Vandal Page 12

  She tilts her head and looks at me quizzically. “Oh! The good morning kiss?”

  “Yes. That.”

  “We had a fight last night.”

  “No, we didn’t. You had a tantrum. Let’s not start it up again, all right?” Grabbing her hip, I pull her against my body and bend down to kiss her neck. “I can’t wait ’til tonight,” I whisper into her ear.

  She shivers and holds onto my arms, resting her head against my chest. “Me too,” she whispers back. “Don’t forget me while you’re gone.”

  “Not a chance.” I lift her head up to face at me. “No bad moods while I’m gone, okay? Today’s going to be a good day and tonight will be amazing. Trust me.”

  Picking her up, I sit her on the kitchen counter and kiss her hungrily, thoughts of what tonight will bring fueling my desire for her even more. Her legs wrap around my waist and her hands entwine around my neck. Knowing she misses me when I’m gone is a good sign.

  Reluctantly, I pull away. “I better go. Be good. Try to groom the cat if you can. There’s a brush in that drawer over there.”

  She giggles at me. “Okay … I think I can do that.”

  ***

  My thoughts are consumed with Tabi, Tabi and more Tabi while I ride over to Sydni’s. I wish I could have just stayed at the house with her and not wait until tonight to see her with her gifts, but I can’t blow Sydni off. Her timing completely sucks, though.

  When I get to her apartment I let myself in, as I’ve done hundreds of times.

  “I’ll be right out!” she screams from the bathroom. I help myself to a drink from the refrigerator and wait for her out on the back balcony.

  “Sorry, hon. I slept way too late today and I’m still suffering from that awful jet lag.” She’s wearing her usual denim shorts and a tank top, and is rubbing her damp hair with a towel. Her eyes are red with puffy bags underneath.

  “You look tired as fuck,” I tell her. “You need to slow down.”

  She sits, and crosses her lean, tan legs. She lights up a cigarette, her long, fire-engine red hair hanging over her face and almost catching a spark. Last time I saw her, her hair was blue.

  “Tell me how you’re doing. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Van …”

  I wave my hand at her. “Not your fault, Syd. You were touring in England—that takes precedence over everything else. I get that.” I shrug my shoulder and shake my hair out of my face. “I’m doing better. I haven’t had a drink in like, two or four days.”

  “Well that’s a start, pal. One day at a time.”

  “So they say.”

  She yawns and stretches her fully tattooed arms out and above her head, her white tank top straining over her large breasts that normally I stare at, but today I look away.

  “I ran into Talon and Ash at the studio yesterday and they told me you’re out for a while.” She takes a drag on her cigarette and watches me for a reaction.

  I roll my eyes in disgust. “Yeah, I guess they had a vote and they don’t want me wrecking their sacred image with my drunken outbursts. I don’t know who the fuck they think can replace me with on such short notice. Even wasted I play better than most of the hacks out there.”

  She smashes her cigarette into a marble ashtray on the table. “Me,” she states simply.

  “You, what?”

  “They asked me to play the tour with them.”

  I almost fall over. Sydni can totally fucking rock. Her all-female rock band Sugar Kiss is one of the best out there. I’ve known her for years and they’ve opened for us more times than I can count. I gotta hand it to Asher: it’s a genius marketing move to stick a hot girl in the band for a few months.

  Running my hand through my hair, I look over at her, speechless. “I really didn’t see this coming, Syd.”

  “I know. Neither did I. Vandal, listen. This isn’t permanent. I only agreed to do it if it’s just for a few months for this tour, until you come back on board. I’m not going to leave Sugar to be a permanent member of A&E. I couldn’t really say no; the ties run deep here, you know that …”

  I nod. “I know, I know.”

  “I won’t do it if you’re not okay with it. That’s why I wanted to see you. I’m not going to risk our friendship for this; I respect you way too much, man. You taught me way too much. And just so you know, Ash kept saying that you were coming back.” She gives my hand a quick squeeze.

  I swallow and flick my gaze away.

  “I appreciate that. I do. I’d much rather it was you than some other asshole. You’ll do fucking great, and I like not having to worry about the replacement trying to oust me for good. I’m fucking back next year. I’ve got some new material I’ve been working on—it’s fuckin’ sweet.”

