The way her mother treated her was, at least, half the reason we broke up. I just couldn’t be around it anymore. I was hopeful it would have ended after graduation, but apparently not. It’s a shame and I’ll be damned if I allow it to continue.
“Why don’t you have any money?” I don’t care about the money. I make more than enough from Gravity. I’ll give her whatever she wants and needs. But I’m curious what has her in this position. The girl I knew was a hard worker and definitely not the reckless type.
She groans but doesn’t answer.
“Why don’t you have any money?” I repeat, slower this time. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “I lost my job when I called my boss and told him I needed some time after the whole Brad situation. Turns out I was a good employee and my boss liked me, but not enough to keep me. Apparently this call off was the last straw, even though I had valid reasons for every single time I called in. Mom isn’t supposed to drive. Who else is supposed to take her to appointments, run her errands and be the person she calls for every little thing, emergency or not?” Christ. I rub a palm overmy face in frustration. She really does need help. A near sexual assault and a job loss within a day of each other. What else is there? This woman carries so much on her shoulders for others, she isn’t able to hold her own shit together. She’s the epitome of chaos.
“Did you tell your boss that you were almost sexually assaulted?” As a boss myself, that would pretty much guarantee a free pass.
“Seriously?” she shrieks. “No. Idid nottell him that. I won’t be telling anyone that nugget of information.”
“Arabella,” I respond in a low, controlled tone, slowing her name so she knows I’m serious.
She lets out a short squeak, like she doesn’t want to tell me. “I’m–embarrassed, okay? Why would I tell people about it when I can just move on and pretend what happened didn’t actually happen?”
I’m not sure if she’s done talking, so I remain silent, allowing her the space she clearly needs to let it out.
“Besides, nothingactuallyhappened.”Nothing?
“I wouldn’t call being drugged, nothing. It’s very muchsomething.”
“Maybe, but It’s probably my own fault,” she retorts, so under her breath, I’m not entirely sure I heard her right. What the actual fuck? I’m going to need to get to the bottom ofthat. No one should survive being drugged and come out of it thinking it’s on them andnotthe shithead who did it, but now is not the time for that conversation, so I let it go–for the time being. She asked for my help, so that’s exactly what she’s going to get.
“We’ll be circling back to this, I can assure you. Did you do what I asked yet?” After our chat earlier, I left her with a long list of kinks and fetishes to organize into interests, soft and hard limits. Mostly, I wanted her to think about things she may or may not want to try. In retrospect, I probably should haveremoved the more sexual things on the list, but at very least I figure we can have conversations about them at some point. At least when she finds a Dom one day she wants to be sexual with, she’ll know how to go about it safely. The thought alone makes me irrationally angry, but as much as my dick wants to claim her, I’m the one in charge and it can’t happen. I promised us both that this would remain a non-sexual relationship and I intend to keep that promise.
“I did. I finished it right before Mom called all panicked.”
“Good girl. Here’s what you’re going to do.” I’m about to take control of the situation and I’m curious if she’ll push back. “Grab your list, get dressed, put your shoes on and wait for me. I’m coming to get you and I’ll take you to her.”
I’ll be damned if I allow her to ride with a goddamn stranger to see her Mom.
I wait a few moments for her response when a single word comes through.
“Okay.”
That won’t do.
“Excuse me?” If she were in front of me, she’d see my brow lift as I wait for the correct response.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Better. I’ll be there in twenty. Be ready.”
21
Ryker
It didn’t even take me the full twenty minutes to get to her, although I stretched the speed limit a bit. I’m sitting in my car, two houses down, waiting not so patiently for her to come back. Idon’tdrive the same car as I did back then, but as soon as she asked me if I thought her mother might recognize me through the windshield, I knew she was anxious about it. I had a feeling she wasn’t going to ask, so I offered to park back a bit, hoping the distance might help to ease her nerves.
It’s probably for the best. I have no doubt Christine wouldnotbe pleased I’m even talking to her daughter, and it would likely bring more questions than either of us are ready to answer.
She’s been in there at least thirty minutes, andmynerves are starting to get to me. Pulling out the list I had her work on, I look it over, curious to see all that she’s interested in. To my surprise, it looks like she’s really taken her time and thought this through. The basics, like hair pulling and handcuffs, are all obviously checked yes, which is not all that surprising but seeing that she’schecked yes to impact play and discipline has my cock throbbing in my pants.
When I get to exhibitionism and anal and see she’s marked them as soft limits, meaning she’d try them with some discussion, I swear every ounce of blood inside me rushes to my aching dick. And now I’m definitely fully erect. Everything I’ve read on this list, I see myself doing them–toher.I shift my ass in the seat and palm myself to relieve some of the pressure, but it doesn’t help much. “Get a hold of yourself, Ryker,” I whisper to myself.
The passenger door finally pops open, and I sit up quickly, hoping to hide my situation. The last thing I want is to make her uncomfortable. But as soon as she closes herself in, I clock her expression and know things didn’t go well. Her color is ashen, even in the moonlight, and she won’t look at me. The erection I was battling just moments ago, is gone.
