What's Your Pleasure Page 8

  Head shot

  ½ oz raspberry liqueur

  ½ oz Southern Comfort

  Shake with ice, strain. Pour into shot glass.

  Joe blinked at him. Was he serious? If they both left, who would run the bar? Did he really want to meet Cain?

  “I came up here to tell you I think we should hire some more people,” Vincent began.

  “Can you afford that?” she asked, her brain quickly switching gears.

  “I can now. To help with scheduling, I’m going to hire two part time people, and Nathan said he’d be willing to work a few hours a week, as well. That way, we can take time off together,” he assured her.

  “But can you get someone so soon?”

  “Sure. Nathan can cover Saturday, we’re closed Sunday. No problem,” he said as he pulled her into his arms. “We’ll plan on leaving Saturday morning.”

  * * * *

  Saturday morning arrived with a chill in the air and the smell of snow. Joe smiled. She loved snow. Sure, the roadways could be quite hazardous, but the beauty of the whiteness spoke to her. Having already packed for the short trip, all she had to do was eat breakfast and dress in a skirt and a bulky, brown sweater. Twenty minutes later, she was seated in Vincent’s four wheel drive Jeep.

  “I made reservations for the hotel on the edge of Springfield. It has an indoor pool with an arcade right next to it,” she informed Vincent.

  “How many rooms?”

  Joe blushed. “Just one. They were pretty well booked up, but there are two double beds, and I thought you could take one and Cain and I share the other.”

  Vincent reached over to lay a hand on her leg. “That sounds good. I want to get to know this kid. From what you’ve told me, he’s one special boy.”

  “He is,” Joe assured him, smiling. How on earth had she lucked out enough to find a man as sensitive and adorable as this one?

  “Since we won’t really be alone, however, I think it best we make the most of our time in the car,” Vincent said.

  “Okay,” she answered hesitantly, unsure of what he meant but recognising the commanding timbre of his voice.

  “Are you wearing panties?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take them off,” Vincent commanded.

  Joe blinked once then did as he bid. Vincent did not even glance at her, simply taking it for granted she would obey him.

  “Now the skirt.”

  “But…” she began to object.

  “Now,” he stated, a hard edge to his voice.

  Glancing nervously at the passing traffic, Joe complied. This time, Vincent did spare her a glance and a quick nod.

  “Now, open the glove compartment. You will find a small, cordless bullet vibrator. I want you to insert it then hand me the controller.”

  Joe followed instructions, opening the glove compartment and finding a shiny, silver vibrator. She didn’t worry about being wet. The moment she had opened the door to Vincent that morning, she had felt herself soften and moisten. After inserting the device deep within her pussy, she obediently handed Vincent the controller.

  He began gently, building intensity until Joe felt her muscles contract. She tipped her head back, knowing she was on the brink of orgasm. Suddenly, a large semi truck pulled up beside them and honked. Joe squealed and quickly bent over, trying to cover herself from the leering driver.

  “No, you don’t,” Vincent warned. “If he wants to look, he can look. Let him see how beautiful you are. You don’t cover yourself unless I tell you, got it?”

  Joe nodded and hesitantly glanced up at the grinning trucker. Apparently, the man radioed his friends, because within minutes, five other trucks were lined up to get a good look at Joe’s squirming body.

  Vincent pulled the Jeep into a rest area, and Joe reached for her skirt.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Well, I need to use the restroom, and I can’t very well walk in there half naked,” she answered.

  Vincent raised an eyebrow. “You think you can just put on your clothes without permission or earning that privilege?”

  “Oh,” Joe murmured. “You’re right. May I put on my skirt?”

  “Not until you’ve sucked me off.”

  Joe grinned and quickly reached over to unzip his jeans. Without further instruction, she licked the tip of his penis, savouring the sweetness of his pre-cum juices. She rolled her tongue around his shaft before opening her mouth wide and devouring his length. Closing her lips over him, she sucked gently and moved her head steadily up and down. Vincent placed his hand on her head, playing with her hair.

