The First Package

Lacy bent and put a hand on the sizable box in her front hall, tapping her index finger against the sky-blue ribbon. “What could it be?”

It wasn’t big enough to be a Sybian and it was too big to be a vibrator. Wait, why did she automatically assume it was something sexual? Maybe it wasn’t. Yeah right. There was about as much chance of that happening as there was her dying in an asteroid apocalypse set off by a rogue pack of earth hating zombies.

She pressed the side of her foot to the box and pushed it toward her living room. She fully expected it to slide over the tile and was completely caught off guard when it tumbled instead.

“Hey, sorry about that. I meant to tell you it’s feather-light.”

Lacy nodded at her contractor, trying not to get aggravated. She’d given him a key to her place so he could come by and take some measurements not answer the door.

“Did you say you wanted this tile replaced?”

“Yes. I want the larger ones. I think they’re twenty inches.”

“Eighteen probably.”

Lacy gritted her teeth as she picked up the box. Ever since Joe had agreed to do her home remodel he’d been getting on her nerves. Correcting her over silly things and making suggestions about products she didn’t want. Deep down she knew that the shine she’d initially taken to him when he was doing her clinic build-out had dulled completely the moment she met David, so it really wasn’t Joe’s fault that he was aggravating her.

She picked up the box and gently shook it.

“You break anything?”

“I don’t think so.” She headed to her bedroom and stopped when she got to the door. “Oh, Joe, before you go I have paint and flooring samples in the garage.”

He smiled and popped his brows at her. “You sure you don’t want to fool around a little? You used to like—”

“No,” she cut him off before he reminded her. They’d had one night together, months ago when they’d almost hooked-up. She never should have let him persuade her into getting in the hot tub that night following a butt-load of tequila shots. After that there were a couple of times he’d talked her into messing around, but not once after she’d met David. This was the problem. Previously she’d gotten around Joe and his cheap-cutting-the-corners way by giving into him. Now she’d couldn’t do that, and being that he had one third of his construction fee upfront she couldn’t afford to fire him. “Please bring the samples with you and see how close of a match you can get.”

“Is that them?”

He pointed to the corner of the living room where she’d painted a swatch of the color she wanted on the walls and had left the extra twenty inch tile sample she’d bought, below it. “Yes.”

“I think you need to go darker on the paint, and the flooring is too light.”

Lacy swallowed her irritation and opened her bedroom door. Over her shoulder she said, “I have an important call to make. Will you be able to see your way out when you’re done?” He dragged his hand through his hair and she knew what that meant. He was nervous. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m not sure my suppliers will have that floor sample.”

She adjusted the box under her arm and waved him off. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. It doesn’t have to be exact, but please, please, get it as close as possible. Deal?”

“Deal.”

She didn’t wait for him to flash his I-won-again grins— even that handsome gesture was wearing thin on her, and went into her bedroom. Closing the door with a sigh of relief, she kicked off her shoes and put the box down on the dresser. One tug and the ribbon wilted right off the cardboard. She lifted the lid and looked down. Frowning when she spied the yellow Post-It Note on the top of another blue ribbon tied box. On the scrap of paper there was one handwritten line:

Did you forget to call me first?

She recalled David’s previous request and blushed. Although why she got flustered was a mystery as David would never know about the slip-up. He certainly seemed to know everything else though. She eyed the pool of ribbon and shook her head. Taking the half opened box to the bed, she took her phone out of her pocket and sat down.

Hi, it’s me. I have the box.

Did you open it?

No. You told me to call you first, so I am.

Very good. Untie the ribbon.

Done.

Open the lid and look inside.

Lacy did and then scowled as she typed.

There’s another box inside.

Open it.

Spying another smaller box she wanted to scream while she punched out.

David!

You have to be patient.

Easy for him to say. By now her heart was pounding. Size wise they were getting into small sexual devise territory here. Would he want her to use it on herself right now? Or would he ask her to meet him somewhere so he could watch her use it? Maybe he’d want to use it on her himself?

K.

Her hands shook as she was sure this was the last one. It had to be, but then it wasn’t.

This isn’t funny David.

It’s not supposed to be. Open the next one.

She didn’t bother replying as she set about undoing the ribbon. “Finally,” she breathed as she spied silver tissue paper. Before she parted it she typed:

I see tissue paper. Can I look?

No.

She blinked at that reply and then sent her own.

Why?

You didn’t tell me the truth.

I didn’t?

You opened the box. You should have one box left and you don’t. I knew immediately when you didn’t mention my note.

“Fuck.” She chewed on her lower lip trying to figure out how she was going get out of this one. There was only one way.

