Safeword Quinacridone (3 page)

She focused on the steering wheel and ran through an inventory in her head; she’d shaved this morning, and her panties were pretty sexy, but she’d worn a functional white bra. Oh well, it couldn’t be helped now. She took a fortifying breath — not sure this was a good idea, but knowing for certain she didn’t want to sit through dinner with him to get another kiss. “I’m not opposed to sex on the first date but I’ve gotten hurt with guys I’ve just met, so if we’re going to, you’ll need to come back to my place.”

“Hurt? Physically? Were you injured?”

He sounded genuinely concerned, which threw her off balance, but she merely said, “It’s not important. The point is I’ve learned going to someone’s house when I don’t know them isn’t safe, okay?”

“You didn’t strike me as...”

He stopped mid-sentence and it was her turn to finish his thought. “A slut? A whore?” She turned to face him, her eyes blazing in self-defense. “You have no room to throw stones here, Travis.”

“No, that’s not it.” He shook his head, raising his hands in a show of contrition. “It was just
...
unexpected. I didn’t call you a slut, okay? You’re so shy; it threw me off guard.” He smiled, hesitant. “Your housemates’ll be okay with you bringing me home?”

Oh god, what if he wouldn’t leave? Most of the guys she took home were looking for their clothes thirty seconds after they got their rocks off, but she’d judged wrong a few times and had to boot the losers out the door with false threats of Papa Bear having their ass if he caught them there the next morning. She cut her eyes to him. “Just to be clear, it’s not an offer to spend the night. I’m inviting you over for sex.”

Damn, what the hell was she doing? Her friends had done a full intervention on her years ago when she’d been addicted to one-night stands — needing the adrenaline rush of sex with a stranger the same way drug addicts craved their next fix. She hadn’t stopped until she’d landed in the hospital with two broken ribs, a cracked cheekbone, a tear in her anus, and countless bruises. Everything had healed with no lasting effects but the experience convinced her to make better choices in how and where, although it hadn’t brought a total halt to her adventuring out to find people who’d take care of the itch.

She’d only brought a dozen or so strangers home in the two years she’d lived in her current house, mainly because she’d accumulated a few fuck buddies she could call on who fucked her like she needed — rough and without care. She was sore for days after a session with Junior — her arms bruised from his hands grabbing and holding her in place, her ass aching since his idea of preparation was a pre-lubed condom. She only needed to find strangers once every couple of months now, to get her fix.

Customarily, she asked a series of questions to see if the guy was seeing someone, because she never wanted to be the ‘other woman’. Sex with a single guy was fine — no strings, and no one gets hurt. However, the one time she’d discovered someone she’d slept with was in a monogamous relationship it had devastated her
...
despite the fact she’d asked him beforehand and he’d lied. Promises should be kept, and while she loved having her body used for sex, she never wanted to be used to hurt someone, or break a promise. However, it seemed safe to assume Travis was single.

The backs of his fingers gently touched the side of her face and she turned her head slightly, regarding him with one eye.

His tone serious, he said, “I’m going to ask four or maybe five questions, and I need you to answer honestly. If I’m still invited I’ll come with you no matter your responses, but I must know the answers before I can follow you home.”

“What questions?”

“How were you hurt? I need details.”

She looked back at the steering wheel. “Why is it important?”

“Because I don’t want to do anything close to what he did. Please look at me.”

She shifted sideways and focused on the dash in front of him. “Unless you’re planning to punch me in the face I don’t think there’s a danger of that happening.”

His voice remained kind. Soft. “Is that all he did? Monsters who’ll use their fist on a woman don’t usually stop there. Did he rape you?”

Her head dropped and her gaze fell to the gearshift. She extricated a piece of grit from a seam in the plastic with a fingernail as she said, “I’m not comfortable talking about it. I went home with someone I didn’t know and he hurt me enough to land me in the hospital. We had sex, but it wasn’t rape because I went to his place to fuck. I’m not telling you anything else about it.”

“No means no with me, even if I’ve already been promised sex. If you said no and he did anyway, it was rape — doesn’t matter if you’d said yes earlier. How long ago was this?”

She shrugged without looking up. “Not quite three years, maybe two and a half? I don’t know; it’s not recent. I’m not emotionally scarred or anything.” She flicked her hands, brushing it off. “I made a mistake; it won’t happen again.” It wasn’t rape. She couldn’t deal with it if she labeled it that way. She’d said yes earlier, so it’d been her choice.

“How often do you invite people you just met back to your place?”

“Not as much as you probably think, and I always insist on protection. I haven’t been tested in about four months, but I was clean and I’ve been safe every time since, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His fingers touched the bottom of her chin, gently lifting her face until her gaze met the warm and confident eyes of the man who had kissed her, not the one she’d had dinner with. “A final question and then I’ll follow you back to your place if I’m still invited. Do you know what a safeword is?”

She shook her head and he nodded without looking pleased or displeased. “Okay then, anything I should know about meeting your housemates?”

It was another question but she didn’t correct him. “Yeah, be nice to Papa Bear or he’ll boot your ass before you get near my room.”

He raised an eyebrow but only said, “There’s a drug store across the street. I need to make a quick stop.”

Normally she’d have said she had condoms, but she wasn’t comfortable sharing that information at the moment so she nodded her assent. He pulled her to him, kissed her lightly on the forehead, and unfolded himself from her car.

She reached for her phone and switched the music to
Bohemian Rhapsody
before pulling out of her parking spot and waiting for him to follow.
 