  God, he tastes good. She’d given head quite a bit in her time, but no one had ever tasted as sweet as Vincent. She could suck on him all day. Suddenly, he pushed her head down, her lips hitting his pelvis, his body shaking. Joe greedily swallowed his hot load, feeling the liquid fire slide down her throat. When he relaxed his grip a bit, she hungrily lapped up all the remaining cream, purring like a satisfied kitten.

  “Nice,” he complimented. “Now you can put on your skirt, but make sure it comes off again as soon as you get back.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She flashed him a wickedly satisfied grin.

  * * * *

  Vincent glanced at Joe sleeping peacefully in the passenger seat. For the ride home, he’d ordered her to remove not only her skirt and panties, but her sweater and bra, as well. In deference to the chilly weather, though, he had allowed her to drape a thin blanket over herself. When he had noticed her eyes becoming heavy, he had told her to lean back and take a nap. Now, one corner of the blanket had dropped a bit, revealing the curve of one luscious breast. Vincent cast an appreciative glance at it before returning his attention to the road. He could get used to having a naked woman with him.

  For the most part, the weekend had gone beautifully. Mr. and Mrs. Hett had dropped Cain off at the hotel within half an hour of their arrival. The rest of the day had been filled with playing in the pool, challenging the little scamp to games of Asteroids and Space Invaders and eating disgusting, kid-appropriate food before Cain had fallen asleep with his head on Vincent’s shoulder. That was when Vince’s heart had flipped over. He hadn’t been able to resist dropping a quick kiss on the little boy’s head before tucking him into bed. He felt a warm, cosy sensation stealing over him as he remember how Joe had looked this morning, snuggled in bed, wearing flannel pyjamas with little Cain curled against her. After stuffing their faces with pancakes and bacon, he and Joe had taken Cain shopping to replenish his supply of socks, underwear and toy race cars.

  His hands gripped the wheel a bit tighter as he thought about Mr. and Mrs. Hett.

  He and Joe had driven to their home to drop off Cain. The boy had tearfully hugged Joe and even thrown his chubby arms around Vince’s neck before leaving. Mrs. Hett had done little more than huff at the boy and shout at him to put his packages away before slamming the door shut. Was it possible to fall in love with a little boy in just twenty-four hours? Vincent wasn’t sure, but he knew that he’d do all he could to help Joe make a warm, loving home for him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bad Habit

  ½ oz. vodka

  ½ oz. peach schnapps

  Shake with ice, pour into shot glass.

  “So, when will we meet this paragon of virtue?” Eileen Milo probed as she placed a basket of bread on the table.

  “Soon, Mom.” Vincent had dreaded this. Sunday dinner with the family. He’d missed it last week since he’d taken Joe to Springfield, but there was no escaping two weeks in a row. At least he’d been able to beg Nathan into coming with him.

  “Soon, he says,” Eileen admonished. “He’s thirty years old. When you were his age, Anthony, you had a house, a wife and a child. Does he think time will stand still for him?”

  “Now, Eileen, give him a chance. He needs to establish that business of his before he can even consider supporting a wife,” answered Anthony. He glanced at his son and shrugged.

  Vincent knew
Eileen’s greatest joy was her son, and her greatest disappointment was that he was the only one. She had dreamed of having a large family, a house filled with children. Sadly, after the very difficult birth of Vincent, she had never been able to conceive again. Now, she lived for grandchildren.

  “I’m right here, Mom. You can talk to me, you know,” Vincent countered.

  Eileen took her place at the end of the table and glared at her son. “I’m just pointing out that you’re not getting any younger. And neither am I, for that matter. I’d just like to live long enough to bounce a grandchild on my knee. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Vincent rolled his eyes as he watched his mother blot hers with a napkin.

  He glared at Nathan who barely suppressed a giggle. What was it about coming home that turned them both into little boys again?

  “Actually, Mrs. Milo,” Nathan began, “I think you’ll really like Joe.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Well, for starters, she don’t take no crap…uh…I mean , she doesn’t let anyone walk all over her.”

