Chapter Nineteen

She stood outside his door, an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach as she ran a hand down the leg of her shorts. Sandy and she talked for two hours at Denny’s last night, munching bacon, sipping coffee, and giggling over Mitch Greenway. Karla actually giggled. Sandy just kept repeating over and over how surprised she was that someone actually snagged Karla Harper’s attention in more than just a passing fashion. Or at least, without having something Karla wanted. Sandy was quite aware of Karla’s viewpoint on men and relationships. The fact that Karla even contemplated surrendering her control boggled Sandy’s mind.

“I won’t lie to you,” Sandy said. “I hung around because I just knew you would give him the brush off. He’s not happy being in the passenger seat of a relationship. He steers, and I just never saw you taking your hands off the wheel long enough to see where he’d take you.”

“To be honest, it surprised me, too. I’ve never been jealous before. I didn’t like it.”

Sandy gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, it’s not like we haven’t shared men before. Your reaction threw me for a loop.” She shrugged, holding her coffee cup in front of her with both hands. “Still, I suppose that only shows the effect he’s having on you. Maybe he’s that elusive one you didn’t even know you were waiting for.”

“Everything he’s offering… It’s kind of scary.”

“And yet, hot as hell.” Sandy winked at her. “I think it’s exactly what you need and want. Stop fighting him and embrace it.”

Karla sighed. Could she relax enough to do as Sandy suggested?

By the time Karla finally slid between her sheets, her naked body chilled, Mitch was in complete control of her thoughts. She couldn’t even force her mind in another direction. Images of Mitch consumed her, his hands on her body, his lips against her skin, his spanking of her ass. It made for an extremely restless night.

And now she stood in front of his door, waiting. For what exactly, she wasn’t sure, and that made her both excited and nervous as hell. What could she expect from him?

Only one way to find out. With a tremulous hand, she knocked on his door. Taking a deep breath, she continued to wait. It wasn’t long before Mitch opened the door, smiling at her, even though his brows were bunched in confusion. “Well, hello there,” he said, leaning on the doorframe wearing only a pair of gray pajama pants, which hung low on his hips. He sipped from a white ceramic coffee mug as he stood there. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Well, to be honest, I’m surprised myself,” she said, wrapping her arms behind her, her hands clasped tight together. “I thought I owed you an apology for the other morning. Sandy and I talked last night, and, well, I sorta, kinda didn’t really have a good reason for my behavior. We weren’t really a couple when you two were…being intimate. I had no hold on you.”

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Are you saying you want us to have a hold on each other now?”

“I think we both know the answer to that, as much as it pains me to say it.”

He just grinned at her as he sipped his coffee again. Pulling the cup from his mouth, he licked his lips, the glide of his tongue starting a throbbing in her pussy, his gaze riveted to hers. “Would you like to come inside?”

She nodded, the churning in her stomach starting again.

He stepped to the side, gesturing for her to enter. She walked past him, the sudden feeling that everything just changed tingling over her. It was almost as if she just crossed over a line by stepping over his threshold. She only hoped she wouldn’t regret it.

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” she asked, as she stepped into his living room.

“Only my morning coffee,” he said, as he walked past her toward the kitchen. “Can I get you a cup?”

“Please,” she said. “Not working today?”

He glanced over his shoulder, grinning at her. “Lloyd is running the shop today.” He shrugged. “Not much there to work on and I needed a day to relax.”

“Am I interrupting your relaxation?”

His grin grew. “You could always be a part of my relaxation.” He pulled a cup from the cupboard and filled it with coffee. Sliding it in front of her, he asked, “Need creamer or sugar?”

“No, this is fine.” She took the cup from him and held it to her face, allowing the steam to caress her cheeks and nose.

He leaned back on the counter, one hand holding him up, while the other held his coffee. “So, all forgiven?”

She sipped the coffee before nodding. “Yeah, I was being silly.”

“Maybe you need another spanking.” He grinned at her, then sipped his coffee again.

The thought of his hand on her bare ass, spanking her for her behavior, sent warm tendrils throughout her body. She found herself wanting to break his rules just to experience it again. She bit her lower lip, her eyebrows popping upward, as she just stared at him.

He took her silence to mean exactly what she hoped he would, that she wanted it. He grinned as he turned toward the cabinet beside the stove. “My pancakes are probably not up to par with Brad’s, but I do make a killer omelet. Have you eaten?”

“That’s what you want to do now? Eat?” She knew her voice held the disappointment she felt. There was no way to hide it.

