Idle Bloom

Chapter Eleven Me and My Dom

Vivian

Just a typical Monday morning. Alex invited me and my Dom to Cape Cod this weekend. I had my usual doughnut and coffee for breakfast. Then I showed up fifteen minutes late to work because my Dom threatened—scratch that, he promised—that he would spank me, therefore causing me to hide from him like a child and take the next train.

Me: Have you ever been spanked?

Alex: Yes, my parents were all ‘spare the rod spoil the child.’

Me: Not what I mean.

Alex: Not following …

Me: Has Sean ever spanked you … in bed.

Alex: Um … NO!

Me: Okay, just wondered. Have a good day!

Alex: NFW! Did Oliver spank you?!

Me: No … not yet.

Alex: ?

Me: There was an incident at DD this morning involving doughnuts, coffee, and cock stroking. Long story short, it didn’t end well. I’ll explain later, bye!

Alex: My naughty little Flower! Can’t wait!

I don’t even know who that guy was this morning. My Oli is sexy with a dash of spicy but a sweet aftertaste. The guy who pinned me to the wall this morning was one hundred percent Habanero on steroids.

“So how’s that new guy of yours?” Maggie asks while preparing her brown bag specials to be divvied out today.

“Hot, he’s very, very hot.”

She purrs like the cougar I’ve always suspected her to be. “Sounds like you have your hands full. The times he’s been in here he seems like the sweetest young man, a real gentleman. I think you definitely got the better one of the two Konrad boys.”

I’m not sure the gentleman she’s referring to still exists. Everyone has their breaking point, and I may have found Oliver’s this morning. He took the first train without me and he hasn’t called or texted since. I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing about me. It is possible that I’m the one who should be making contact first; an apology might be the proper protocol at this point.

Me: Did the coffee burn you this morning?

I decide to ease into things, showing concern for his wellbeing before jumping into any details—testing the water.

Oliver: No.

Not the elaborate answer I was expecting.

Me: I’m sorry, looks like I owe you another new shirt.

I wait but don’t receive a reply. He’s mad, of that I am certain. I finish all the outdoor watering, then check my phone again.

Nothing.

Me: Was the yes just to the spanking or this weekend as well?

I hesitate a moment then press send.

Oliver: Both

What do I say to that? He’s planning on going which thrills me, but what about the other part?

Me: Will one take place before the other?

Oliver: Wouldn’t you like to know.

Shit!

Me: You’re welcome for the orgasm.

“So what happened?” Alex tramples me the moment I walk through the door.

“Nice to see you too. How was your day?”

“I don’t have time for this. I’m meeting Sean for dinner and studying, so spill.”

I get a drink of water while Alex hops on the kitchen counter. “I sort of got him off at Dunkin’ Donuts this morning and he crushed his coffee cup when he … released. I think he was a little embarrassed and on the way there the subject of spanking came up, but only jokingly … I think. Anyway, after the coffee incident he basically said he planned on spanking me and that’s the last I saw of him.”

“Oh my God, was he serious?”

I shrug and finish my water. “I don’t know, I mean, maybe. He sounded really mad; I didn’t even recognize his voice when he said it. Up to this point he’s been the shy sexy type but this morning … I could almost feel the metal handcuffs cutting into my wrists and hear the slap of his hand hitting my bare ass. He was that serious.”

Alex chews her nails. “Wow, Flower, just … wow! I mean you jumped in the deep end of the sex pool with Oliver. Sink or swim, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t hurt me, I do know that. But I wasn’t raised the way your parents raised you. I’ve never been spanked. Hell, I don’t think they ever put me in timeout. It’s not the pain part either. I’ve dealt with pain that was far worse than what having my ass slapped could ever be. I think it’s the humiliation part of it. I mean, isn’t it kind of degrading?”

Alex hops off the counter. “I’ve heard it’s about dominance. Some men think they need to establish it and others do it because they think it turns women on to be controlled by a strong man. There’s a role-playing factor as well. Men threaten to spank, women defy them on purpose so their man will in fact spank them. Personally, I prefer to be the dominant one. Maybe I should start smacking Sean on the ass. Lord knows he deserves it.”