  “Well, a woman has to stand up for herself,” Eileen acknowledged. “If she can stand up for herself, she can stand up for her children.”

  Suddenly, an idea struck Vincent. Rather than blurt anything out right there at the dinner table, though, he waited, listening as the conversation turned away from his personal life to local gossip.

  When dinner was finished, he stood and offered to help his mother with the cleanup. When she demurred, he insisted, telling her she worked too hard and he wanted a little time with her, anyway.

  “Since you put it that way, how could a mother refuse?”

  When they were in the kitchen, Vincent approached her with his idea.

  “Mom, I have a favour to ask,” he began.

  Eileen set down her dish cloth and gave her son her full attention.

  “Joe has a son, sort of,” he stammered.

  “Perhaps we should sit,” Eileen offered.

  Vincent grinned. She must have known he’d been perturbed throughout dinner. After all, she couldn’t have raised him without knowing his habits. When he had dropped his fork not once, but twice, she must have known something serious was on his mind.

  As he sat across from her at the Formica kitchen table, she held onto his hands.

  “Now, tell me all about it,” she encouraged.

  Vincent told his mother everything, almost. He told her of first meeting Joe, of falling in love with her, of the fire, of Cain. Carefully, he refrained from mentioning anything about Joe’s surprising submission to him. Eileen remained silent, absorbing all he said.

  “So here’s what I was thinking, Mom. The house on Russell Avenue

  , is it still vacant?”

  “Yes, it is. The last renters moved out about two months ago, and we haven’t had anyone interested in it since then,” she answered.

  From the expression on her face, he knew she was guessing the direction of his thoughts.

  “I know this sounds stupid since I’ve just met Cain and I haven’t really known Joe that long, but I love them, Joe and Cain both. That house is in a good neighbourhood, and Cain could go to St. Michael’s School in the fall. Joe would still be within easy driving distance of the bar, and I could switch her hours around so she could be home with Cain when he gets out of school,” he explained.

  “Vincent, I think it’s a wonderful idea, not stupid at all. I know it’s fast, but did I ever tell you about how fast your father and I fell in love?”

  “No, I don’t think you did,” Vincent admitted.

  “We met at a Friday night Fish Fry, and by Sunday afternoon he had asked me to marry him. Whirlwind romances can end badly, my boy, but sometimes,” his mother smiled secretively, “whirlwind romances last forever.”

  Coming back to the present, Eileen looked carefully at her son. “Have you mentioned any of this to Joe?”

  “I thought I’d surprise her,” he proudly admitted.

  Eileen gave him a stunned look before she threw her head back and laughed. “Son, you have no idea what you are in for!”

  * * * *

  “Keep your eyes closed, honey,” Vincent said as he guided Joe into the house on Russell Avenue

  . His parents had purchased this place years ago with the idea of reselling it. Just after they’d gotten it fixed up, though, the housing market had crashed, and so they had decided to keep it as rental property. Vincent had always loved its cottage-like feel and had often thought of moving in. But with three bedrooms, a living room, three bathrooms, a dining room and finished basement, it was just too big for one person. He would have felt its emptiness. This was a house which should be filled with noise and people, a family. Now, he might just be able to have all that.

  “Okay,” he said, positioning Joe in the centre of the living room, “you can look, now.”

  Joe laughed, her eyes slowly opening. Vincent carefully watched her face as she turned in a circle, eyeing the room speculatively.

  “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

  “It’s lovely, but I don’t understand why you brought me here,” she admitted.

  “Joe, this is where we’re going to live,” Vince explained quickly. “Look, here’s the master bedroom, the kitchen is in here, and down the stairs is a full, finished basement complete with its own bathroom. Plenty of room for all of Cain’s toys! It’s already furnished, so we won’t even have to worry about buying anything right away.” He dragged her from room to room, pointing out the wonders of each.

  Suddenly, Joe understood his excitement. She felt the heat rise to her face as first anger then fury overtook her senses.

