Pushing Limits (14 page)

One of many...That’s all I am. 
Gotta be with a face like
that.   Who does he think he’s kidding?
 

Looking him straight in the eye, I answer him definitively. 
“Five.” 

Fuck it, this is who I am.  Take it or leave it.

Studying my face, he contemplates for a minute.  Standing, he moves
around the tiny table, gingerly, considering me.  Circling behind me, he
bends to nuzzle my neck below my ear.  Bit by bit, pulling my turtleneck
away from my neck, he breathes softly, whispering, “So tense.  Let me see
if I can get you to relax.”  His tongue flutters over my nape. 
Biting me on my neck brings a shiver up my spine and an ache down below. 
Pressing a tiny kiss to my neck, he returns to his chair. 

“Your turn, darlin’.”  His eyes dance.

“Same question.  Have you ever been with a guy?”

“I had a guy come on to me once in a late night session in the studio,
but had to put the brakes on.  Not my thing.”  He smiles his best
is-that-all-you-got smile.

A little annoyed at his look, I consider how I can reward and punish him
at the same time.  Smiling with an evil grin, I glide over, sitting on the
table, provocatively parting my legs.  Motioning for him to give me his
hand, I kiss his finger, lazily sucking the end.  I move my mouth up and
down his index finger as I stare into his dark blue eyes.  Smiling a
devilish grin, I nip the pad lightly.  I stand and place his hand back in
his lap and walk back to my chair with a little extra wiggle in my walk.

“Darlin’, was that a punishment because that was a truthful answer.”

“No, that was your reward for an answer I already knew.”

“Then why did you ask it?”

“I wanted to know,” I say as I smirk at him.  “Stop whining,
darlin’
,
and play the game.”

“Ok, so we’re fightin’ dirty, are we?  Fine.”  He challenges
me.  “Tell me why you left Chicago.” 

“My mom sent me away.  It’s something I’m used to with her. 
I’ve been in boarding school since I was six.  She needed me to stand and
wave while she ran for office in Chicago so she let me come home.  The
minute she didn’t need me, she shipped me off to another school….this
one.”  I stare back at him with dead eyes.

“Am I going to have to punish you, darlin’?  Judging by the look on
your face, there’s a lot more to this story.”

“That’s it.  Sorry to disappoint.” 

“Ok.”  He looks at me, walking over, and kneels.  The heat from
his eyes has me worried.  His hand skims my stomach, moving softly to the
edge of my sweater.  Lowering his lips to my neck, he grazes sweet soft
kisses across my nape, as he edges his hand gradually up my sweater.  His
other hand splays on my back to hold me in place.  He reaches my nipple as
my pussy thumps for attention. 

His finger and thumb enclose the tip as he pinches it, twirling it,
moving away from my neck to watch my face.  His eyes are a dark blue as
his jaw clenches.  My breath hitches.  He releases me and walks back
to his chair.  His face is dark and his lips curl in a silent warning,
threatening a punishment I both fear and want. 

I stare at him, every nerve tingling.  My eyes narrow.  “Are
you serious?  Come back over here.”

“Tell me the whole story and I’ll consider it,” he says with a snide
leer.  “Oh, and you owe me a drink.  Not a sip.  Take a drink of
that beer, darlin’.”

I latch onto the beer, taking a huge swig, looking for some liquid courage. 
“Ok, she walked in on me with a guy and she was pissed.”  I shrug,
pointing my beer at him.  “And, she had been researching schools for a
while, I might add.”

“When was the election?  I’m assuming she won.”

“Yeah, she won.”  I scoff. 
When did she ever lose at
anything?
  “It was the November before last.”

“Well it’s January.  The election was about a year ago, why didn’t
she ship you out after she won?  Why wait a year?”  He asks his eyes
narrow.  “Do you want another punishment, or do you want to tell me the
whole damn story, Amber?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.  His
eyes turn ominous and dark.  “‘Cause, I can give you a good punishment,
darlin’.”   Resting his arms on the table, his face confirms his
words.  “It could last for quite some time.  Take you up, let you
fall back down, take you up, let you fall back again, never letting you
come.  Would you like to try that, darlin’?” He threatens. 
Or is
it a promise?    
His face hardens and he says, “Tell me.”

“I met the girl in the picture on my mom’s campaign.”  I snicker to
myself.  My eyes dart to him, realizing that was out loud.  Studying
the table, I straighten my back, clearing my throat.  “Uh, she worked in
the campaign office.  After my mom won, we hung out.  Actually it was
during the campaign when we started spending time together.  My mom didn’t
like it.  After she had enough, she shipped me off.”

