Safeword Quinacridone (6 page)

Opening the shoebox, she was dismayed to see high heels — she’d break an ankle if she even attempted walking in them. She spotted a pale green mid-thigh length robe on a hook and grabbed it before returning to the other bathroom, where Travis was looking through a cabinet, his back to her.

“The dresses are gorgeous but my feet aren’t going near those shoes.”

He turned his head, startled, as if he hadn’t heard her return. “Why not?”

She smirked. “Tell you what, you put the biggest size on and walk up and down the steps for ten minutes without twisting an ankle, and I’ll consider it.”

He grinned and said, “Ummm, no thanks,” before reaching for the giant margarita on the counter and handing it to her. “I could get more shoes delivered but it sounds like you’d be happiest if I order something to eat here before driving you home.”

She shook her head. “I can put my clothes back on and we can stop at a Cracker Barrel or Applebee’s. We don’t have to eat somewhere with a dress code, you know.”

“But,” he said, moving closer and caressing her cheek. “I want to treat you to something special.”

Her insides fluttered at the way his eyes focused on her, and when she didn’t respond he said, “Let me order us something good. I can have it here in forty-five minutes or an hour, plenty of time for us to do foot massages and get clean. I’ll have a buyer bring something casual for you to wear home so you don’t have to put your sweaty clothes back on. Just, please let me take care of you while you’re with me.”

She turned away and stripped as quickly as possible, stepping into the tub and sinking into the water before saying, “Okay. I’ll try not to be too difficult.”

Travis pulled a bottle of massage oil from the cabinet before shucking his clothes and followed her into the tub. He brought his phone and made the call to order their food, asking for the daily special and checking with her before ordering on her behalf, and then called downstairs to let Edward know food was expected.

When he clicked off he turned the jets on and watched quietly as she shampooed and rinsed her hair, then put conditioner on and piled it up, leaving it to sit. He didn’t make her feel self-conscious and she noted again how much better they did with each other when naked.

He caught her off guard when he reached for her foot, propping it on his leg and dribbling oil over it. His hands felt like heaven as strong, agile fingers probed spots she hadn’t known needed attention. She oiled one of his feet, massaging in her own way, and became lost in the process of learning what he seemed to like and not like, the feel of the muscles in his feet and how they reacted as she manipulated them.

They were both finishing the second foot when Cara heard a soft chime and looked up. Travis did so at the same time and their gazes collided, leaving them speechless for the few moments it took resurface.

He smiled. “It’s okay, Edward will walk the delivery person in and see everything’s set up, and will ding when they leave. It’ll take them five or ten minutes, so we have time to finish.”

Cara’s legs felt like jelly all the way to her thighs even though he’d only massaged her feet and ankles. She gently placed his foot back on the tub’s bottom before rinsing the conditioner from her hair with the handheld sprayer.

* * * *

When they sat down to eat, Cara was wearing the robe with her towel-dried hair clipped neatly away from her face; and Travis wore loose navy silk pajama pants. The food was artfully displayed on beautiful dishes. It felt incredibly decadent.

She held up an over-sized fork, simultaneously graceful and masculine. “Did you buy any of this? I mean, I know your money paid for it but did you pick it out or did others choose it for you?”

“Here? People bought it for me. My home in Chattanooga is a mixture of my tastes and professional advisers keeping me from looking like an idiot. I had the designers walk through to get an idea of my style and then they decided how to furnish the condo, though I approved via pictures and layouts before they did anything.” He shrugged. “I like it well enough but it’s their doing, not mine. Are you going to get mad at me again if I ask more personal questions?”

Cara set her water down and watched a bead of perspiration roll down the side of her glass. “I can answer more questions but I’d rather not while we eat. This is delicious; good call on choosing it over Cracker Barrel.”

When they finished dinner she used one of the round brushes to blow-dry her hair into submission so it cascaded mostly the same direction and she could leave it loose. She had a lot of hair and it rarely did what it was supposed to, but the high priced shampoo and conditioner must have had a dash of magic because her wild mane was actually doing what she wanted. Mostly.

When she left the bathroom Travis was sitting on his bed on top of the comforter, looking at a huge tablet. She hadn’t realized they were making them so big.

He saw her and leaned to put it on one of the bedside tables, and patted a spot near him as he sat back up. Her legs slid over the luxurious comforter as she climbed onto the tall bed and settled in front of him with her legs crisscross and the robe covering her nicely.

“You guessed part of my secret but there’s more. Before I talk about it though, I want you.” He leaned forward and ran his hand through her hair, finger combing it back. A hint of frustration passed through his eyes and he kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry, I’m going about this backwards. There are some questions I need to ask before we do anything else.” He tilted her head until their eyes met. “Have you ever had anal sex, Cara?”

The question caught her off guard and she pulled away from his hand and looked down, embarrassed at his casual mention of something so taboo. She’d been taken
back there
, a lot, but she’d never talked about it. A few guys had asked as they were probing in but most had just gone for it. Not capable of looking at him or replying aloud, she stared at her big toe and dipped her head in answer.

“It embarrasses you? It shouldn’t. I enjoy it, and if you do too then we’re good. If you don’t, we’ll do something else tonight.”

Her gaze still focused on her toe, not brave enough for eye contact, she found her voice enough to say, “No, it’s okay. I mean, I’m not against it. I just don’t like talking about it.”

“Do you remember when I told you to say yellow if you couldn’t breathe, or needed me to understand something wasn’t working for you?”

She looked up, not sure where he was going, and nodded cautiously.

