Page 14 of Dirty Work
Chapter Eleven
Again, I find myself in the back of a cab with Bryan. My heart races like it did the first time he touched me, when I was unclear on what he wanted. But now, even though I know what he wants, I’m as excited as I was when I first felt him: his lips, his fingers, his hands. All of it. All of him.
He slips a hand into my bra and feels my modest breasts, teasing one nipple between a thumb and forefinger. He brushes aside my dark hair and breathed upon my neck, letting his lips languish there and fill me with anticipation.
He guides me out of the car and into his building, through the lobby and into the elevator and into his apartment like he had before. But this time, there is something different about his walk. And there is something different about what I feel toward him.
Before, he was just some guy who came onto me, was hot, had an amazing body and who I thought - okay, let me get rid of my V-card once and for all, and this guy would be the perfect candidate to just get it over with. But now, there is more to him. He is someone who’s given me a gift, a huge gift, even though he didn't have to. He would get nothing in return. He was doing it purely because he felt like doing something for me, something that would matter and make me happy.
“So, you like books? I know you didn’t just want an excuse to have a few guys fight over you. That's not your style. You’re too strong for that.”
“You weren’t exactly fighting over me. It was just you and Greg, and you were both just messing around. You knew that you were going to get me.” I wrap my arms around his waist. “You really didn’t have to donate all that money.”
“Look.” He pushes me away from his body, taking my face in his hands and strumming a thumb against my cheek. “I wanted to do something for you. Not just so you know I’m serious about us. Something foryou.” He puts his hands over my chest, as though he’s protecting me.
I want to tell him the truth. I want to tell him everything.
I chose the library as my charity because my grandmother had been a librarian there when she first emigrated to America in the 1930s. That’s where my family had lived, in Greenpoint, and they had struggled as most immigrant families do. But my mom and grandmother instilled a love of books in me - and not just of reading them. Of preserving them, taking care of them. And my father had been an English teacher. She wanted to do something to honor her family.
And since I’ve moved back to Brooklyn, where my family had put down roots so long ago, I learned that that branch was in financial trouble, and I thought it would be nice to give them some money, even if it was only a little bit.
I certainly never imagined that the library would be giventhatmuch money.
But I don’t want to tell Bryan all of that. Not yet. It would be too much, too personal, too fast.
Sure, I’d have sex with him and let him do things to me that no other guy has, but telling him about my family seems too intimate, and I don’t know yet where the relationship would go.
But Bryan seems to know where it’ll go.
“I want to show you something.” He guides me into the bedroom and pushes me onto the bed. His duvet cover is made of luxurious cotton, and his bed has the softest sheets I’ve ever felt.
He slips a black silk mask out of his nightstand drawer.
“Can I put this on you? I want you to be able to focus only on your own pleasure. I don’t want you to be distracted at all. By work, even by me. May I?”
The idea of having all of his attention lavished upon my body awakes a deep flutter in my clit, and I nod. I try to loosen an affirmation from my throat, but my mouth feels dry.
“Yes.” I’m finally able to choke out my approval. My own word sends a shiver through me and my pussy gets wet at the idea of having Bryan do things to me that I can’t see.
“Then lie down and let me do this to you,” he growls.
Let me do this to you.
As though he is going to take no mercy on my body, that he would take total control of me, and that all I need to do is give in and let him.
I lay back upon the bed and draw in a sharp, short breath. I felt as though my body could already burst, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
With a jolt, I feel my body plunging back onto the bed, accelerated by Bryan’s firm hands upon my shoulders. He slips the blindfold over my eyes and ties it in a neat package around my loose wavy hair.
He slipped a hand up my thigh, and discovers that I’m not wearing any panties.
“You didn’t wear any panties to the auction, knowing that you could be going on a date with any one of those fucking losers who was desperate to talk to you?”
“No,” I say. “I knew I would only be with you.”
“That’s a good girl. You’re only mine.”
He parts my folds and finds my clit, and with three fingers, focuses on that part of me. I feel all the blood in my body flow there, filling me with a pounding rush. Even though I’m wearing the blindfold, I’m not rendered unable to see. Not exactly. I can see the dark expanse of a room in the dark, the kind of vision that I feel is only possible when gliding against a lover with the lights off.