“And, that is the whole story?” he asks. 

“Yeah, in a nutshell,” I falter.

“What happened to the girl, Amber?  One minute you’re with her, and
months later you’re with some guy in your room.”  His mouth curved in a
flippant smile.  “You owe me a drink, Amber Turner.  Get your ass up
and come over here.”

I stand pensively saying, “I don’t like this game.”

“Be honest and you’ll learn to love this game.  I like giving
rewards.” His mischievous grin almost sucks me into believing him.  “Now,
come over here and I’ll give you your punishment.  Better take your drink
now.  It’s going to be a while before you get another one.”  He pats
his lap.

“I am honest.  I hate liars. My mom’s a huge ass liar.”  My
eyes narrow and my voice sounds defensive, even to me.  “I do not lie.”

“No, you just tell half the story.”  His eyes are impassive as he
says, “You push people away with your dry wit and sarcasm so you never have to
let them get any closer.  You’ve built some mighty high walls. 
Shoot, I could almost see you building them when I look into your eyes. 
Those pretty blue eyes harden and your face turns to stone.  You’re not
fooling anyone, especially not me,” he says, patting his lap again. 
Lifting his eyes to me, his low voice tries to entice me.  “Tell me.”

“She died, ok?”  I blurt out, grasping the beer.  My knuckles
shine white against the brown bottle.  “She went into a convenience store
to get a coke and two guys came in, shot the clerk, shot her, and ran out the
back. Ok?  I was in the car, I saw the whole thing.  By the time I
ran in, she was bleeding out.  All I could do was hold her.”  I
instinctively rub my hands down my skirt.  “All that blood, Jesus, there
was so much
fucking
blood.  I dialed 9-1-1 and they told me an
ambulance was on the way.  I could hear sirens in the distance.”  My
voice doesn’t sound like my own as I plead, “I fucking begged her to stay with
me, to hold on.  Not to leave me.”  My voice cracks.  “She died
in my arms.”

He’s in front of me before I can move, reaching for me.  My hand
flies up as I yell, “Don’t touch me. “  I push his hands away.  “What
are you doing?  I don’t want you to touch me.”  I lean away in
horror.  “Are you happy now?  Are you?  The fucking gory
details, the juice, well, you got it.  You wanted to know.”

Rolling my eyes up, I say, “The media coverage was insane.  My mom
went into full spin mode.  The deputy mayor’s daughter in a convenience
store in the projects, involved in a shootout, one dead.”  The tears come
and I angrily try to swipe them away.  “The press was everywhere. 
All the questions, barked in my ears.  Surrounding me, so close, pushing
at me.  Asking who Angela was, what I was doing there, what was the nature
of our relationship?” 

My jaw clenches.  “My mother could have told them the truth, but
no-o-o-o.  She had to cover her own fucking, political ass.  Her PR
firm worked round the clock to spin it.”  I snort.  “They said I
didn’t see their faces.  The police accepted what my mother’s people told
them.  I was never asked to make a statement.  The police never found
them – insufficient evidence.”  The guilt stabs me in the gut. 
Churning, the bile reaches my throat.  I hold my hands over my stomach,
wishing it to stop spinning and turning.  

My teeth grind as I sneer.  “When I needed my mother, to help me, to
love me, she only thought of her fucking self.  I was just another problem
to solve.” 

I look at the table. 
It’s out.
  My voice is hollow and
soft.  “That’s what happened to the girl.  Her name was Angela and
she was my first love.  That’s who she was.  She was everything to
me…and she died.  Happy now?”  My tears stream down my face and the
pain stabs my heart.  Sniffing, I mumble, “Please go.” 

“No.”  Pulling his chair around the table, he sits. 

I look into his eyes and plead.  “Please go.  I want to be
alone.”

“No,” he says emphatically.  “If you don’t want me to hold you, to
touch you…that’s fine.  But, I’m not going anywhere, darlin’.  I’ll
wait here until you’re ready.”

My eyes graze the objects around me but I don’t see anything.  My
body feels like one massive wound, cut open, and bleeding.  Pain seeps
from every pore.  The tears come faster, working their way into
sobs.  The raw emotion burns through my skin.  My throat closes as I
can barely swallow all the sorrow, all the pain.  I sob uncontrollably,
holding myself in a tiny ball, rocking.  My face on my knees, the tears
flowing as they always do when I let go and allow myself to feel…again. 