  She lets out a sigh of relief and flashes me a big smile. “I can’t wait to hear it …” She pauses and stares out over the balcony for a few moments. “Vandal, don’t hate Ash so much. He’s got a lot on his plate and the band is his baby. It’s all he’s got right now.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I don’t want to think about Asher and his problems. I have my own and his could be much worse. “You gonna be okay jumping into another tour so soon? With new material?”

  “Fuck yeah. I got this.”

  I push myself away from the wooden railing. “I better get going, I have to ride back up to the lake.”

  She stands and walks with me into the house, putting her hand on my back before we reach the front door.

  “You could stay,” she hints, her voice sultry. “It’s been a while.”

  Measuring my control, I sigh and turn to face her. “We shouldn’t, Syd. Let’s not complicate shit.” I pause and decide to tell her the truth. “Plus, I kinda got someone waiting at home for me.”

  Surprise and disappointment dance across her face. “You? Really?”

  “It’s still new. We’re trying to figure it out.”

  “I think that’s great, Vandal. I really do. You deserve some happiness.”

  “No, I really fucking don’t, Syd. I’m a douche.”

  She looks me in the eye and shakes her head defiantly. “I’ve known you for a long time. You’re difficult, and you’re fucked up, but you deserve to be happy. Maybe I’ll get to meet her someday?”

  Fear courses through me like acid in my veins. “I don’t know. I got a lot of shit to figure out.”

  She leans against the doorframe and opens the door for me. “Be good, buddy. Stay in touch, and don’t worry. I’ll make you proud standing in for you.”

  “I know you will.”

  Tabitha

  As soon as he’s gone I run the to the guest room like a little kid and open the door, my insides jittery with anticipation of what could be waiting for me. On the middle of the bed are two boxes, one medium and one big, each wrapped in purple matte paper with a big black bow, and a brown suede journal. I’m not sure what to go to first, but curiosity makes me pick up the journal. I sit on the bed and open it to find handwriting on the first page in calligraphy-style writing.

  Tabitha,

  This will be our book, and I hope to fill all the pages as our story grows. I’ll write in this book each morning to tell you what I want you to do for me that day, or maybe just tell you something I’m thinking about. I want you to do the same. Tell me how you feel and what you want and write it in here so I can read it the next day. Sometimes writing thoughts is easier than saying them. This is meant to be a safe communication tool for us, and hopefully, a memoir for us to read back on someday.

  On the bed is your first present. I want you to take a shower, and wash your hair with the body soap and shampoo I bought for you. Then put on the items in the box. Take your time and let yourself enjoy everything. I know you will look beautiful.

  Then, go to the bedroom and lie on the bed in the waiting position I taught you, and wait for me to come for you.

  V

  V? What the hell? I wonder how long he’s known my name and why we’ve gone days without using our names. I want
to hear him say mine just as much as I want to say his and feel it on my lips. Tonight I’m going to insist he tell me what his name is.

  I tear the wrapping off the large box and lift the lid. Pushing the white tissue paper to the side, my eyes widen and my breath catches when I see what’s inside. I lift the corset out of the box and hold it up. The man has taste, I’ll give him that. Now it all makes sense and I know why he measured me—he wanted to make sure this would fit my body perfectly. The thought of that causes my sex to flutter and dampen. The idea of a man ordering expensive lingerie for me is crazy erotic, even romantic. The corset is a deep, cherry color, with small roses embroidered into the fabric and black satin side strips. Next I pull black stockings and a garter belt out of the box, and matching panties, the same fabric as the corset. Laying everything on the bed, I open a smaller box that’s nestled inside the larger one. Inside is a necklace made out of black material that looks like webbing with tiny sparkling crystals, and black gem earrings. Holy wow. None of this looks cheap. I lay the necklace down carefully, hoping I don’t get it in a tangled mess. Lastly, I find matching fingerless gloves, and a calligraphy style pen.

  I unwrap the medium-sized box to find a myriad of toiletries: shampoo, conditioner, body wash, body oil crème, toothbrush, perfume and makeup. Once again, all expensive looking and labeled with brand names that I don’t recognize at all. I take the caps off the bottles and inhale the scent of each one, reveling in the sweet fragrances.