  “Hold on there, Big Guy. You think that you and I and Cain are going to live here?” she asked indignantly.

  Vincent blinked in obvious confusion. “Why do you sound mad?”

  In exasperation, Joe threw up her hands, barely missing Vince’s head. “Because I am mad, you idiot! You really expected me to jump up and down and say ‘thank you, kind sir’?”

  “Well, yeah, kind of,” Vincent admitted sheepishly, reaching his arms out to hug her.

  “Well, guess what?” Joe shouted, pushing him away. “I don’t need you or any other hero in my life. I can take care of myself and of Cain, too. I’ve almost got enough money to start looking for a bigger place so I can move him down here once school gets out. You might be my sexual dominant, but I make my own life decisions.”

  “But don’t you see, this is the perfect arrangement for us,” he cajoled.

  She poked a finger at his chest. “I make my own arrangements, and I don’t appreciate you taking it for granted that I’d just hop onto your Instant Family Train.” Her anger burned so hot that she barely noticed Vince’s eyes darkening.

  “Listen, Joe.” He grabbed her hand. “If you poke me one more time, you’re going to be sorry.”

  “Oh, you think so?” she taunted, poking him with her free hand.

  “That’s it!” he shouted.

  Before she could blink, Vince grasped the back of her head and pulled her against his chest. His head came down on her lips, crushing them beneath his onslaught. Gone was all gentleness. This was a primal, savage kiss designed to intimidate and dominate.

  Joe felt her anger melt in the blinding heat of passion. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moulded her body into his. How could she stay angry with him when she couldn’t even remember her name?

  Without removing his lips from hers, Vince tore at her clothing. Joe heard buttons pop and felt fabric rip. She didn’t care. She began clawing at Vince just as earnestly. When he had torn her blouse off of her, he broke the kiss only to drop his head and capture a nipple with his teeth. Joe threw her head back and moaned. The pleasure-pain of his assault on her tender buds had her legs quivering and her juices flowing.

  “Fuck me,” she begged.

  Suddenly, he released her nipple and scooped her up in his arms. He carried her to the bedroom and dumped her on
the bed. Roughly he removed first her shoes then her jeans and panties.

  “Not yet, little girl. First, I need to teach you a lesson. I told you not to poke at me.”

  Joe’s eyes widened as he whipped off his belt and folded it in half, slapping the leather against the palm of his hand.

  Joe’s mouth watered. “Are you going to use that on me?” she squeaked.

  “That was my plan. Seems I need to break you of a bad habit. You got any objections?”

  Joe shook her head and gulped. Already her thighs were sticky with anticipation.

  Vince reached down and rolled her over. Joe cringed and bit her lip as she heard Vince snap the leather together. She knew this was going to hurt, but damned if she wasn’t trembling with excitement. Without realising what she did, she tensed her ass muscles, bracing herself for the first blow. She heard the sing of leather and felt the bed beneath her jerk. Curiously, she felt no pain, so she glanced over her shoulder at Vincent.

  He stood there, his chest heaving, the thick, black belt in his hand, a sardonic smile on his face.

  “Surprised?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she acknowledged. “I thought you were going to…”

  “Did I say you could turn around? I’m your Master. I’ll beat your ass or not as my pleasure warrants. Right now, I want you to keep your face to the bed. You are not to look at me. Sometimes I’ll hit the bed, sometimes you. My choice. Understand?”

  “Yes,” she said as she whipped her head back again. Her senses jumped as he once again snapped the leather and hit the mattress next to her. The third swing of the belt, though, smacked her bottom, and she howled, not so much from pain as from surprise. She knew he had lightened the power behind the stroke that smacked her ass, but still, the sting of the leather brought tears to her eyes and moisture to her pussy.

  Over and over again, he tortured her. She never knew if the bed or her ass would be the target for the next swipe, and the disorientation left her breathless. She thought she’d go mad. Finally, she heard him drop the belt and unzip his pants.