David and Lacy’s: First date, Text Session

I’m so excited to have my new website! I love it! So what I decided to do was celebrate the occasion by giving away a free serial read. The way this is going to work is simple. I’m going to publish David and Lacy’s first half dozen or so dates, one a week until release day! For those of you who are familiar with this couple they were left in the middle of a very heated – and by that I mean – a saw, a broken down door and a chastity belt – situation. 0_o It’s right at this point that the first chapter of Requested opens. *leans in to whisper* It was one of the hardest scenes I had to write, but I think it was my best ever…but um, you guys can decide that for yourselves if you pick this one up to read. So *looks around* where was I? Oh, right, David and Lacy’s dates. Here’s the deal. A lot happened between them prior to the chastity belt/saw debacle so I thought while I’m making this one all clean and shiny and attempting to nail another deadline, I’d write the ‘dates’ that David ‘ropes’ Lacy into going on with him. As Lacy laments at one point, “He’s smart and sex.” Not a good combination when you’re looking for an out. Did I mention that David is the Dom that has trained other Doms? No? Well he is so he knows every…well, I don’t want to spoil anything, so let’s just say, he knows a lot of stuff and he knows how to use all of it. Poor Lacy.

 

Story One prior to Requested Surrender

The First Date

Lacy Pembrook stared across the candlelit table, into the nicest hazel eyes she’d happily drown in, and lied. “I’m worried that if we give this a try, as you’ve suggested, we’ll blow our chances at a friendship and then where would we be when the gang wants to get together?”

David Hollan inclined his head even as his gaze pinned her. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

Hm. Even though those words were more a statement than a question she chose to answer it by continuing to fib. “Absolutely. You seem like a really nice guy,” nice was understating what he seemed to be. Interesting, deep, mysterious and fuckalishous were all descriptions that came to mind, but she kept those to herself, “I just think this is a case of better safe than sorry.”

“And I think,” Uh oh, he was leaning forward and bracing his arms on the table, turning that piece of furniture that had acted as the perfect buffer between them into an open-air stage. At least that’s what it felt like, “sometimes when you’re sorry, it’s better than being safe.”

Okay, screw the fact that he was currently crowding her and making her nervous. She ignored the sensation. “How is that even possible?  Ask anyone and they’d agree that being safe beats being sorry every time.”

“Not everyone.”

She tilted her head and hiked a brow at him. She was sure any second he’d say he was only kidding, but he didn’t.

“Not even you, providing that you were with me.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

That word skated over her causing tiny tingles to fall like a line of dominoes tumbling down her spine as another pat phrase came to her. Curiosity killed the cat. It killed. The cat. Don’t ask. Don’t…ugh. “I think I’ll need you to explain that one to me.”

“All right.” He took his time pushing his plate aside, moving the flickering candles to the left and folding his napkin neatly before he tucked it under the edge of his dish. “Tell me. What would you have to have done in order to be sorry?”

She shrugged. Unless this was a trick question, it was a no brainer. “Something wrong.”

“Exactly.” He stared at her.

She stared back. “And?”

“How can you learn and grow without making mistakes? In fact,” he put his large, warm hand over hers and squeezed, “if you played it safe all the time wouldn’t you get to the end of your life and be sorry looking back?”

And there it was. The very reason she didn’t—no, scratch that— she wouldn’t get involved with a man like him. He was dangerous on every level. “I feel like you’re overthinking the phrase.”

His hand tightened. Not too much, but enough for her to notice. “And I feel like you’re under-thinking it.”

She gently pulled away from his grasp and picked up her wine glass. What did she have to worry about? This was a harmless dinner. No more than that. She needed to relax. She was free to enjoy herself. Yeah, she needed to lighten up. “I thought a Dom like you would want his submissive to be good and obedient all the time.”

“I do.” He leaned back and splayed his hands on the table. The action made him appear bigger and more in control than before. Although how such a thing was possible, she had no idea.

“See, safe is good and good is what you’re after.” She waved her glass, dismissing him, before she took a sip of her delicious pinot noire.