“Well I don’t deserve it and I sure as hell wasn’t role-playing with him.”

“Flower, you molested him in a freakin’ Dunkin’ Donuts and then he spilled hot coffee all over himself because of it. Jeez, I’m half tempted to paddle your ass for that one.” She grabs her bag and opens the front door. “Do what I used to do. Take it like a ‘man’ and move on. By the way, are you coming this weekend?”

I nod. “Yeah, my Dom and I will be there.”

Alex laughs. “Night, Flower.”

“Night.”

Had the coffee mishap not have happened I would be knocking down Oliver’s door to see him. I’m not afraid of apologizing, I’m afraid of rejection. In spite of all the confidence Oliver has given me and all the fears he’s taken away, there’s still lingering remnants of insecurity that hold their own memories and may never go away.

He might not be home. His car is out front, but he takes the T and walks to so many places, I can’t rely on his car to give away his location. I can surge over to his door and breach the frontline, or I can grab my knitting bag and wave the white flag from my front steps. If he’s home it might draw him out, if he’s not, well, at least I’ll get something accomplished.

By eight o’clock my ass is numb and I’m thinking I might need to unravel the mittens and start over. Ever since I met Oliver, this project has turned into a nightmare. I have dropped too many stitches to count and there’s no place for the thumb. I could always keep them for myself. On really cold days I move my thumb in with all my other fingers anyway.

Just as I start to stand up, thinking my white flag is being ignored, Chance pulls up and drops off Oliver. Before he drives off he waves and gives me a smile that makes my skin crawl—a dirty knowing smile.

Oliver doesn’t look in my direction. Instead, he stumbles up his front steps. He’s still wearing his coffee-stained work clothes and he appears to be drunk. Great way to start the week.

I watch him make one failed attempt after another to get the key in the lock while spewing off a few profanities. My brain tells me to go inside and let him work out his issues, but my heart won’t listen.

“Give me your key.” I grab it from his clumsy hand.

“Viv-i-an … I missed you … today.” I try not to laugh, but the way he slurs his words and tries to act sexy at the same time is cute, funny, and very entertaining.

I open the door and he drapes his arm around my shoulders as I help him inside. “You smell like dirt and beer.”

“I do?” he asks with incredulity.

I laugh. Drunk Oliver is playful. “Yes, you do. Up the stairs you go.” We pinball between the wall and the stair rail.

“Viv-i-an?”

“Yeah?”

“I came … so hard … in the coffee shop.”

I bite my lips together to keep my giggle contained. “Yes, I know.” I push him next to the bathroom sink so he has something to lean back on while I turn on the water to the shower.

“I’d like to fuck you … in the shower. We haven’t done … th-at.”

Focus, Viv!

How can his drunken words sound so seductive? I turn and realize he’s already doing it with his eyes. I’m fully clothed yet he’s undressed me. As he fumbles with the button and zipper to his jeans, I see evidence that his mind has done more than remove my clothes.

“Here.” I push his hands away from his pants and pull his shirt over his head then squat down to remove his boots and socks.

“Do you know … how many positions … I’ve had your body in … in my mind?”

I can’t hold in my laughter. The guy who’s a mute during sex is sharing all his uncensored thoughts with me. If only Maggie could hear my “gentleman” right now. I’m not sure whether I should just listen or if I should probe him for all his secrets, including what the hell is behind that locked door in the hall.

“My, my, Mr. Konrad, you sure are chatty tonight.” I tug his shorts and briefs down.

“I can think of other things…” he grabs my ass and yanks me against his naked body “…I’d rather be doing …” His eyes are heavy. “… with my mouth.”

“Yeah, well, as tempting as that sounds …” And, oh my, does it ever sound tempting. “… I think we should get you showered first.”

“Yes, we should.” He pushes me back and into the shower.

“Oli! My clothes!”

