Page 22 of Please, Sir

“I’m fine with anyone knowing how I got the black eye. I don’t mind telling folks that my wife and I have a very active sex life.”

I twist up my face. “I don’t want to be your diary.”

“Fair enough.” He points to my boots, then up to my belt. “Reason why I asked you out here, kind of privately, wasn’t to tell you how kinky Dolly is.” He tips his head to the side as his lips curve down in question. “Well, I mean, not exactly but in a way, kind of.”

“Get to it,” I deadpan.

“I was hoping you could make me… someitems.” He clears his throat, and for the first time since he showed me his eye, he seems slightly uncomfortable. “Some toys.”

I look at my belt and shoes. “Custom pieces?”

He blinks at me. “Unless the saddlery has a backroom full of whips, yeah, something custom.” I think of the cabinet in my garage, locked, with the key on my person at all times. The cabinet is full of floggers and crops, none of which have a single thing to do with horses.

“You ever made anything like that before?” he asks, his voice quieter than before, despite the fact we’re alone.

I look at him, fidgeting with the button on my sleeve. “Yeah.”

He nods slowly, as if taking a pulse. Hudson knows I’m single. And no one has ever seen me with a woman before, not since Janie. Right now he’s probably trying to decide if I have a secret sinister life, or if I’m just sad and lonely.

Kind of wish right now it was the first one.

“Alright, well…” He scratches the side of his jaw before glancing out the windshield, no doubt trying to decipher how to ask for just what he wants without things getting weird. Truth is, we blew past weird minutes ago when I thought his wife punched his lights out.

“What are you wanting?” I ask.

He keeps his focus on the barn outside of the truck when he says, “Dolly gave me a list.” He digs into his pocket, passing me a rumpled piece of paper with purple pen, each word written in cursive, the i’s dotted with hearts. I read through the list as heat pricks at my skin, arousal flaring in my veins. Not trying to feel aroused around Hudson, I fold up the list and shove it into my pocket. “I can do it.”

He nods his head. “You’re gonna make my old lady real happy.”

I can’t help but smirk. “And you?”

His smile is ear to ear. “She’s happy, I’m happy.” He starts up the truck and pulls out, headed back to the ranch. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d fall in love again. Or marry, for that matter. If I could meet myself years back, when Bear was just a baby and my ex was just gone, and I could say,Hudson, hang on, because some gorgeous blonde young thing is gonna save your life, you just gotta make it five years,well hell, I’d have said I should buy a lotto ticket.” He puffs out a breath. “Because I’d have thought winning the lotto was more likely.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I decide on an estimate for his list.

“Shouldn’t be more than a week. Two tops. I can make a few items on this list in a single night.”

The leather steering wheel slides beneath Hudson’s palm as he drifts into a turn. “Well alright. That’s fast!”

“Well,” I sigh, staring out at the large oak tree down the road, the marker between his property and the Ellington house. “Now that Jo Jo doesn’t wanna go riding with me, I have absolutely nothing to do in the afternoons. And I never had anything to do in the evenings. So… a week. Week and a half tops.”

I get out of the truck, opening the door to mine. Hudson smiles at me over the hood. “Well how’s she liking cheerleading?”

I shrug. “She got moved up to JV.” Miss Riley Rivers flashes through my mind.

Hudson nods. “Good for her.” He lifts a hand. “Alright, Jake, thanks again. I gotta get inside and tell Dolly the good news.”

Just then, the front door opens, slamming against thehouse with a thud. Dolly, her hair up in a messy wad on top of her head, a paint brush poked through it, steps out. In a white dress that looks like a nightgown, her feet bare and face free of make up, she places one hand on her belly, where a baby is growing. She grips the banister with the other hand. “You were gone so long,” she whines. Hudson takes the steps two by two, collecting her in his arms, their lips fusing in a moan.

That’s my cue.

I get into my truck and drive up the dirt road toward the street, and for some strange reason, I think about what it would feel like to use those toys.

Except I’m not thinking of Hudson using a whip on Dolly.

I’m thinking of Miss Riley Rivers.

How would she react if I dragged the soft, loose tail of my flogger along her bare shoulder? If I whipped her naked ass, would she count aloud for me or would she scream for freedom? These things I make… I’ve never used them, but when I close my eyes in bed at night, I imagine it.

---