“I see,” he slapped the table in a catchy ratta-ta-tat beat and then abruptly stopped, “but the question is, do you?”

His eyes drilled into her. Their probing heat almost caused her to choke on the wine that slid down her throat like a wave of sand. Carefully, she put her glass down and wished with all her might she hadn’t ordered the bouillabaisse. She knew from experience that dish would take a good twenty more minutes to arrive. Relax. There’s nothing between you, remember?

“Look, David, I’m not Colin and I’m certainly not Jo. In fact, not that I like to share this tidbit about myself a lot,” she bent forward and whispered, “but I was slave once and it didn’t work out well for anyone but the guy who collared me.”

He laughed. The fucking guy laughed and, when he did, she wanted to laugh too. She didn’t know why. Here she was sharing an intimate detail about herself and he thought it was funny? “Why are you laughing?”

“You’re funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

He did a double-take which was worse than if he’d laughed again. “I’m sorry it’s just if you truly understood the concept, I highly doubt you’d call your former Master ‘that guy’.”

“You’re right,” she sniffed. “I was being nice. I usually call him Fuckwad.”

Silence. Not the good kind either. This was the kind that landed around you with foreboding. If you’d written this in a book it would be called foreshadowing. And the way he looked at her? Lethal. Brutal. “I was kidding that time.” Not really, but his silent censure was freaking her out.

“I’m glad.”

There was too much thinking involved when she spent time with him. That was the problem. Picking up her wine she took a big gulp, looked away and then looked back. The guy hadn’t moved a muscle.  Not one. He just remained invested, interested and watchful. Damn. “I suppose if we were to have a trial run and see where something like this goes, you’d have a whole pile of rules.”

 

David leaned back and relaxed. She was finally coming around to his way of thinking. “Not especially.”

“Really? But I thought…I…”

“Let me guess. You thought I’d be ordering you around and making you do things while you were naked.”

“No. Actually I thought I’d fall under your spell and get naked and do all kinds of things as I’d anticipate your every need.”

That sealed the deal. She would be his. “Interesting.”

“Yeah?” she plucked up her glass and licked the rim before she took a sip. The provocative action got him surprisingly juiced. “And here I was thinking that something like that would be boring to a guy like you.”

She was fishing here. He didn’t know why but he’d let her reel him in until he caught sight of the bait. “Could be. So what did you have in mind?”

The waiter brought their salads just then and David thanked him, but never took his eyes off her. “Well?” he prompted.

“One date night like this a week for eight weeks so we can get to know one another better. To see if something like this will work for us.”

He was willing to negotiate, but hardball was the only game he played. So, with that in mind he was going to tell her flat out no. He wasn’t going to wait eight weeks to get his hands on her. But then he saw the gleam of triumph in her eyes before she could mask it and he knew. She expected this to fail. She wanted him to say no.

He tamped down the rush of adrenaline surging through him with the thrill of the hunt and said, “Great idea.”

“Yeah, I know you’re probably disappointed—wait, what? You think so?”

“Sure,” he pointed to her salad and asked, “Would you like some bread with that?”

“No I—”

“There are pine nuts in there. Not sunflower.” He chewed a mouthful of greens and swallowed. “Now, I think you’re onto something here.  We need to go slow, but…”

“Yes?”

He loved how her eyes widened and her cheeks filled with color. The pinkish flush made those round eyes of hers sparkle like sapphires in the sun. “They’ll be unlimited texting in between those eight dates. There has to be, don’t you agree?”

She downed her wine. Poor thing. Clearly she didn’t have a plan for the direction this conversation had taken. “No I don’t agree. That sounds like a bad idea. Suppose I’m working or visiting with friends. Unlimited sounds kind of creepy to me.”

“Eat your salad.” He spoke softly hoping to put her at ease, “It’s not as if I’m going to stalk you or anything. I may want to send you a text to say good morning and then one the same day saying good night. What’s wrong with that? If I’m forced to limit the amount of texts I send, I might not be able to say what I want, when I want to you.”

She looked like this was killing her to admit, but he gave her credit when she grudgingly managed, “All right that doesn’t sound too unreasonable.”