“Take them off.” He attacks my neck and gropes my breasts over my wet T-shirt. “Then bend over. I’m taking you from behind.”

Even in his drunken state he has the power to make my whole body blush. Oliver Konrad is one kinky bastard. I shove his hands away and push on his chest until he stumbles back landing on the corner seat of the large tile shower. “Just behave for a minute, will you?” I lather up my hands and wash his hair and then work my way down his body, making each move quick and to the point. I skim my hands down his legs.

“Did you forget something?” He smirks while grabbing my hand and moving it to his erection.

I shake my head and slide my soapy hand up the length of it just once then continue down his legs again.

“Oh sure, now you don’t want to stroke my dick. You only like it when we have an audience, huh?”

I smile feeling the giggles building again.

“You think this is funny?” He laughs which makes this whole conversation that much funnier.

“I think you’re an adorable drunk.” I take the handheld showerhead and rinse him off.

He grabs my hand and directs the showerhead to my crotch. “Do you do this to yourself at home? Do you like the way it vibrates your pussy?”

Hilarious! Oh my God, Oliver is going to have me peeing in the shower, and with my luck he’d roll around in it because right now nothing he could say or do would shock me. When he looks up at me, I raise an eyebrow because I wonder when he’s going to realize that the showerhead pressed against the crotch of my thick fabric shorts does nothing for me.

The locked door in the hall is high on my curiosity list, but before this truth serum wears off there’s one more thing for which I need an honest answer. I massage my fingernails along his scalp as he looks up at me.

“What did you really think of my back when I first showed you?”

He looks into my eyes and smiles. “I thought you were a gift, an apology from God.”

I stand corrected. He just shocked me.

I’m not sure what it is, but I know he just revealed a huge piece of his past to me. However, his puzzle is still too jumbled to figure out what any of it really means.

“I’m soaked.” I spray him in the face. “Let’s get out.” Shutting off the water, I wring out my hair then grab a towel.

“You’re such a cock tease today.” He shakes his head while struggling to his feet.

I shove the towel into his chest then grab one for myself. He doesn’t dry off. Instead, he wraps the towel around his head. I can honestly say I have never seen a guy do that. The water glistens against his skin and I feel my nipples strain against my lace bra and wet T-shirt. What do I find attractive in a guy? Oliver. His name is now synonymous with handsome, thoughtful, funny, and scorchingly sexy. He is the official litmus test for all other men.

He sways a bit then takes a few unsure steps past me. I check out his firm, bare ass and can’t help myself.

Smack!

He freezes, not even turning to look at me. “You. Did. Not. Just. Spank. Me.”

I open my mouth then close it. My face scrunches into a nervous grimace. “I … I didn’t spank you. I … just patted you on the butt.”

“You spanked me.”

“It was a playful … smack.”

“It was a spank.”

“A spank is bending someone over your knee and hitting their butt. This was a … I don’t know, sort of a … high five to your ass, like athletes do to each other.”

He turns and I see the devil in his eyes—wicked. As he steps closer, I look left then right to assess my situation and plan my escape route. I notice he’s still swaying a bit. His inebriated state should give me a slight advantage.

I fake right then go left into the bedroom toward the door. He rams into the wall at first then lunges for me as I round the corner.

Crash!

“Goddammit!”

I turn. “Oli! Oh shit, oh no …” He’s on the floor and there’s blood running down his face. “What happened?” I take the towel that’s fallen off his head and hold it to the gash next to his eye.

“I tripped and hit the fucking corner of the dresser!”

“It looks bad, I think you’re going to need stitches.”

“No shit!”

I don’t appreciate his attitude, but given the circumstances I let it slide.

“Uh … hold this to your head while I get you some clothes.” I run into his closet and grab the first things I see. Dressing drunk Oliver with my shaky hands, his lack of coordination, and blood freely flowing from his head proves to be a challenge.

I help him down the stairs. “I’m so very sorry, Oli.”

“Grab my keys.”

I help him out the door and down the stairs. He plods to the driver’s side.

“Oliver, you’re not driving.”