“Well, yeah, actually, I do. Breakfast is important. Helps you build up your energy for other things. You want to do other things, right?”

She sighed. “I was hoping to do them now.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. “But you can wait until after breakfast.”

She growled as she slid onto a stool perched around the island in the middle of his kitchen. “You can be frustrating, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” He pulled out pots and pans and bowls and started preparing breakfast for them, whistling as he did.

Karla stared at his ass through his pajama pants as he bent in front of a shelf in the fridge to get the eggs. She really wanted to be devouring him right then, instead of waiting on an omelet. She saw no reason not to play first and eat later. Then they could fool around after breakfast as well. She had the whole morning to herself, so why not make the most of it?

Yet, Mitch kept cooking. Never before had a man kept himself from just bending her over and doing her the second he had the opening. It was almost insulting.

No, it was insulting.

Karla slid back off the stool, easing her way over to where Mitch stood by the counter, his back to her, breaking eggs into a bowl. Pressing against his back, she slid her hands down the front of his pants until she felt his cock in her fingers. “Are you sure you want to eat right now? I mean, we can screw around now, eat, then screw around some more. Wouldn’t that be more fun? You know, build up an appetite first.” She started stroking him, trying to coax his manhood to life.

He didn’t turn around, but rather broke another egg into the bowl. “Nope. Food first. I was already hungry before you got here. We can work it off afterward.”

Karla wanted to growl at his stubbornness. Instead, she turned up the heat. Pulling her hand out of his pants, she stepped beside him, tugging her shirt over her head as she did and dropping it on the counter. She quickly piled her bra, shorts, and thong on top of the shirt, and then stood naked beside him, one hand on the counter, the other on her hip. “But doesn’t this look like a much better breakfast than that omelet?”

He glanced over at her, his smile pushing up his cheeks. “It does look delicious, but it can be dessert.”

“But Mitch,” she stepped over to him, her hand returning to his crotch, “I want to make it up to you for my behavior the other morning.”

“Do you now? Well, that’s good to know. After breakfast.”

She started stroking him faster through his pants. “But we’re right here, and someone is stirring to life. I think…”

She never got to finish. He set the egg he was holding on the counter, grabbed her arm, and escorted her back to the stool. She was ready to be bent over, used, taken, but instead, he sat her down on the stool, reached into a nearby drawer where he found two electric skillet cords, and tied her wrists to the stool. Karla grew excited, her passion beginning to stir between her legs, making her squirm. She won and was about to get her prize.

Mitch kissed her forehead as he patted her thigh. “Now, be a good girl, and just sit there until breakfast is ready.”

“What?” she almost yelled. She pulled on the cords binding her to the stool, but there was no give to them. She was bound good and tight. “You can’t be serious.”

He chuckled as he picked up the last egg, cracking it on the side of the bowl, and dumping its contents in with the rest. “Oh. But I am. I said breakfast first.”

She growled. Loud.

He only chuckled.

He stayed true to his word and left her bound to the stool until breakfast was on the table. Once he had everything set the way he wanted it, including coffee and juice, he walked over to her, kissing her on the top of her head. “Now, are you ready to eat?” he asked as he started to untie her.

“Might as well be.”

Once free, she moved to retrieve her clothes, but he stopped her. “Oh no. You were eager to get rid of them; you can eat naked.” He grinned at her, noticing her gaze going to the open window by the breakfast table. “It’ll be a great view inside and out.”

She sighed as she made her way over to the table and sat down, the morning sun caressing her flesh through the window. They were on the third floor, so the odds of anyone really seeing her were slim, but still, it made her nervous—and wet—just thinking about it.

Mitch waited until she sat down, and then took the chair opposite hers. She had to admit, the food smelled and looked delicious, her stomach growling a bit as the aroma hit her senses. She was hungrier than she wanted to admit.

As he slid into his chair, he gestured for her to eat as he picked up his own fork. “So, anything in your conversation with Sandy I’d be interested to hear?”

She toyed with her eggs, thinking over his question. How much did she really want him to know about her insecurities and struggles? Or how much he got under her skin, for that matter?

She must have contemplated her answer longer than she thought, because he spoke next. “It’s all about trust and transparency. I want to know you. Not the you everyone else sees, everyone else gets. Not even the you that Aimee sees. Or Sandy. I want to know you, the deep down, scarred, timid, horny-as-hell you. I want to know things no one else would even guess about you.”