Sorry, I forgot.

To call me or to tell me the truth?

Both?

She added a winking smiley face after that.

Cute, but still disappointing. Next time please follow my instructions.

She saluted the text even though he couldn’t see it, and then typed:

Yes sir.

Okay, have a look at what I sent.

Lacy was a little disappointed that he didn’t have a better response, but then she was dying to see what was in the box. Parting the paper, she peered inside.

A leather necklace?

It was black and smooth. Plain, she was thinking, and so not her style that her shoulders slumped. He probably wanted her to wear this on their next dinner date.

It’s not a necklace. It’s a collar.

She plucked it out of the box and held it up. Deciding it looked like one of the chokers she used to wear in high school.

Are you sure? It doesn’t look like one.

You’ve seen a lot of those, have you?

Not a lot. Shouldn’t it have an O-ring or something? A lock?

Would you like that?

She blew out a breath and wondered how she should answer that.

It looks like a choker to me.

It’s made out of black licorice leather.

It was. All black except for the clasp which was silver.

I probably should have told you I like shiny.

You’re not ready for shiny yet. Just think of this as a beginner’s version.

But it won’t go with my dresses.

It’s supposed to go with your undresses.

She read that sentence twice and then typed:

Oh.

Then she thought about his comment about shiny and beginner and keyed in:

Oh!

No need to panic.

I’m not panicking.

But she totally was.

You are.

I am not.

Just breathe.

I’m breathing. I’m a little surprised is all. Isn’t a collar a big step for a couple who’ve only been on one date?

This is not the collar you’d wear for me. This is a collar you’re going to wear for you.

She scratched her head.

You want me to collar myself? That’s absurd.

What I want is for you to pay attention.

She flopped back against the mattress and held her phone up as she texted.

ALL RIGHT.

Stop yelling.

She took a deep and calming breath.

I wasn’t. I hit the cap key by accident.

Is that the truth?

NO.

You’ve got guts. I’ll give you that.

She smiled. She couldn’t help it. She liked that he thought she had guts, even though she knew she didn’t.

Okay, David, I’m paying attention.

Good.

Well?

I want you to take off all your clothes and put on the collar.

She sat up, looked at her closed bedroom door and then down at her phone.

I can’t do that Jo’s here.

You can do this when she leaves.

She? She was going to correct him when she realized her mistake, but her phone vibrated again.

When you’re naked, except for the collar, I want you to lie on your bed for five minutes and think about me.

That’s it?

That’s all.

Kind of lame.

Kind of bratty.

That made her laugh. Then she typed:

What are you going to do while I’m doing that?

I’ll be getting hard thinking about you getting soft on me.

She could almost imagine his voice deepening as he spoke those words aloud. Her mouth went dry and her pulse ticked up a beat. With shaking fingers she replied:

How do you know I’m going to get soft on you?

Did I say soft? I meant wet.

Reading those words acted like a sure and sultry stroke between her legs. Damn him. She was already wet.

I think I am already.

Soft…?

Wet.

Ask Jo to leave and do as I’ve asked you to do.

K.

Lacy?

Yes.

No getting yourself off. No matter how much you may want to. Understand?

She did and the knowledge made her wetter.

Yes. You don’t want me to touch myself until you give me permission.

No. I don’t want you to touch yourself again until after I’ve had the privilege. The next fingers to sink into that wet flesh will be mine. Understand?

Thank God she didn’t have to speak. She was sure the words would have gotten caught in her throat. She shivered.

Yes.

She was just about to put her phone down and go make sure that Joe had left when her cell vibrated again.

Lacy?

Yeah?

I’ll be by tomorrow at six to pick you up for dinner. I’ll be bringing another package with me. We’ll discuss what’s inside over dinner.

She gulped.

K.

No yelling though.

She sent a smiley face even though she wasn’t feeling it. Dealing with the collar and him via texting was one thing. Having to talk about whatever he had in the package he’d brought with him tomorrow over dinner was quite another. Wasn’t he supposed to be The Quiet One?

She was still thinking about having to talk to him about this a half hour later as she stripped off her clothes and put on the collar. The leather was weighty and cool against her skin. The feel and texture of it commandeered her attention. Making her focus in on the moment instead of their upcoming tete-a-tete.

Two minutes into her five minute deadline she knew she was in trouble. She couldn’t think of anything, but David. The heat of his eyes. The steel of his voice. The power in his hand. His strong fingers…she groaned.

I don’t want you to touch yourself again until after I’ve had the privilege.

She snapped open her eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Unbelievable.”

Suddenly “the tomorrow night” she’d gone into this dreading, couldn’t come fast enough for her.