“Well, neither are you.”

I open the passenger door and dangle his key. “Yes, I am. Now get in!”

He collapses in the seat showing more coordination than I expected. The alcohol must be wearing off. I slip in the driver’s seat and fasten in.

“Ahh … you’re wet! My leather seats!”

I glare at him. “Really, Oli? You’re drunk with blood still running down your face, but you’re worried about your leather seats?” I pull out onto the street and he grips the arm rest with his free hand.

It’s possible I’ve been told that I drive like a maniac.

“Slow down!”

“Pipe down.”

“I’m serious.”

I speed up taking the corner much faster than I should.

“Jesus! Slow down!”

“Chill out, Oli. I got an A in Driver’s Ed.”

Oliver

Vivian is dangerous to my health. She should come with a huge warning label and a list of side effects. I thought all three of us were going to perish on the way to the hospital—her, me, and my car. Indie drivers look like Driving Miss Daisy compared to Vivian.

My drunken brain has tapered off to a light buzz, just enough to still feel a little punchy.

“I think eight stitches should do it.” The ER doctor finishes sewing my head back together. “How did this happen?”

“She spanked me while I was naked and then I fell into the corner of the dresser.”

The doctor smiles. He’s clearly amused by my comment. Vivian … not so much.

“Oh my God! I …” Her eyes bug out and her jaw plummets to the floor. “He’s kidding … that’s not what happened.”

As the saying goes, if looks could kill … yep, I’d be dead.

The doctor turns and grins at Vivian. “Is it raining out?”

She looks down at her wet clothes and grabs a few strands of her wet hair. “Um … no …”

“She couldn’t even wait to take her clothes off before jumping in the shower with me.”

Another fatal glare. “I’ll be in the waiting room!” She huffs.

“You’re not the son I imagined seeing in the ER.” My dad enters the room.

“Hey, how’d you know I was here?”

He steps closer and looks at my cut, shaking his head. “I’m listed as your emergency contact, and while this isn’t an emergency they made a professional courtesy call to me anyway. How’d this happen?”

The ER doctor grins. I’m sure he’s waiting to see if I give the same explanation to my dad.

“Too much to drink with Chance tonight. I face-planted into the corner of my dresser.”

“Don’t you think you’re too old to be spending your Monday nights at a bar?”

“Probably. What can I say … it’s been a rough day. You off?”

“Just got out of surgery, so yes, I’m heading home. Do you need a ride?”

“I have my car.” I ease off the table.

“You’re in no condition to be driving.”

I point toward the waiting room. “Vivian’s here.”

“Oh, come on. I’ll say hi before I leave.”

I follow him out realizing the upper hand I had ten minutes earlier is slipping fast.

“Vivian!”

She stands with a mix of a smile and grimace on her face. “Mr. Konrad.”

“Please, call me Hugh.” He hugs her which is very uncharacteristic for him. I get the feeling that if there were teams tonight he would be on Team Vivian.

He pulls back looking her over. “Is it raining out?”

She rolls her eyes then looks at me with her jaw clenched. “No, this is a side effect of taking care of your drunk son.” Her lips curl into a see-how-it-feels-to-be-thrown-under-the-bus smile.

My dad turns, giving me a wide-eyed look. I shrug.

“Well, thanks for taking care of him. Make sure he treats you right.”

It’s my turn to roll my eyes. If he only knew what this woman has put me through today.

Vivian smiles. “Oh, I will.”

Dad pats me on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re in good hands.”

He wouldn’t say that if she drove him home.

“Mmm, yes. See ya, Dad.”

Vivian dangles my key again. “Shall we?”

We make it back in record time, the screech of the tires and the whispering of my desperate prayers the only sounds breaking the silence.

She tosses my keys on the counter. “Um … so, is there anything else you need before I go home?”

I chuckle and stare at her, loving the way she squirms when I look at her. She’s fidgety, unsure of where to look and what to do with her hands.

“As a matter of fact, there is one more thing I need.” I move closer, backing her up against the wall.