  Staring at all these items on the bed, the bigger picture starts to form for me, not only about what he wants and needs, but what I can have. With someone else, I would think this was creepy and scary. But I don’t feel that way with him. This seeps of sensuality and desire, of a lifestyle that could transcend any fantasy I’ve ever had. Just touching the fabric excites me. I’ve never had real, expensive lingerie like this before. It’s exquisite.

  I leave everything in the guest room and close the door behind me to make sure Sterling doesn’t sneak in there and rip anything or get fur on it. For a blind cat he still manages to get into everything.

  Glancing at the clock, I’m disappointed to see it’s not even noon yet. I have a feeling this day will drag just because I am attempting to look forward to something and the universe has to torture me. Not knowing where he went bothers me. Nick would never just leave and not tell me what his plans were.

  Oh God. How can I be comparing Nick to him? I choke back the tears that threaten to instantly fall. No. Today is supposed to be a good day. I will not fall apart.

  After I give Sterling a quick brushing, I take a long shower using the bath products he picked out especially for me. They each smell like lavender and vanilla, which I once read is supposed to have a calming affect. I leave the conditioner in extra long so my hair will be soft and silky, my mind wandering to how my body trembles when he pulls my hair. I spot the bottle of bubble bath still in the corner, looking lonely and out of place, and it makes me sad thinking of the little girl that bathed in pink bubble gum-scented bubbles and lost her life way too soon.

  I dry my body off and spread the body oil over my damp skin. It absorbs slowly and sends a warm tingle through me, much like his touch feels. Using my finger I rub a tiny bit between my legs, between my folds.

  Next, I blow my hair out straight and apply a little bit of makeup. I never wear lipstick, but in the makeup bag is a deep red lipstick that matches the corset, so I put it on, assuming he must want me to be wearing it or else it wouldn’t be with the rest of the items.

  He said to eat light but I’m so nervous I can’t even think about food without my nerves churning my stomach. To be obedient, I force a few crackers down and sip some apple juice while I stare out the window at the shimmering water. I’d love to go float around in the boat again, but he gave me strict instructions the other day not to go on the lake when he’s not home. I think he’s afraid I’m going to fall out of the boat and drown.

  When I can’t stall anymore, I go to the guest bedroom and try to figure out what I’m supposed to put on first. Chewing my lip as I finger all the items, I pick the corset, pulling it up and buttoning the front. It’s tight, but not so much that I can’t breathe. The front barely covers my breasts but pushes them up and together, giving even my small cleavage the appearance of voluptuousness. Next I step into the panties.

  The garter belt and stockings are completely foreign to me. Sitting on the bed, very carefully I pull up the black stockings, wiggling them to my thighs and attaching them to the garter belt. I feel incredibly dressed up to still be so naked. Once I have the necklace, earrings, and gloves on, I look at myself in the full-length mirror that’s mounted to the back of the door.

  Wow.

  I look so … different. I don’t think I’ve ever looked sexy before but with this on, I do. I even feel sexy. Twisting and turning, I look at myself from every angle, loving how curvy I look. How did he know what to pick to make me look this way?

  3:45

  Waiting in the position he taught me, my head down, hands behind my back, I focus on slowing my breathing until the jitters subside, the fidgeting stops, and I feel peaceful while waiting for him. Quiet confidence washes over me.

  The sound of his motorcycle soon fills the silence, then the grinding sound of the opening and closing of the garage door. Next I hear a soft-spoken greeting to Sterling, followed by footsteps in the hall. The bathroom door opens and closes, and the hiss of the shower fills my ears. The sun sets and darkness comes, leaving me in the bedroom with no light.

  I continue my breathing exercises, taking slow, deep breaths to calm my suddenly racing heart. The anticipation is like a drug, bringing me higher, taking away all other worries and problems. Nothing exists in this moment except us.

  His presence in the room is all I can feel. I don’t move or turn as I hear a match strike and an amber glow casts seductive dancing shadows on the walls.

  I can feel his eyes on me, taking me in. Does he like what he sees? Is he disappointed?