I stay at the kitchen table crying like I did that first night.  The
night she died.  He sits in the chair, waiting.  Letting me get it
all out.  The anger, the guilt, the pain.   My body feels numb. 
I’m exhausted.  The sun is peeping through the curtains.  I hate him
for making me relive it, all for some stupid fucking game.  I’m tired of
holding the pain in my heart.  The guilt is crushing my soul.  I’m so
tired.  As if he can hear me, he stands, scooping me into his arms and
carries me to bed.  I barely feel him.  I barely feel anything. 
Setting me down in the bed, he covers us with the comforter and cradles me in
his arms. 

Gentle kisses alight upon my skin.  Sunshine warms my limbs, chasing
away my dreams. 
I smell coffee
.   I pry my eyes open,
and he’s still here.  His soft beard nuzzles my neck as he waves a café
mocha in front of my nose. 
This must be heaven.

Reality crashes back in.  “Why are you still here, Tommy?”  My
eyes narrow as my gaze settles on his indulgent face. 

He sighs, as if he must patiently explain something to a small
child.  “I told you I’m not leaving.  Drink your coffee.”

I take the coffee mug, sipping at it as I murmur, “Sweet nectar of the
Gods” as I start to come to life, rolling my eyes to the heavens.  The
bite of the brew explodes in my mouth, making me forever grateful for my dark
roast.   He’s opposite me, sitting in one of our chairs from the
kitchenette, sipping from a mug.  Glancing at him over my mug, I’m still
angry, but not as much as I was last night.  I consider talking to him,
but my inner brat has taken over so I merely sit and sip my coffee in cold
silence. 

He, on the other hand, is Mr. Chatty Kathy.  “I thought we could
ride out to Mt. Bonnell and head over to The County Line for some
barbeque.   I think you’ll like Mt. Bonnell.  It’s got a great
view of Lake Austin.  You like barbeque, don’t you?  You’ve probably
never had real barbeque.  This is Texas barbeque.  Nothing like
it.” 

I stare at this infuriating man, babbling on as if everything is fine,
planning our day.  His eyes sparkle and he strikes me as incredibly
kind.  But, my inner brat is still in control so I merely sneer at him and
sip again.  He notices my staring.

“I believe I owe you a reward, darlin’.”  Setting his mug down, he
reaches for mine and I yank it away.

“Don’t ever touch my coffee,” I say.  My eyes narrow as I think
about last night.  “Are you sure you don’t want to
talk
some
more?”  I look him up and down narrowing my eyes.  “I bet I can put
you in the hot seat.  Everybody has parts of them they keep hidden. 
Let’s see how you like it,” I snarl.

“Ok, but same rules,” he says, leaning back in his chair.  “Ask
away.”

I consider the most uncomfortable subjects I can think of and settle on
one.  “Have you ever been cheated on by someone?”

“Yes.”  He answers me with a look of full disclosure as if he is
giving me an answer as to whether it’s raining.

“Whole story, please,” I grunt out, taking another sip of my
coffee. 
How do you like it?  Sharing your stories, wallowing in
the hurt and fear, feeling it fresh like it happened yesterday.

His eyes drop and his voice quiets.  So quiet, I have to strain to
hear him.  “I was engaged to a girl in college. We
- ”
 

“-You were engaged?”  My eyes pop open.

“Yup.   We were planning the wedding.  The whole nine
yards, had the church, the flowers ordered, the tuxes.”  He rubs his hands
down his jeans, shifting his weight as he continues.  “About two months
before the big day, I walked in on her with another guy, my brother. 
Nearly tore our family apart.  Short story is they were married and
divorced while I went to Nashville.”

“Do you still love her?”

“In some ways, I’ll always love her.  She was my first love. 
But am I still
in love
with her?  For a time I thought I was, but
no, not now.”  He shakes his head and his eyes look weary.  “We’re
still friends, but I’m not in love with her.”

“Ok, I guess I owe you a reward.”  I lean in with a skeptical look and
peck him on the cheek.

“Ok, my turn.”  His eyes searching my face.  “Do you miss being
with women?”

“Do you think I missed men when I was with Angela?”  I ask,
incredulous, rolling my eyes.  “You don’t miss anything when you are with
someone that you love, that you want.  Why would I miss having something
if I was with what I thought was the coolest, sweetest, hottest person I could
ever imagine?“  I look at him with a brow lifted.  “Was that some
kind of
gimme
after last night?”

“No, actually.”  He smiles.

I snarl, “Ok, what’s my reward?”

He leans in giving me a soft, tender kiss.  “Your turn.”

“You’ve mentioned your dad but never your mom.”  Leaning back
against my pillow, I take a sip of coffee.  “What’s she like?”