She risks a quick glance up and swallows. “What’s that?” she squeaks.

I peel her damp top off and my dick goes from hard to concrete when I see her firm nipples pressed into red lace. Her shorts go next. I love seeing her chest rise and fall like a strong tide as full red lips part and soft eyes gaze at me on my knees. Pressing my nose to her matching lace panties, I inhale her scent and smile when I hear her breath catch.

I don’t recognize myself with her. Thoughts and desires that I used to suppress have been unleashed and can no longer be ignored. Gripping her thighs, I clench the waist of her panties with my teeth and drag them down her legs.

Her hands fist my hair. “Oli … your head—”

“Is fine.”

I devour her. She is the antidote for the poison that is my past. Spreading her open, I take everything until all that’s holding her up is the wall and my hands on her legs. She yells my name over and over, desperate words fade to soft whimpers in my ears as her sweet taste infiltrates my mouth.

Then I remove my clothes, turn her around, hands pressed to the wall … and I take more.

Here I am, once again. The sun peeks over the horizon and despite the humiliation, the hot coffee that threatened to singe my nuts, my excessive intoxication, a gouge to my head, and a near-death ride to the hospital … I’m alive. My head, however, wishes that weren’t the case. There’s nothing quite like blunt trauma to the head to make a hangover feel like a jackhammer on my brain.

“Hey,” a sleepy whisper sounds behind me. Vivian squints her eyes behind her matted hair that seems to be at war with itself.

Wearing only my T-shirt, she lifts her slender leg and straddles mine stretched out on the lounge chair. Her lips brush against the colorful border of my eye and stitched skin. “I’m sorry.”

“You have a tattoo, and I’m Scarface. We’re a real badass couple.”

She smiles so bright, it feels like she’s saying, “Take that, sun.”

“You’re up early.” I rub my nose against hers.

“I was lonely in bed.”

I chuckle then grimace as it intensifies the throb in my brain. “I doubt that. You have a habit of stealing the covers and crowding me out of my own bed.”

She kisses my forehead and rubs gentle circles along my temples. “I think you’re exaggerating.”

I slide my hands up her thighs. “I’m really not, but it’s okay. I like seeing your naked body sprawled out on my bed, even if my view is from the floor.”

She shakes her head. “I’m going home. I need a shower and dry clothes.”

Another grimace as I attempt to smile.

“Have you taken something for the pain?”

“I took you against the wall last night and then two more times in bed.”

“Sex? Really? That’s your analgesic?”

I skim my hands over her stomach to her bare breasts. “Yes, and my last dose is wearing off.”

“I have to get ready for work.” She grinds against me, proving her body doesn’t agree with her words.

“I’ll be quick.” I slide my thumb down between her legs and circle over her sensitive, wet skin.

“But people can see us.” She closes her eyes and I know she’s throwing out random excuses that won’t change what’s happening.

“Didn’t stop you yesterday.”

She’s gone. Her lips collide with mine as she rocks her hips into me. “Mm-my phone.” She pulls away and climbs off me.

I reach for her, but she’s too fast.

I sigh. “Have you heard of voice mail? What are you, on call or something?”

“Nobody calls me this early in the morning unless it’s an emergency.”

Apparently a swollen penis doesn’t qualify as an emergency in her category.

“I have to go.” She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Whoa, wait! Where are you going?”

“Kai needs me.”

I fight through the beating drum in my head to stand up and follow her. “Kai, as in your ex-boyfriend?”

“As in my best friend.” She grabs her wadded up damp clothes off the floor next to the wall.

“Is he hurt or in trouble?”

“Sort of hurt.”

“I don’t follow.”

She opens the front door. “Kate, his girlfriend, left him.”

I laugh. “You can’t be serious. That’s the emergency?”

“Don’t be so insensitive. I’ll see you after work.”

“Wait! You’re not walking across the street wearing only my shirt.”

“Chill, Oli. I have dresses that show more leg than I’m showing right now.” She blows me a kiss and shuts the door.

I didn’t need to know that.