Chapter Three

Cara parked and stepped to the sidewalk to wait for Travis to exit his car. They walked side by side to the porch and as they went through the front door she reached for his hand to lead him through the house, avoiding the de
n area so she wouldn’t have to make introductions. This felt even more uncomfortable than usual, with him tongue-tied and politely awkward again. She wanted him to have his paws all over her making her wild with desire so she didn’t have time to think about the fact she was about to have sex with someone she didn’t know. This wasn’t working — the kiss had probably been a fluke and this was definitely a mistake.

Papa Bear was sitting on the steps leading to the bedrooms, as she’d known he would, and he stood as they neared. He was only about three inches taller than Travis but easily had a hundred pounds on him. Travis offered his hand, suddenly socially at ease with no sign of awkwardness. “Hello, I’m Travis.”

“Most everyone calls me Papa Bear,” he said as they shook. “You can call me Bear if you prefer.” He turned his head to Cara. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

She grinned. “I know you will. Thanks.”

He grunted at her and walked past them towards the main part of the house.

“He was waiting here to meet me?”

“Yeah, he does that. C’mon upstairs, this is where the bedrooms are.”

“I love these old houses, and this one’s beautiful. I wouldn’t want one but I enjoy spending time in them.”

“Why wouldn’t you want one?”

He grimaced. “Too hard to retrofit and too much of a pain for upkeep. I engineered my home so it can easily be upgraded to better and better technology as it’s invented.”

“Ah, right. Geek stuff. Here we are.”

She opened her door and motioned him in. He stepped through and looked around, saying, “Wow, this is a big room, and you have your own bathroom too.”

“Yeah, the bedrooms in these old houses were small so most everyone ended up with two rooms as their personal space, allowing for a bath and a large closet. They tore the wall between the two rooms out and...” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I like it. The people on the floor above share a bathroom between two rooms and have barely any closet space. The extra rent for this floor was more than worth it.”

She could have kicked herself, talking about mundane things like rent to a billionaire. Looking around, she tried to see her space through his eyes — the pale pink walls, flowery curtains, solid light green comforter with a zillion pillows matching either the striped loveseat or the floral window treatments. He seemed to take it all in, but gave the most attention to her computer’s dual monitor setup and pen-tablet input devices. Figured.

They talked for another five minutes without him making a move as he sat in her desk chair while she perched on the edge of her bed. They covered her computer set-up and the software she preferred, they discussed the pros and cons of different pressure sensitive pen-tablets, and finally, she said, “You know, I don’t think this is working. If you want to leave its okay, you won’t hurt my feelings.”

No sooner had she gotten the words out, he stood and walked to her, pushing her backwards on the bed and parking his knee beside her hips, and gave another soul-shattering kiss with the weight of his body inches above hers and his presence weighing her down. When he stopped kissing her he didn’t move away but pulled his face a few inches above hers and quietly said, “Would you like to take your clothes off, or shall I remove them?” There was no hesitation in his words, no consideration of another option.

Cara opened her mouth to talk and realized she had no air in her lungs. She took a breath, pulling in enough for speech. “I’ll take mine off while you do yours.”

The muscle in his jaw flexed. “No, my clothes are staying put for now. I want you naked.”

“Fuck you. I’m not undressing if you aren’t. This isn’t a strip show.”

His eyes studied her dispassionately, his face almost a mask. “I believe fucking me is the end goal but I’ll get undressed when I’m ready. Probably after you’ve had two or three orgasms, but not before.”

His cocky, emotionless manner suddenly had her wanting him to take her — to
use
her, and she raised her finger to the narrow space between their bodies and kept eye contact as she unbuttoned her crop pants and slid the zipper down. He pushed away from her and took a few steps back, his gaze following her every move as he calmly watched her stand and allow her pants to drop to the floor.

She’d worn black undies shaped like hip-hugger short shorts that showed part of her ass without being a thong. She pulled her shirt over her head and stood before him in black panties and a boring plain white bra. He turned her and fumbled with the clasp before sliding the bra-straps down her arms, obviously not used to unfastening the eyelets. She pivoted back and his mouth met hers once more as his hand slid up her rib cage to fondle her breast gently. His kiss was tender, and it did absolutely nothing for her.

She heard herself sigh, and cringed inwardly — she hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed. He backed off and looked at her face a few seconds, dropped his gaze to her breasts, and returned his eyes to hers as he pulled her in for another kiss.

He took charge this time, his hand on her back holding her in place while aggressive fingers squeezed and massaged her breast, and she fought to catch her breath. She melted into him and her arms circled his neck as his hand dipped lower and slipped into her panties, fingers driving into her depths and pushing her backwards onto the bed.

He held her from the inside as she fell back, and once she was lying flat he finger-fucked her with skilled strokes designed to drive her crazy as his mouth continued ravishing hers and his long, strong fingers demanded she accept his unrelenting invasion. Her eyes closed and her spine arched; her body a tightrope for several long seconds as her orgasm built and quickly released in an explosive crescendo that had her humping his hand shamelessly as she thrashed on the bed, the sensations too much for her to contain.

When she was breathing mostly normal again he pulled her panties off, moved his mouth to her nipples, and tantalizingly circled her clit with his finger. Cara moved her hips, wanting more, needing more, and he bit down on her nipple and plunged fingers into her simultaneously, and another climax was suddenly on top of her, engulfing her in ecstasy. She began a scream and remembered her housemates, silencing the outcry as her lips remained open in a soundless shout as she rode the waves of bliss.

When she quieted, still horny but relaxed for the moment; he stood, stripped, and pulled a condom from his pants pocket before loosely folding them over her chair. He peeled his boxer briefs down to show a hard cock, took two steps toward the bed, hesitated, and bent to remove his socks.