“Exactly. So it’s a deal?”

The way her tongue moved around in her closed mouth as she eyed him, it was as if she were cleaning her teeth with it. Then her lips parted with a smack-like kissing sound and she nodded, “Deal.”

“Perfect.” He looked down and stacked his fork with a cherry tomato, cucumber and crouton. “Then there’s only one thing left to discuss. Exclusivity.”

“For me or for you?”

He finished chewing before he swallowed. Desperately trying not to cough. “Excuse me?”

“What?” She popped a cherry tomato into her mouth and bit down with a satisfied sigh. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full.”

“O-hay.”

It was his turn to sigh, but not with delight when he’d heard her push out that “okay” response around the tomato she was eating. “And to answer your question, it applies to both of us,” he said, as he put his fork down and waited.

“All right. But when you say exclusivity, does that apply to an impromptu cybersex session? Say if I just stumble upon a random stranger in a chat room and I wanted to experience the thrill of sex with them without the danger. I mean, I could just do it and you’d never know because you’re not a computer whiz who can go forensic on a hard drive, are you? Only asking because I’d like to get the rules down so I know.”

He found himself once again mimicking one of her earlier actions when his tongue, behind closed lips, slid over each tooth while he counted to ten. It had been a long, long time since he’d had to count higher than three when he was with a woman. And here he was, not with just any woman, but a woman he was deeply attracted to. Fuck. He reminded himself that she was purposely trying to get under his skin. What was she so afraid of?

“Although it’s admirable you want to get the rules down, it’s pointless if you’re going to break them.”

“Enough said. That pretty much answered my question anyways.”

Oh yeah. She was definitely trying to rattle his chain. He grinned and shook his head, “You got guts. I’ll give you that.”

“Why?” Her eyes danced. “Because I’m not letting you intimidate me?”

“I’m not trying to intimidate you. So, no. I think you’ve got guts because you’ve taken the first big step in our ‘trial relationship’ without me having to say a word. That takes courage and I admire you for it.”

“I did? You do?” She leaned forward and frowned. “What did I say?”

“You like the thrill of sex without the danger. I’ll be your random stranger. We can have sessions via texts. We’ll be sexting.”

She snapped straight up and blinked. “No we won’t. How can you be a random stranger when I know who you are? It’s not possible besides…it’s…it’s…”

He reached across the table and patted her hand. “Exactly what you wanted and the best part? You won’t be breaking any rules.”

The waiter arrived right then with their dinner. The way that Lacy studied her food after the server put it down in front of her would make you think she’d never seen clean-the-kitchen soup before. Once they were alone David asked, “Is everything all right with the order?”

“No.” She looked up and he spied the worry in her eyes. “I don’t like it one bit.”

He knew what she was referring to but he pretended he didn’t. “Should I call the waiter back so we can change it then?”

“Change what?”

He indicated to her bowl. “Your order.”

“Oh. Oh! No I’m good with this. It smells yummy. What I’m not good with—”

“Would you like some more wine?”

She nodded and then picked up her spoon. “As I was saying, what I’m not good with is this whole sexting thing.”

He was careful to turn the bottle so the wine wouldn’t drip on the table cloth. Putting the pinot down, he sat back. “What are you good with? Having cybersex with random strangers?”

Her mouth dropped open and she looked to the right as if some other patron in the restaurant was going to come to her aide. No one did, so he waited until she snapped her mouth shut and turned back to glare at him. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

He grinned. “Try marched.”

Just as he’d hoped all the tension went out of her and she shook her head. “I was only kidding about that, by the way.”

“Well, I wasn’t.” He commandeered her attention and didn’t let go. Then before she got around to denying the idea, he pushed to sell it. “Trust me, I’ll make sexting fun.”

The air was electric between them. Charged with an energy that was almost palpable as she searched his face for several moments. Then like a puff of smoke colliding with the wind, one instant the tension was swirling, and the next it was gone. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He waited until she looked down at her dish before he whispered, “You’ve agreed to date a guy like me and that’s all you’re afraid of?”

