“Goody!” she cried with glee, and I frowned. Seriously?

She sat beside me and pushed her face into my neck and grabbed at my crotch with her right hand. I jumped but let her work her technique on me.

Nothing happened until she sighed, and my brain immediately remembered Stephanie’s sounds. I was hard as a rock then, but not for Michelle.

“Oh, baby, you’re ready for momma, aren’t you? Does baby need a titty too?” She pushed the open panel of her dress aside and revealed a bare breast to me. Only, I didn’t want to touch her at all now.

“Um…” I looked at her with an expression that I couldn’t control. Her words disgusted me, and when she tried to press her breast in my face, I’d backed up.

“No.”

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want me?” She looked confused and a little miffed as she glared at me.

Michelle was obviously far too dominant for my tastes, and she had some odd kink that I wasn’t into at all. I pushed her away and stood. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Not feeling well all of a sudden.”

“But you haven’t fucked me yet! You know we don’t give refunds, right?”

She bared her other breast, as if that would tempt me.

It might have if I hadn’t spent an hour and a half at a restaurant with her, only to come back and have her start some mommy fetish with me. If she’d just stayed quiet, I might have been able to fuck her; I might have been able to stamp Stephanie out of my memory, but she just wouldn’t shut up.

“It’s alright, I don’t need the money back. Take it. And here, this too.” I took a $50 out of my pocket and handed it to her. “Thanks, but yeah, not feeling

well.”

Obviously, I wasn’t going to get Stephanie out of my system that way.

Maybe a week wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t long enough to form an attachment or anything. I needed to talk to Roxie. I’d fucked up; maybe I could fix the night before it was over with.

I thought about offering her two weeks but knew how easily I became bored.

I couldn’t get her out of my system with one night, but surely a week would do it? She was only a woman, after all. Right?

14

EMILY

I t wasn’t any surprise that when I turned my phone on around five that

evening it vibrated for a full five minutes. Mason had blown my

phone up. I thought it would burst into flames before it finally came to a rest. I stared at it for a few seconds once it finally stopped, not sure it was done.

I opened the cover on it and pressed the button so the screen would come on.

Mason had called, stalked my Facebook, Instagram; he’d even been on my Snapchat and sent me texts. He needed me; Laura was ill. I felt bad that I’d ignored my phone all day, when he’d truly needed me this time, but I hadn’t been there.

“Mason, how’s it going?” I asked once he’d picked up my call. I’d dialed him back as soon as I saw the message that Laura was in the hospital.

“Not so good, sis. We have the plane at the airport. Can you make it back here tonight?” Mason sounded tired, even over the phone, and a pang of guilt pierced my heart.

“Of course, Mason.” I thought about Mr. Dark, but I knew that could wait.

“What have they said about her condition?”

“Her gallbladder has to come out. It’s about to rupture, and if that happens, she’ll have a much longer recovery and have a lot of procedures. I don’t know; the doctor said so much I couldn’t take it all in.” I heard a note of panic in his voice and wanted to say, this, this is when you call me, but I didn’t.

It wasn’t the time for admonishments, it was the time to be a sister. “I’ll pack a bag and head out in about fifteen minutes, Mason. Don’t worry about the kids.

I’ll be there with them soon.”

I could picture the little faces of Francesca, Nick, and Alex, confused and lost without their momma. They probably had no idea what was going on and were terrified for their mother. I’d be there soon enough to reassure them.

Gallbladders weren’t so bad, but if hers was bad enough it was about to rupture, she was in trouble. She was definitely in a lot of pain and probably had been for a long time. Which was probably why she had forgot my birthday, I thought as I drove to the airport. This wasn’t something sudden; it was something she’d been dealing with for a while.

My mother had to have hers out when I was thirteen, and even as a teenager, I’d been afraid for her. I could remember how sick she’d been before it was removed, how much pain she’d been in. Poor Laura, and there I’d been like a whiny brat, having a fit because nobody remembered my birthday. Guilt wracked me, but I kept driving.

I’d make it up to her now and keep her children safe until she could take that job up again. It wasn’t that hard; they were small children. They needed to be kept entertained, fed, and cared for, and I’d had a lot of practice at that. I sat in the leather seat of the beautifully decorated jet and waited. The flight wouldn’t take long, and I’d be in Charlotte before I knew it.

The trip was long enough that I had time to wonder about Mr. Dark and to

think about the way I’d spent the previous night. Was he thinking of me?

Remembering? I felt stupid for it, but I’d hoped he was. He’d offered me three days, but I wondered if I could talk him into more? Like him, I didn’t want a relationship, or I’d have found a man some other way. I’d wanted an education, to be pleasured, and to get on with my life.

But was that all? He’d made me aware of what I’d missed out on my whole

life, and now, I wanted to be greedy. I wanted it all, desperately. Maybe I should be afraid of myself, the need I felt, or afraid of him, and the things he planned to do. The things he made me want. I wasn’t afraid, though, not with him.

He made me feel safe, secure, and empowered. Like I could say no if I wanted to. He made me feel as if I could make a demand that would be met.

Like my input would have some relevance to a final decision. Like I’d found a

missing piece of me with him. Or maybe he was that piece?

That was an even scarier thought, and I pushed it away. I didn’t need to do something like fall in love with a man, just because he’d made me come. That was stupid. Anybody with the right skills could get a woman off. We were known to even get ourselves off. That wasn’t love. That was appreciation. Or something like that; I wasn’t sure what to call it exactly.

Freedom, perhaps? That sounded right, and I smiled a half smile. Imagine, finding freedom in submission. But I had, as I knew I would, from the moment I saw a woman in a video tied to a post. The expression on her face had been one of complete satisfaction, maybe even blissful. I’d known that was what I wanted right then. The whole scenario.

Tied down so I couldn’t move, with someone else in control of what I did and felt. Even down to whether I moved or not. That had been so hot, when he’d tied me to the bed and told me not to move. I’d wanted to tell Mr. Dark I’d be his forever in that moment, but I knew it was stupid and had kept quiet. I’d kept still, as he told me to do.

A call came in on my Facebook messenger, and I answered it with a secret

smile. “Hi, Roxie.”

“How are you, baby?” Despite the fact that I was flying through the air, Roxie sounded as clear as a bell. I even heard the small laugh she gave as I groaned.