Page 100 of Mark my Words

Up your ass.

Adrian: ETA on package drop?

“What the hell are you texting over there?”

“Adrian is being a dumbass.” I rolled my eyes as my phone pinged with another text. “Big surprise.”

Adrian: I need visual confirmation you have eyes on the target.

Kristine pulled my phone out of my hand, quickly responding to his text as we waited for Evan and Chase to climb out of the car Diana had arranged to take us to the venue for the book reading. He was visibly nervous, unaware it wasn’t a traditional bookstore. Our official itineraries had only listed today’s event as an author reading followed by the book signing with a question-and-answer session.

The nondescript brick building with thick burgundy curtains hanging in the storefront window didn’t reveal what was inside, but I’d googled the name Diana shared with us on the ride over, and I was intrigued. Their website showed it was an erotic art gallery, housing a complete library of erotic literature—both fictional and non-fiction—and it regularly held educational classes as well as gatherings for the local kink community.

Chase was reveling in the outfits as she joined us on the sidewalk, laughing as she adjusted her black leather skirt. “I feel like a naughty librarian.”

Evan was transfixed, watching Chase with a hungry look while anxiously plucking at the side seams of his tight leather pants.

Kristine loved it, smacking Evan on the ass, which only caused a small jolt of jealousy to flare through me before he started pulling off the accessories to his outfit and shoving them into my hands. The women continued to laugh as I stowed away all the leather and chains inside my messenger bag. While ridiculous, Evan’s outfit wasn’t nearly as bad as we’d expected, and he was carrying off the leather pants well. I think it helped that Chase seemed to enjoy them.

Chase distracted Evan by kissing him and whispering something suggestive in his ear. At least, I assumed it was suggestive by how he cleared his throat, clearly looking flustered as we all followed Diana through the front door to the gallery.

“Damn.” Kristine laughed, drawing my eye to the sign she was studying inside the entryway. “It’s too bad we won’t be here tomorrow. They’re having a class on squirting.”

Her expression was one of curiosity and humor, but the loaded look she sent in my direction had me adjusting myself and clearing my throat as I stared back.

“Let’s get set up. You’re scheduled to start in a half-hour.” Diana steered Chase and Evan toward a reception desk off to the side.

Kristine stepped back toward me, linking her arm with mine briefly as she looked back at the area where the art gallery was set up. “Want to go take a look around?”

My head was nodding—almost frantically—as I placed my arm around her back, turning her toward the entry and clearing my throat. “Absolutely. Lead the way.”

While I’d appreciated the local art scene at Duke and after I’d relocated to Boston, I had to admit, I’d never been to a gallery that so openly displayed explicit images and never so many in one location. Everywhere you looked, there were erotic scenes depicted in a range of styles, mediums, and intensity. Even the more abstract pieces had a quality that drew your eye to the sensual poses and seductive lines of color.

Kristine paused, lingering in front of a piece done in various shades of black and gray hatch marks—the shadowy, fragmented figure of a woman lying face down with her neck arched in the lower portion of the frame. Her back was a harsh curve, a man’s hand holding down the base of her neck as his other hand pressed into the area beneath her shoulder blade with his fingers splayed and grasping her skin. Her hips arched back into his in the center of the piece, and his legs splayed open as he clearly penetrated her, his calves straining with his implied thrusts. The top of his head and the shadowy impression of his downturned face were visible in the top corner of the frame, his gaze falling toward where she was captive beneath him, his shoulders strained with the effort to maintain their intense coupling.

“Why’d you stop?” I whispered, stepping in behind her as she quietly studied the piece, her bottom lip pulled taut underneath her top teeth, her breaths shallow. “Do you like this one?”

Kristine nodded, leaning back into my chest, her fingers reaching down to dig into the material covering my thigh as she stared at the erotic scene inside the ornate gilded frame.

“What do you like about it? Does the thought of being dominated like that turn you on?” A shiver radiated from her shoulders down to where I was pressed into her, her breath catching as I gently rubbed my nose into the soft skin behind her ear. She smelled intoxicating, all smooth skin and gentle florals, part of it her natural scent intermingled with her shampoo. I’d heard the shower in her room turn on early this morning and stroked away my morning arousal in the rumpled sheets of my lonely bed as I imagined her touching herself under the warm spray.

I’d assumed she’d join me last night, but I’d fallen asleep alone in my bed, her room silent on the other side of the wall. It would have been easy to knock on the door and insist she join me or follow her into her room, but I wouldn’t force her to decide with my constant presence. If she genuinely wanted me, she needed to show me with more than just her body.

“Who would you imagine doing this to you, Kristine?” A small moan escaped her mouth as I reached around and cupped her throat loosely in my hand. Her pulse raced wildly beneath my palm, and she whimpered as I pressed my hips into her back, already hard as a rock. “Do you wish I was holding you down and making you take my cock as you grasped my soft sheets? Does it make you wet picturing me grasping your neck as I give you all of me, as hard as I can manage, our skin slapping together?”

“Fuck,” she exhaled as she closed her eyes, her face tilted toward me, her soft mouth falling open as I increased the pressure on her neck. We’d had some intense sex in the last few months, but the thought of holding her down, her hips thrust into the air as she took my cock, was one fantasy I was desperate to fulfill.

“Tonight,” I promised as I released her, stepping back and grasping her hand as she followed me to the next piece with a dazed look. Her reactions told me she was picturing the same thing, and I wouldn’t bother hiding that I wanted her in my bed later.

We walked quietly, hand in hand, as we wandered between the gallery walls, occasionally pausing to study one enticing piece or another. My hard cock pressed into her as she leaned against me at every opportunity.

I was almost desperate to be done when Chase and Evan finished the reading and the signing, patiently answering the questions during the Q&A with the attendees. They’d fallen into a comfortable banter with each other during their time in front of the crowd, and everyone was eating it up, utterly entranced by their obvious chemistry.

“Would you like to join me for dinner?” I asked Kristine, glancing toward where Diana was talking to the gallery owner.

We were almost done packing up all the promotional materials, ready to send them ahead of us to Los Angeles and the next leg of the book tour. It was almost half over, and Kristine and I were still locked in this battle of wills, neither of us willing to admit the depth of our feelings.

I submitted my manuscript trial to the hiring committee this morning, and I should have felt relief at finishing the work, but I wanted to ask Kristine how she was progressing. She’d changed the subject every time I’d brought it up, continuing to distance herself from me professionally. I knew we were each other’s competition, but I’d never use that to manipulate her. I was proud of her tenacity, no matter the outcome, fighting to earn what she wanted. It was the part of her I loved the most—her independent spirit—even if it was also the cause of the emotional distance she forced between us.

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