When her head snapped up he winked and enjoyed watching her squirm. He was nowhere near to figuring her out yet, but he had learned one thing. Lacy Pembrook rarely ever squirmed. That was going to change now that he was in her future.

“Bread?”

She may have shaken her head, but she reached for a piece anyway. A second later he was positive she didn’t even know she was chewing on it as she was probably too busy chewing on what she’d inadvertently gotten herself into. Eight dates and unlimited sexting. Damn, this couldn’t have turned out better for him if he’d planned it.

 

 

Their Second Encounter

1 hour and 12 minutes after David and Lacy’s first date ended.

A text session.

Buzz

Lacy’s eyes snapped opened and she frowned. It had to be midnight. Who’d be sending her a text at this hour?

David.

“Oh brother.” Suddenly visions of him texting her morning, noon and night telling her to do all kinds of nasty things came to mind. She never should have agreed to this, but then, had she really agreed or had he backed her into a corner with no way out?

Snatching up her phone she took a deep breath and read.

Hi.

Hm, not what she’d been expecting.

Hello.

Are you in bed?

She rolled her eyes. Here came the sexy.

Yes.

Do you like football?

She frowned and thought for a millisecond before she replied.

No. Well, sort of, but only if the game is close and there’s less than 4 minutes on the clock.

She sent that and expected him to vehemently defend that All-American pastime but was surprised again when she got back.

Baseball?

Okay, was he planning on taking her to game or something?

Sort of. Providing it’s the last inning and the teams are tied.

What about golf?

She shook her head and felt like texting, “what about you telling me what this is all about?” instead she answered.

No.

What about pudding? Do you like pudding?

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. This conversation was so bizarre — actually intriguing— that she sat up and scooted back against the headboard, dragging the warm duvet cover with her.

Yes. Love it.

Cheesecake?

Not especially.

What about leather? Do you like the feel of leather?

A hot sizzle went through her. Landing between her legs with a heady zap. She pushed aside the duvet and blew out a breath. When that didn’t work to cool her off she fanned herself while she thought about a reply. Grinning ear-to-ear the moment the perfect one came to her.

Better than cheesecake.

That should make him have to think.

As much a pudding?

Dammit. Before she could formulate an answer her phone buzzed again.

What about flowers? Do you favor roses?

With relief she quickly typed.

No.

Lillies?

Nope.

Violets?

Not my fav.

What about silk? Do you like the feel of silk pressed against your eyes?

Her heart skipped a beat. Was this a sneaky way of saying blindfold?

Silk is nice, but I prefer to feel it—

She squeezed her eyes shut and worked up the courage to type the rest. David was playing with her here and she needed to get into the game. Admittedly, he was far better at this than she was, but maybe her inexperience would ruffle his calm-Dom-feathers some.

“Fuck it.” She opened her eyes and punched out the last of her reply.

—between my legs.

Her heart pounded as she stared down at the small screen. Seconds ticked by. Silence. Nothing. A full minute had passed. She knew because she was watching the clock on her phone. Should she send something else?

Lilacs?

She blinked and then realized he was picking up where they left off on the flower topic. Clearly he had no feathers to ruffle. If that’s the way he wanted to play it.

No, and you’ll like never guess.

Want me to try?

She pulled the duvet up and snuggled into it.

Sure.

Daisies.

Her mouth dropped open before she pressed her lips together. How had he…?

How did you know that?

Secret. Do you know what daisies represent?

She stuffed her hair behind her ears and quickly returned.

No and tell me the secret.

Would it make you happy if I told you the secret?

Yes.

She expected him to say that Colin or Jo had told him. Or that he scoured the internet doing research on her. Although she wasn’t sure if she’d ever mentioned that fact about herself. She could have though. Maybe on twitter? He had no right to spy on her.

Your earrings.

It took her a moment but then she remembered. She’d worn her silver daisy earrings to dinner.

Oh.

Innocence.

What about it?

That’s what a daisy represents.

Wow, that was so not her. She was just about to type that and then thought better of it and adjusted.

I like that. What kind of flowers do you like?

 

 

David sank back in his leather chair and grinned. Finally she was engaged in the conversation.

Gladiolas.