“She’s alive and well and living out at the ranch.  She’s a real
sweetie.  Everyone loves her.  She’s a short shit like you. 
Brown hair and blue sparkling eyes.  She’s a spitfire and crazy about my
dad.  Two hopeless romantics, forever in love, my mom says.” 

“Ok, here’s your reward.”  I lean forward and begrudgingly give him
a quick kiss on the lips.  “Your turn.”

He stares into my eyes, thinking, and says, “You’ve never mentioned your
dad.  Why not?”

“Honestly, I barely know him,” I say flatly.  “He’s never home when
I’m there, and when he is, he fades to the background.  My mother engulfs
him.  Hell, she can suck all the air out of the room in a hot
minute.  The extent of his parenting skills is to say, ‘listen to your
mother.’  Where’s my reward?”

He leans in, his hands on my face, pulling me closer and kisses me with a
proper kiss.  I force myself to refrain from swooning since I am still
perturbed.

“Your turn,” I try for apathetic but it comes out mildly engaged.

“What did you love about Angela?”  He asks.  He actually looks
sincere like he wants to know, but I smell an opportunity to stick it to him,
and I have to take it. 

“I loved her smile.  She had a bright smile that could light up a
room.  Her hair was chocolate brown, long, with these long ringlets. 
Her skin was the prettiest creamy mocha and so soft.  Her eyes were
chocolate brown and when she looked at you, it felt like she could see right
through you.”  I smile looking at the floor.  “She had quite the
bullshit meter and she never took shit off anyone.  If you tried to get in
her face, she would get right back in yours.”  I shake my head with a
smile.  “She was kind, sweet, honest, and the most wonderful person I have
ever known.  She loved her family and they completely accepted her. 
She cared about her world, wanted to make it a better place.  She was
amazing.  Oh, and she was almost six foot.  Well, you can see that in
the picture, too.”  My mouth twists as I continue.  “Oh, and she had
a great rack.  Her body was fucking smoking.  She loved to run. 
She actually ran every chance she got.  Not an ounce of fat on her. 
Oh, and she was great in bed, too.”  My eyes challenge him, willing to
push out that male insecurity if I need to. 
If he’s going to leave, he
needs to leave now
.

“She sounds like someone you would love.”  His smile is sweet and
instead of the puffed-up response I expected, he’s not threatened at all. 
“I wish I had the chance to meet her.” 

Damn it, why did he have to be so fucking sweet?

He leans in to give me my reward, which is a kiss.  A molten-hot,
moan-in-your-mouth, wanna-fuck kiss.  He pulls away and I try miserably to
act like I don’t care.

His voice is husky this time, “Your turn.”

“Are you into BDSM?” I ask.

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he strokes his beard.  “Yes and
no.  I’ve played and I enjoy the scene.  But, am I looking for or
have I ever had a slave/master relationship?  No.”  He shakes his
head.  “I like being in charge.  Not all the time, but most.  I
enjoy learning what your body wants to tell me.  Learning to please you
and pushing your limits.”  His eyes darken to a deep blue as his teeth
graze his lower lip.  “I love seeing you come, but sometimes I have to get
you out of your head first.  That’s easier when I take away all your
control.  Do I want you to obey me?  In some things, yes.  In
others, no.  It’s something two people discuss and discover
together.”  As he studies my face, he asks, “Does that scare you?”

“No.  I mean I’ve never done anything like what we did the other
night.  The whole being tied up was exciting.  And the red marks I
had the next day, well, they were kinda hot.  I liked looking at
them.”  I look down at my hands, my stomach is in knots. 
“But…”  I look at him as my curiosity forces my question from lips. 
“Are you going to want to eventually beat the shit out of me or
something?”  My eyes widening, afraid of what his answer will be.

“No, Darlin’.  I’m not a sadist.”   His dimples come out
to play as he flashes me a smile.  “That was two questions, but I’ll let
that pass.  Where’s my reward?”

Leaning in, I kiss him thoroughly this time.  I concentrate on the
softness of his lips, the tickle of his beard.  I give him a sweet,
thorough kiss, pure and simple.  No bells and whistles.

“Ok, my turn.  What’s your dream?”  His grin is almost boyish
as he waits for my answer.

“My dream?  I want to work in music as a producer.  Earn enough
to be financially independent so I could tell my mother to take her money and
shove it up her ass.  I want a nice house that I decorate myself exactly
how I want it.  It doesn’t have to be big, just mine.   Killer
bike, that’s a must.  Friends I love, roots, a home I can count on. 
Someone to love, who accepts me for who I am, every part of me, and still loves
me.  I don’t need a lot of money, simply enough to live and do what I
love.  Honest and loyal people who I can count on if I need them. 
Gotta have that.”  I stare unashamed at him.  “It’s all I want.” I
shrug.  “What’s your dream?”

