Page 13 of Callback
“I noticed.” Jude’s mouth twitched into a smile and he waved at the VIP server. “I got you some champagne. To celebrate. Of course, that was before I knew you were a bourbon drinker.”
“Thanks, man. That was nice.” Omar said, his grin widening.
“Thanks, Jude,” I echoed. “Would you like to stay for the first glass?”
“No, no. I’ve got to get going.” He leaned over, taking Omar’s hand once more in a firm handshake, then leaned in, slowly, brushing his lips gently across my cheek. Even though it was chaste, the sensation fluttered in my stomach.
He turned and headed out of the VIP section as Omar raised an eyebrow at me.
“Don’t start,” I puffed, finishing the rest of my bourbon in a gulp.
“Wasn’t gonna,” Omar grinned. “Now, let’s get this celebration started.” He sat down and pulled me into his lap, curling his body around mine in a hug.
*
I found myselfchecking the time every five minutes. I was powerless to stop, even from the dance floor. Of course, Omar noticed and at around 10:40, I tugged my phone out of my small glittered purse, the bass from the music still pulsing around us. His gaze narrowed, eyeing me with a scrutiny that only Omar could get away with.
“You got another date later tonight?” he joked.
My cheeks warmed. With a final sip of bourbon, I shook my empty glass. “I’m going to use the bathroom and get another bourbon. Want one more?” I asked, lifting my chin toward Omar’s nearly empty pint glass.
He tipped the glass back, finishing the rest and handed me his empty cup. “Sure. Thanks, boo.”
I wasn’t lying exactly, telling Omar I was getting another drink… and yet, it definitely didn’t feel like the truth. But I had to know; had to find out for myself what this pleasure was that Jude talked about. What would it feel like to eat that caramel in the same moment he would be eating his and thinking about me? I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry as I weaved through the VIP lounge. I checked my phone again as I reached our table. 10:43. The peonies still decorated the table like pink, fluffy balls of cotton candy. I put my phone down, face up, watching the minutes tick by. 10:44. My stomach fluttered and I took one of the salted caramels in my hand. Normally, this box would be half gone by now and I’d be feeling guilty, with plans to punish myself with an extra 30 minutes on the treadmill. This was different. I was excited for the bite. For a nibble of a treat I’d had dozens of times. The flutter in my stomach waved up my body, cresting at my breasts, and beneath the flimsy dress, my nipples tightened.
Was Jude doing the same thing? Was he at home, caramel in hand, watching the clock, anticipating my bite? Was he in bed? On his couch? Wearing his suit or pajamas? Or better yet, nothing.
Shit. No.No. This was research for a part. That’s all. The time on my phone switched. 10:45 exactly. Those were his words. With the change in time, that wave of excitement I’d been feeling turned into a monsoon. Chill bumps skated down my arms. Why was I nervous? Why was I so excited? I lifted the caramel to my lips, closing my eyes and slowly took a bite. My heart slammed against my ribs, beating wildly and I felt that same pulse between my legs. I bit the caramel, chocolate cracking against my teeth, immediately melting against the warmth of my lips and breath. It was dark… still sweet, but also bitter. The caramel spilled over my tongue, sweet and rich and gooey, and as I chewed, I saw Jude’s face. His slightly curved smile. His jade green eyes, so cool and collected. What would he look like wild? Unhinged? Would he be pleased knowing I was eating this salted caramel just as he had instructed? Was he eating his, too? Did he swallow it in one big bite? Nibble it like I did? Lick his lips clean of melted chocolate as he finished?
I swallowed, my stomach tight and crossed my legs to relieve the ache at the apex of my thighs. Then, I placed the other half of the caramel in my mouth, sucking the melted chocolate from my thumb, rolling my tongue over the tip of my finger, imagining it was the tip of Jude’s cock. As the caramel dripped down my throat, thick and creamy, my mind exploded with imagery of Jude and caramel drizzled on various parts of his body.
A moan escaped from somewhere low in my throat. The guttural sound unlike any noise I’d heard myself make in the past and my eyes shot open.Did anyone hear that?My face burned and I scanned the room, looking for anyone who might be watching me; laughing at me. No one looked my direction. Most bodies were still writhing on the dance floor. Or at the bar ordering. Omar was just to the side of the dance floor, facing the opposite wall talking on his phone.
What is wrong with me?This was a chocolate covered caramel for God’s sake. Not a vibrator. Not porn. Not a sexy romance novel…. One single piece of candy and I was so damned hot, I was considering rushing home to have a little quality time with my battery-operated boyfriend.
My gaze settled back onto the nearly full box of caramels beside the peonies. I wanted another. Wanted more of what I’d just had. But Jude had specifically said only one more for tonight. Heat curled around my spine and I clutched my hands together. If I was a submissive, following this rule would be part of what made it sexy. And if I was being completely honest with myself, itwassexy.
Knowing he was at home, turned on, thinking about me. And knowing I made him happy. The disease to please, my dad called it. But no, it was more than just that. Maybe it was the delayed gratification Jude had mentioned. The fact that this was the only chocolate I was having tonight and so I anticipated it. Waited for it, longing for it. Nervous for it. And it made the caramel so, so much better. Jude’s pleasure was only part of that.
Dipping my hand into my bag, I pulled out Jude’s business card, running my finger along the cornered edge of the paper. Then, grabbing my phone, I punched in his number, texting him.
I’ll see you tomorrow at Daisy’s.My mind was made up. Whatever that was I had just experienced? I wanted more of it. Needed more of it. For research, yes. But also for myself. That intense moment of pleasure was unlike anything I’d had before. My phone buzzed in my palm.
So, it was good then?
Good didn’t even cover it. I swallowed, my thumbs tapping the keys.It was the best salted caramel of my life. How was yours?
If I closed my eyes, I could almost hear his low rumbled chuckle. Could almost smell his earthy, spicy scent.
I loved every second of it. And I love it even more knowing you enjoyed the experiment, too.
The experiment. Was that all I was? Some sort of twisted BDSM Pygmalion?
It didn’t matter. The point was, I wanted this part. And it was clear I had a lot to learn about this lifestyle—about Jude’s lifestyle—despite the hours I’d spent Googling and on FetLife. Three little dots appeared above Jude’s name. He was typing more.
You did a great job tonight. Have fun, be sure to drink some water and take a Tylenol before bed.
“I was wondering what was taking so long.” Omar’s voice boomed above me and I jumped, startled, clutching the phone tighter. He laughed. “I should have guessed you dug back into those caramels. I’ll go get us the next round.”
He turned toward the bar.
“And a water,” I blurted out, my eyes falling to Jude’s text. “Please.”
“Water and a bourbon coming up,” Omar said, walking away.
I sighed, leaning back and slid the phone into my purse. If I was going to try this submissive thing for a week, I was going all in.Except for sex.Which, based on how turned on I got from one damned chocolate, might be harder than I thought.
