…just so ya’ll know I’m working. 🙂
In this scene Xander and Lee met again after almost 15 years apart in an airport. He’s made his intentions clear: he wants her back. Period. She wants that too, but the pain of the past hasn’t healed completely for either of them…
“Still won’t talk about it?” He teased.
Lee glared at him and moved away. No, she didn’t talk about it. She hadn’t really done their type of sexual play with anyone else. Only Xander brought out her need to be submissive. Other men didn’t.
Well, one had. A tall, beautiful black man named Lance. He was Jamaican, but his dominance, while natural and wonderfully sexual, extended too far outside of the bedroom. It drove her nuts because unlike with Xander there was no love to make it tolerable.
“You don’t have to,” he whispered. “As long as you let me love you, you don’t have to say a word.” He pulled her close. “I want to see you tomorrow.”
Lee frowned, confused. “Are you asking me out?”
“Yes. I’ll pick you up at 7:30. We’ll go have a drink and get something to eat.”
She stared at him, smiling when he raised his brow at her.
“Alright,” she said mildly.
“Wear a dress.”
He drove her home then, riding the whole way with his hand on her thigh, absently stroking her soft skin as though it comforted him. He walked her to the door and saw her inside, then kissed her against a wall in the foyer until she begged him to go. Even then he only complied when she yawned and admitted the journey that had taken her to the airport had been a quick overnight trip, and she was exhausted.
“Alright,” he said reluctantly. “See you tomorrow. I can’t wait to see your house when it’s light out,” he grinned, and was gone.
Lee stood with her back against the front door for awhile, working up the strength to walk upstairs to bed. She felt like she’d been run over. She’d just rediscovered an old lover, the old lover, who had, in the space of a few hours, given her multiple orgasms, two spankings, and a head full of confusion. And she would see him again tomorrow.
Washing her face and cleaning her teeth she told herself she couldn’t fall back under Xander’s spell. She’d let him take one bite, and he’d suck away her spirit like an incubus.
She wouldn’t care one bit either. She would revel in being constantly on her back, in his bed, soaking up the pleasure and the gentle bullying that was his special offering. The sexual games would start. Her will and independence would fade until the old, tattered threads that held her apart from him were so thin and transparent, a good yank would snap them into dust.
Patting her face dry she shivered. She had little control over Xander. If he got his hooks into her again, the battle between her body and her head would take over until she forgot all the time they’d spent apart, until she forgot that he had yet to explain why he’d abandoned her all those years ago. She’d be like a puppet dancing on a string because the fight between his rampant sexuality and her own feeble resistance was a battle she had never, ever won.
Once Xander had wanted every piece of her, and nothing had changed. She still had an insatiable need to give him whatever he asked. He’d consume her, and the pain. She shuddered.
The pain when they’d parted in Gatlin had been like a physical wound, open, gaping, and it had healed so slowly. She couldn’t face it again. She’d ached for him, longed for him, had even tried to fuck him from her system a few times. Sadly she found that sex only turned off her mind for so long, and Xander had played with her mind most of all.
She was like a baby in a thin blanket, set outside to fend for itself in the rain, totally vulnerable. She was going to try and stop him, but he was going to get her, and he wasn’t going to get much of a fight.