He smiles another boyish grin saying, “Pretty much the same.  Now
come over here and get your reward, darlin’.”

I smile as I lean in, and he captures me in his arms.  My reward
came by way of two orgasms, a boyishly sweet smile, and a “thank you for
sharing all that with me.”

***

Watching him get ready was kinda fun.  After I gave him his reward,
that is.  It was cool: Towel drying his curly hair, not giving a fuck
about product or styling it, sliding his jeans over his long muscular legs,
pulling a t-shirt over his chiseled chest, his easy smile when he sees me
staring.  

After I’m done ogling him, I scoot off the bed to throw on a t-shirt and
jeans.  I finger dry my hair, slap on some mascara and I’m good to
go.  Walking out to my bed, he sits back against the wall, studying his
phone, his legs hanging over the side.  I ask, “Ready?”

“Yeah, Dad sent me a text.  The first calf is coming later tonight
or tomorrow.”

“And that means…”  I ask, wedging my body under his arm and
snuggling in.

Chuckling, he says, “I forgot you’re not from here.  Calving season
is about to start.  We breed the cows within the same timeframe so they
will mature around the same time, and we can reduce labor costs and go to
market once instead of year round.  It’ll get pretty busy for a while.”

“Sounds like I won’t be seeing you as much.”  My eyes study his
chest. 

“Not a lot, darlin’.”  He kisses my forehead.  Pulling me
completely into his arms, he moves a wisp of hair out of my eyes.  “I was
hoping we would have more time together before the first calf was born. 
We’ll have to make the most of today.” 

“When will I see you?”

“Hard to say.  Dad breeds for a sixty-five to a seventy day
cycle.  I might be able to get away here and there once the birthing
starts, but it will off and on.  I won’t be able to give you any
notice.  A quick call to say I’m coming into town will be about it.”

My head rests on his chest.  “We’re only getting started.  This
sucks.”

“Yeah, it sure does,” he says as he holds me.  We stay for a while,
holding each other.  “Let’s go.  I’m tempted to spend the day seeing
how fast I can get you to come using only my mouth on your nipples, but sadly,
a man needs food.  I can’t wait to see your face when you try it. 
You do like barbeque, don’t you?”  The boyish grin appears, complete with
dimples. 

I love it when he gets so excited.

“You’re kidding, right?  I love barbeque.  I don’t know
anything about Texas barbeque, but I love southern barbeque.  Chicago has
tons of b-cue joints.”

“Really?  What kind of sauce do you like?”

“We have sweet sauce.”

“Oh Darlin’.  I am so sorry.  Sweet sauce is for
amateurs.”   Enclosing his huge hand around mine, he walks to the
door, “You better grab a jacket and some shades.  It gets kinda nippy on
the bike.”

Pulling my jacket from the closet, I say, “What’s Texas sauce like?”

“I’ll show you.”  He pulls me into his arms, kissing my lips. 
“Let’s go.”

As we walk out the door and make our way down the hall, Jerrod is
stepping out of Karen’s door and into the hall.  Wearing the same clothes
as last night, he smiles sheepishly, “Hi Amber.” 

Yeah.  Busted.

“Hey Jerrod.” I smile with a tiny wave. 

Karen opens the door, with a huge grin and properly just-fucked
hair.  “Jerrod, I didn’t get my-”    Looking completely
mortified when she sees Tommy and I standing in the hall, she closes her robe
and falters, “Uh, hey, Amber.”

“Hey Karen.”  Smiling, I turn to Tommy saying, “I forgot my
shades.”  Tommy follows me back to my room, and I stand, waiting.

“What are you doin’, darlin’?”  He tilts his head to look at
me.  “I thought you needed your shades.”

Patting my pocket, I say, “Nope, got ‘em right here.  I’m giving
them a minute to say goodbye without an audience.”  I circle my arms
around his neck and say, “Wanna make-out for a few?”

“Darlin’, I could spend the day kissin’ you.”

We take our time
macking
on each other for more
than a few minutes, and I say, “Ok, let’s go.”

“Give it a sec,” he says in a low raspy voice.

“What?” I ask looking up at him.  “Give what a sec?”

“Wood, darlin’,” he says, smiling down at me.

“Wood?” I ask. 
What the hell is he talking about?
  The
light bulb goes on, and I look down, admiring a formidable erection.