Page 22 of Our Sadie

Will I ever be able to predict what this woman will or won’t do?

I’m tender with her as I lace my fingers into those long light brown strands. They’re silky soft, and as I deepen the kiss, my tongue mingling with hers, she lifts herself up and drags her hips back down, pressing her pelvic bone right up against my fly.

The contact has my cock plumping into a semi. If this was one of my regulars, I’d lean into where this is going, but Sadie’s so much harder to read.

Speaking of harder...

I shift beneath her to conceal my growing erection, unsure if that’s really what she wants. This hot one minute and cold the next shit is throwing me off. Worse, this constant guessing what she’s after only to get it wrong is frustrating.

I have an objective I need to meet. And yeah, I’ll bend over backwards, forwards, and sideways to meet it, but there’s no point if she’s not gonna be receptive to what I’m delivering. If she’s just stringing me along, why am I even wasting my time over here in the buttfucking New Hampshire wilderness?

I bring my movements to a standstill, even as she continues to squirm all over me. She’s nipping—way less brutally this time—at my earlobe when I speak her name.

“Sadie?” I murmur, then increase my volume as her nips drop to the spot on the side of my neck where I’m ticklish. Clasping onto her upper arms, I seize her shoulders and hold her back. “Sadie?”

“What?” she huffs out, panting through kiss-swollen lips. My cock twitches at the sight.

“I’m here for you, for whatever you’d like, but this will be a lot better if you just tell me what you want from me. If it’s activities like that...” I point to the gaming room we just departed. “I’ll do those with you. If it’s making out right here in an open corridor like this, I’ll do that. I can even push you against that window and fuck you until your screams rattle the glass, if that’s how you see this date going. But this being in the dark all the time is getting to me.”

Once my speech is out I realize I may have doomed myself with this client. But the distance between here and Boston is like a rope cinching around my throat. Every day it strangles me more and more. If something goes sideways with Paisley when I’m not there, I don’t know how the hell I’ll keep myself together.

I probably won’t. And the thought of that, of something horrible happening with my sister, causes me to instantly lose wood.

Spec-fucking-tacular.

Sadie will most likely believe I’m too much of a basket case to keep around now. She might be right, too. I watch her as she swallows and removes herself from my lap, separating herself from me so that we’re no longer in contact.

Yep. I’m doomed.

“Listen to me, Dom. I’ve had lovers before.” She’s speaking more gently than I’ve ever heard from her, and the topic is so out of left field that I’m scrambling to keep up. “But not lately. Not since this.”

She points to her left hand lying limply at her side. “I long for closeness and companionship. For physical uh... completion, as well. Yet I refuse to be with someone who’ll judge me because of my scars. I’m more than just a victim, and I deserve to be treated as such.”

When her pause lingers between us, I bob my head. “Sure. Makes sense.”

“I’d like to be with you—each of you—intimately. But I won’t tolerate you or anyone else making me feel bad about it afterward. And if you’re disgusted at the thought, I need to know that right now.”

“Sadie, I’ve been a prostitute for years. How could I make you feel bad about anything when I get people off for a living?”

She blinks, then swallows again. Grasping my hand, she tugs on it until I stand. With her in the lead, I follow her up the stairs to a bedroom about twice the size of mine decorated in a more feminine style.

As we stroll in, Sadie releases my hand for long enough to press a button on the wall, causing a quiet whoosh to sound as the fireplace springs to life. I go stationary at the threshold, absorbing this new environment. The hearth is situated on the opposite side of a gigantic four-poster bed, one with a baby blue headboard and a matching throw.

Plush cream carpet suitable for a cold climate covers every inch of the flooring. And off to the side is a seating area with two cushy white chairs set around a small oval table. The seating area is positioned in front of another of those tall windows, ones that stretch all the way from the floor to the ceiling. It seems to be a theme here.

Paisley would love this place. Prior to getting sick, she used to say that baby blue was her signature color.

Yet as Sadie strolls over and shuts the door behind her, my sister instantly vanishes from my thoughts.

“How do you normally conduct something like this?” At my questioning glance, she clarifies. “The sex part, I mean.”

It strikes me that this woman, like me, is one who prefers knowing what she’s treading into ahead of time.

“I make sure my client is comfortable and pleased every step of the way.”

“How?”

“Most of the time, just by paying attention to her responses.”

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