“Not asking for much are you?” She cut down into her omelet and stabbed it with her fork. “What makes you think there’s more to me than what you see? I’m pretty blunt about the way I see things.”

He finished swallowing the food in his mouth before he answered. “You’re pretty blunt about the way you want people to see you.” He shrugged. “I want under that mask, the no-makeup, bare naked Karla Harper. I’m not going to be satisfied with anything less.”

She laughed. “I never let people see me without makeup. Being naked is not a problem, however.”

“No makeup. No mask. Trust me. I don’t care how dark you think it is. I want to know it all. I want us to explore it all.”

She took a deep breath, shoveling food into her mouth afterward to stall for time. He didn’t know what he asked of her. He didn’t have a clue. No one did, because she knew no one could really handle it. She took another bite.

So did he, which irritated her. He was being patient, hoping to wait her out in order to get his answer. She didn’t want to give him an answer. She needed her secrets. They protected her.

He took a sip of his coffee as he glanced out the open window at the morning sun. “Beautiful morning.”

She followed his gaze, nodding her agreement.

Setting his cup back on the table, he glanced back at her. “You like sitting there, in front of the window, naked, the warmth of the sun kissing your flesh. You like being exposed. That became obvious Tuesday night.” He grinned. “To be honest, it turns me on as well, for you to be sitting there, bare to my eyes and touch. It doesn’t even matter that someone in the apartments across the parking lot could look over and see you sitting there naked.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers intertwined. “As a matter of fact, I’d venture to say it turns you on. You want them to see you.”

Karla squirmed in her seat, choosing not to say anything.

“Why are you afraid to admit that?”

She took another deep breath, his questions making her nervous, scared. She glanced out the window again. He was right, however. She did like it. Craved it, even.

He tilted his head. “You see it as wrong? You’re afraid of what others might think? What?”

She sighed. “All of the above.” Her voice was soft, her heart a staccato rhythm in her ears. She kept her gaze out the window as she gave a shake of her head. “You wouldn’t understand it. Or even like it. No one ever has or will. Some things just need to be kept private.”

He shifted in his chair. “Why do you presume to know what I will or won’t accept or even like. Hell, didn’t I take you out to a bar, purposefully dress you up like a tramp, and let other men grope you all night? I’ve already told you dark and twisted things turn me on, so why do you still hold back? Karla, I can take you wherever you want to go sexually, but I can’t if you won’t be honest and open up to me.”

Karla glanced down at her plate, taking a deep breath. He was right; he accepted everything so far, promising to fulfill each of her fantasies. If she was ever going to discover if someone could match her kinky side, she had to be truthful and open up. She took another deep breath. It was now or never, win or lose. Might as well get it over with and see where the chips fell. “In high school, when Reed showed up, I was excited that it was him. I would have given him anything that night, and instead, he gave me to his friend.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, not believing what she was about to admit. “However, as disappointed as I was that Reed didn’t want me right then, it turned me on that he gave me to his friend as a sex toy.” She turned back to Mitch, expecting to see disgust in his eyes. Instead, he just watched her, his face neutral. “How twisted is that? It turned me on that a guy I liked gave me to another so I could suck him off.”

“I don’t think it’s twisted at all. Everyone has different turn-ons, kinks, fetishes. Doesn’t make any of them better or worse than another.”

“Everything I did after that helped me to capture that feeling again. I want people to want me. I want people to use me. Touch me. Kiss me. Fuck me. I crave seeing the look on their faces when they get a glimpse of my body and I know their cocks are getting hard. It excites me that guys will do anything to get between my legs, and I love seeing how far it can go, how far they’ll go to play hide the pickle.”

Mitch nodded, sipping his coffee again, as if they were having a normal conversation, talking about the weather, and not how twisted she was in the mind. She went too far, she knew it, bared too much of herself to him. She knew he couldn’t handle it. Knew he was lying just like all the rest. She should have kept her mouth clamped shut. No one was as twisted as she was. She scooped up more of her omelet and shoved it into her mouth to keep herself from saying anything further, betraying herself even more.

He scooped up some more of his eggs, but before he put them in his mouth, he held the fork in front of him as he smiled at her. “By the way, Brad may be calling you soon. He stopped by the shop the other day wanting to talk about you and me. I told him to give you a call.”

And there it was—the brush off. He was already sending her packing. She felt the lump form in her throat as her stomach twisted.

“Just remember when you fuck him, though, that you’re mine.”