Nice. What do they represent?

Strength of character.

Right on the money there.

He shook his head when he saw she’d punctuated that sentence with a silly winking smiley face. He sat forward. Time to shake things up a little.

What about steel. Do you like the cold, hard bite of it against your skin?

An image of her stretched out naked on his bed with her arms up over her head and her wrists firmly locked to his headboard in a pair of shiny manacles, stroked him. He was just envisioning how he’d position her legs when his phone vibrated.

I’m not sure I should answer that.

So not an option.

You have to.

Is that a rule?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes? Man she had guts. He readjusted in his seat. He’d been semi-hard imagining her cuffed to his bed but now that he knew she’d like it, his cock turned to stone. Digging into his thigh. Straining against the zipper of his pants. He ignored the discomfort and typed.

Do you like charades?

Not especially.

He nodded.

What about solitaire?

Love it.

What are you wearing?

A black-lace teddy with matching thong.

He laughed. She was a deceitful little brat when she wanted to be. There was no way in hell she slept in sexy lingerie every night of the week, if at all.

Are you sure?

Of course. *gasp* What kind of question is that?

He sighed because once again she’d included a silly face. Only this one had crossed eyes and its tongue hanging out of its mouth. He thought about calling her on it but then decided not to press her as he knew the motivating factor behind her fib. Him. Or rather her trying to impress him.

Tomorrow I want you to wear something I send you. Will you?

What is it?

It’s black.

I’m waiting…

He narrowed his eyes and replied.

So am I.

Yes.

He smiled at that then sent.

You’ll see.

Not fair.

I know.

He was just about to type good night when his phone shook in his palm.

David?

He didn’t know why he was holding his breath.

Yes?

I’m not sure we should be doing this. I’m worried.

He sighed and released the pent up air in his lungs in a rush. Now was not the time to ask her what she was worried about. If he did, he was sure she’d feed him the same bullshit excuse she’d given him at dinner. About how they might screw up being friends when they’d be expected to frequently get together with “the gang”. That’s not what she was worried about. Deep down he knew it, but question was, did she?

I’m sure and don’t worry. It’s going to be fun, remember?

That’s what I’m afraid of…

This time the silly face she included with those words was sideways and sported an inverted “V” bracket over the eyes. He shook his head and typed.

You’ve agreed to wear what I send you tomorrow and us ‘having fun’ is all you’re afraid of?

Crazy, huh?

He rubbed his thumb over those words as he thought about them and her. He’d been right. There was something special about her. Too bad she didn’t know it.

Crazy? No, smart. Now get some sleep.

K.

No sooner had he put his phone down then it vibrated again and he picked it back up.

David?

Yes?

I’m really wearing my oversized whiskers and paws t-shirt from the last fundraiser I attended.

With her admitting that truth an unaccountable pleasure stole through him, but so did something else.

That’s all you’re wearing?

I swear. That’s it.

An image of her in just a shirt. Nothing else under it but skin. All naked and warm. Silky and—

Oh, my bad. I do have a thong on too.

When he saw the brightly smiling face that accompanied those words his eyes narrowed and he altered his earlier assessment of her. She was special all right. A special brat. No wonder he wanted her with a passion that kept him up at nights.

Tomorrow when my package arrives call me before you open it.

Why?

You’ll see. Go to sleep now. Good night.

He stood and stuffed his phone in his pocket as he thought about how she’d react to his gift. He wasn’t usually heavy handed when it came to relationships. Not his kind of relationships at any rate. Normally he took his time and savored the getting to know one another part of a courtship to deepen trust, but with her he’d have to be different. He’d have to make concessions and so would she. At least until he had a better handle on her. She needed someone to unlock her and he had every intention on being that magic key.

His phone rocked on the desk and he stared down at it, noticing that the lit screen highlighted a sad face. Reaching out, he traced an index finger over the image. Wondering, and not for the first time, why she was freely expressive when there were phones and distance between them and yet, face to face, she was as sober as a little judge.

He ran a hand through his hair and decided one thing. Lacy Pembrook had a story and if he got his way, he was going to make sure it became an epic.