danger is real, you’ll panic before we get anywhere. You’ll run away before you even have a chance to enjoy yourself. So, you need to trust me. You need to know I have your best interests and your needs in mind, and that I won’t hurt you, at least not too much or too permanently, before we go any further.”
Jessica froze on the bench, her mind considering the implications of turning over control. He
could hurt her, maim her or even kill her and she wouldn’t be able to fight back. Terrifying. And a little bit thrilling.
She released a shaky breath. “Okay. A little danger’s nice but you’re right about not wanting to have permanent scars. What’s step two?”
“I saw you tense up just then so it’s important to mention, this is all about permission on both sides. If it takes six weeks or six months to build trust, then that’s what it takes. I’m a patient man. When you’re comfortable enough to move on, you’ll say so and we will. Step two involves showing you the tools of the trade. You’ll have a chance to inspect, to ask questions, to see them in action before anything is used on you. And anything you don’t want used on you gets tucked away, out of sight and out of mind.”
Racy images flashed through Jessica’s mind then, the type that made toes curl. Tools of the trade, indeed. He no doubt had a huge collection of equipment, all ready to use and abuse her with. She’d done a little research and knew what to look for in his collection already.
“And after I’ve inspected the wares, chosen what I’m interested in?”
He closed the space between them, leaning forward and lowering his voice to a threadbare whisper. “Step three. You’ll ask me to use them and I will, whenever you desire. You’ll surrender yourself to me. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to the level of pleasure you’re looking for. And you’ll comply with my every demand or I’ll punish you. You’ll watch me work hard for you. You’ll have the greatest, most intense orgasm of your life. And you’ll walk away feeling exhilarated and powerful.”
“Or my money back?” Jessica’s lips twisted into a grin.
He sat back with a proud snicker at the server brought over a massive plate, setting it between them. Leaving a stack of napkins behind, she rushed off to the next table.
“No refunds. You won’t ask for one anyway. Now help me dust this off. Gwen’ll kill me if I eat this entire thing.”
Jessica uncrossed her legs, sat back and carefully chose the biggest jalapeno popper from the platter.
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