“Here’s one of my secrets. I like it when a girl begs me to stop but I can keep going. I like it when I can hurt her a little, but I don’t wish to cause pain she’s not okay with, and it wouldn’t be good for either of us if she
really
wanted me to back off. So we agree to a word that’ll mean stop, and then she can say
no
and
stop
and
please don’t
all she wants and we can pretend I’m forcing her. I’m telling you this because I think you’d like it too.”

“What word?” Her gaze returned to the comforter and she had to concentrate to sit still. She found herself intrigued, but mortified at her body’s reaction.

“It’s your word; you get to choose. It shouldn’t be something we’d normally say during sex and it’s better if you find one with special meaning, something personal.”

She raised her head again, needing to see his face but wanting to look at the comforter. “If
yellow
meant slow down and check in I’m betting
red
is used for something more serious, right?”

He nodded and she said, “Okay then. Quinacridone. That’s my stop word.”

His face broke into a lopsided smile, as if relieved she was going along with this. “Quinacridone. That’s a new one. What does it mean?”

“It’s a red pigment.” She suddenly felt shy again and looked away. “It’s used in higher quality paints sometimes.”

He chuckled, a happy laugh. “Do you have a word you’d like to use for yellow?”

Eyes still averted, she shook her head and focused once more on her big toe. “No, yellow’s fine.”

His fingers touched under her chin, gently lifting her face. “I want to spank you, Cara. I want to put you over my lap and spank you with my hand, and if you like it enough maybe with a paddle, too. Then I want to play with your asshole with my fingers, get you ready for me before I fuck you there. If you say
quinacridone
, I’ll stop and hold you and do everything I can to make you okay. If you say yellow I’ll back off, see what needs adjustment, and we’ll carry on.” He leaned forward
,
kissed her forehead. “If you tell me to stop, or say no, or ask me not to do something, or call me a fucking bastard, I’ll keep going.”

He tilted his head and seemed to study her a few seconds before asking, “Sound like something you want to do?”

“Spank me? Like a kid?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not like a kid. This isn’t punishment; it’s for fun. I’ll make it good for you and if you don’t like it we’ll stop.”

The idea didn’t sound so bad, but the reality? To drape herself across his lap
and present
her ass for a spanking? Could she? She’d rather not have to submit to it, which was the great thing about most of the assholes she screwed — they did what they wanted and didn’t make her talk about it.

She felt so vulnerable when he made her look at him. His finger was still under her chin and she aimed her eyeballs down, trying to escape his gaze.

He moved his hand, letting her have control of her face again and said, “I won’t make you ask for it
,
but I need to hear what you’ll say if you want me to stop.”

Her eyes were focused on the navy and forest comforter, seeing the patterns in the soft brushed microfiber that felt almost like baby fine deerskin. “Quinacridone.”

“Okay. Over my lap then Cara Mia, you can leave the robe on if you like.”

He readjusted until he was seated with his back against the headboard and legs straight out. Cara crawled to him, as it seemed the easiest way to get there, but it felt odd and she was a little surprised to discover it turned her on. She draped herself over his lap, leaving her robe on.

A weight rested on her ass — no heat, just a weight — his hand over the robe.

“I like starting with clothes sometimes; it’s fun to reveal what’s underneath. Kind of like unwrapping a present.”

His hand smoothed its way down her bottom to her thigh, and she felt the warmth of his palm as it traveled lower than the robe and they were skin on skin. His fingers were silky soft as he drew them back up, pushing the fabric up her legs.

She felt herself grow wet and wanted to wiggle her ass on his lap, but she held oh-so-still, barely breathing. This was a brand new experience and her body loved it but her mind was reeling. His hand was at the top of her left thigh now, slowly sliding its way up, and the cooler air brushed her skin as he pushed the robe higher, and higher.

When her ass was bare he caressed slow circles, then back and forth and up and down, and returned to circles. His hand left her ass and she flinched for the first strike, but it was more of a pat than a spank. The next was slightly harder than a pat, smarting a little without hurting.

Wow. Okay. She felt her bottom raise and blushed, realizing how it must look from his vantage point.

The pats turned into smacks, the smacks transitioned to spanks, but by then she was humping his leg. She managed to move so her clit found just the right amount of stimulation, and then stopped, because she might come, and how embarrassing would i
t be to orgasm from a spanking?

His hand kept to a steady cadence and her ass grew warm, then hot. The rhythm, and the pounding — it was almost as if he’d found another way to fuck her. His palm landed with a slap over and over again, as a cock would move inside of her, but it was his hand on her ass, skin to skin with no condom.

Her ass throbbed, with each pulse bringing yet more heat. She started humping his lap again, raising her ass to his hand, lowering it to his lap, raising back up to meet his striking hand, and stimulating her clit until she was on the verge of an explosive orgasm—

And he stopped.

“It’s time for me to explore your ass now, Cara Mia. Don’t move. I know you’re horny and I know you’re close. You’ll come soon enough but I want you on edge for this.”

His lubed finger pushed into her ass and s
he slid her knees apart and arched her back.

“Mmmm, you want this. Good. We’ll talk about what you like and don’t like later. I know you don’t want to but we will anyway.” His finger
slipped
in and out
distributing the lube,
and she ached for more. “You think it’ll mess things up because you mistakenly believe you won’t be able to pretend you don’t want it, if you admit you like it.” Two fingers pushed in and she raised to meet them. “Oh, good girl, nice and relaxed.”

He tentatively added a third finger, and when it was in said, “I don’t believe you’re used to the luxury of having someone get you ready
;
such a good girl at relaxing for whatever I give you. This excites me, the possibility of fucking
you here without preparing you —
making you take me all at once.” He pressed them all the way in, pushing hard as he talked, and pulled partway out, slowly fucking her with them. “But not today. Today I’m going to play with you, watch your ass as I open it.”