  “Stand for me.”

  A million butterflies take flight in my stomach and soar between my legs as I slowly stand, giving my limbs a moment to wake up.

  The brief amount of research I did helps me know what to do now. I stand before him, eyes on the floor, hands clasped, and wait as he circles me slowly like a panther stalking his prey, stopping behind me.

  “You look absolutely beautiful.” His voice is deep and sexy, drenched with raw truth. I never doubt his words because his voice religiously holds so much emotion. Circling again, he stops in front of me.

  “How do you feel?”

  “I feel beautiful. Thank you.”

  “You were made to be dressed this way, to be spoiled with beautiful things.”

  He’s completely naked, his cock already hard and glistening in the candlelight. I swallow as he goes to the nightstand and takes out the pearls and ribbon he had the other day.

  How long ago was that? It feels like years.

  “All I could think about today was seeing you like this. I hated leaving you.”

  Kneeling in front of me, he runs his fingertips lightly from my ankles over my calves, up to my thighs, then around the backs of my legs and up to cup my ass, pressing his face between my legs. His fingers hook beneath the fabric of the panties and pull them down slowly, letting me step out of them.

  Pressing his face between my legs again, he flicks his tongue out and lavishes me with a few slow, long licks before standing up. He guides me to the bed and lays me on my back, then climbs on top of me, straddling my body, his cock pressed between us.

  “And I did see another woman today.” He takes one of my wrists and wraps it with a length of ribbon intertwined with the pearls, then ties it to the headboard. Anger and heartache broil in me. How dare he leave me here alone while he went to another woman? I squirm against the binds, wondering if he tied her too, and feeling sick at the thought.

  “A woman I used to fuck. A lot,” he continues, giving t
he ribbon a hard yank, tightening the bond.

  My heart and stomach lurch at his words. Please no. Jealousy spreads through me like wildfire.

  He grabs my other hand. “I didn’t fuck her this time, though.” The ribbon tightens around my wrist as he secures this one like the first.

  With my hands tied above my head, he leans down just inches away from my face, his silky hair falling down over my breasts, tickling me. “Ask me why, Tabitha,” he whispers, the sound of my name on his lips in the dark sending jolts through me.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ve ruined me already.” His lips touch mine briefly. “You’ve taken all the fun out of fucking other women. There’s no way they can compare to what you’re giving me.” This revelation makes me happy. I want him all to myself.

  He slowly runs his finger up the front of the corset and stops to caress the tops of my breasts that are spilling over the top, begging to be freed of the tight material. “How can I eat fast food when I’ve got this five-course meal waiting for me?”

  Relief mixed with fear replaces the jealousy I felt earlier. What dark road am I going down with this sexual deviant only wanting me? Do I want to be the sole object of his desires?

  Yes. I don’t want anyone else to feel the magic he can create. He’s mine.

  He lowers again, his lips at the base of my throat near the necklace, then rains kisses across my chest, his tongue finding my small cleavage, licking the sides of my breasts as his hand comes up along my ribs and rests openly over my neck. His other hand methodically starts to unfasten each tiny button of the bodice, exposing me inch by inch. His hand tightens slightly around my neck. Oh shit.

  Once unbuttoned, he lifts the corset out from under me and tosses it to the side.

  “Do you like what I picked out for you?”

  “Yes.” My voice is strained from the pressure of his grip around my throat. I wonder if he’s going to strangle me.

  “There’s a lot more I’m going to give you.” His hand cups my breast, his lips sucking my nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tip, igniting an ache deep between my thighs. His mouth descends between my breasts, down my stomach, and over my mound. His hot mouth devours my pussy, his tongue probing and lapping. My pulse quickens, and my body presses up against him, my thighs parting with want. His grip on my throat tightens sporadically as he licks and sucks at my pussy. He’s so big, and I am so small that his body completely covers mine, and he can reach every part of me easily. My legs tremble as I grind against him, so close to orgasmic bliss, and then he abruptly pulls away. I suck in a few ragged breaths, and my eyes fly open to see him moving out from between my legs to kneel on the bed beside my head, his hand still clasped on my neck. He takes his massive cock into his free hand and presses it against my mouth.