Free Rich Promise by Ashe Barker Page B

as he turns and strides across the restaurant to give our order at the self-service counter. I take advantage of the precious moments of respite to carefully school my features back into something resembling a woman out for a nice afternoon with a man she loves.
    I must be a better liar than I thought, because he doesn’t call me on it again.
     
    * * * *
     
    Dan’s right. The beef stew is good. We eat in silence—or I do. Dan’s back to his normal relaxed self, passing me the salt, offering me tea or coffee after my meal. I answer in nods, headshakes, and when those fail me, monosyllables. If he notices, he lets it pass.
    If? Of course he notices. But he seems to have decided to respect my need for privacy and he’s not probing for more details of my alleged domestic bust-up. I appreciate this, I really do. By the time we’re back in the Discovery and on our way to Keswick, I’ve fully regrouped and I’m determined to put on a decent show.
    “What would you like to do this evening?” I turn to him, study his profile as he maneuvers through the light North Lakes traffic.
    He slants a warm smile back at me. “Fuck you.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “I’m sorry, was I not clear? This evening, I’d like to strip your clothes off, spread you out on my bed, tie you to it, and fuck you until you beg me to stop.”
    “I see.”
    “You do tend to make a lot of din, so I’ll need to gag you too. Would that be all right with you, Summer? Or would you like to talk to me?”
    Unsure how to answer that, I sit in silence as he slows down for a blind junction. He stops the vehicle to look both ways along the road. He glances in the rear-view mirror before turning to me. “I’m good at listening, Summer. If you want to talk.”
    I stare at him, tempted. It would be so easy. But then what? Then, would come the explanations, the remembering. The denying all the stuff I can’t bear to be true. My life would be messy again, untidy, disorganized. I shake my head.
    “No, a gag will be fine.”
    He tilts his head in acceptance and re-checks the road before setting off again.
    The rest of the journey is uneventful. Dan chats to me, pleasant, friendly. He seems unconcerned at my refusal to talk to him, even though it’s clear he knows there’s something bothering me, something more than I’m telling him.
    He could insist, could apply more force if he chose. I know he’s not above that. But he lets it go, apparently preferring to maintain a light banter. Eventually, I manage to drag my mood back to something more matching his, and by the time he pulls up outside his own house again, we’re back to normal. Sort of. The pretend sort.
    Dan unlocks the door then stands aside to let me go in first. He takes my jacket and hangs it up next to his.
    “I changed my mind about the bed. I want you on my living room floor.”
    “Naked?”
    “Of course.”
    “But still tied up?”
    “Do you prefer to be tied?”
    “I do like it. Yes, Sir”
    “Thought so. Tied up then. And gagged. The peppermint goes in your arse this time. I’m expecting you to make a lot of noise and I prefer not to have my neighbors phoning the police. You have two minutes to get ready.” He turns on his heel and strides out. His footsteps on the stairs tell me all I need to know—he’s headed for the bathroom cabinet.
    When he returns a couple of minutes later, I’m kneeling on the sheepskin rug spread on the hardwood floor, in front of the fireplace. I’m naked, naturally. Dan merely nods his approval as he walks into the room, passing me as he heads for the low table beside the sofa. He deposits a small bottle there, a bottle I recognize.
    “I’ll be using the peppermint oil as lube. On this.” He holds out a butt plug. It’s made of glass, and looks to be larger than any he’s put inside me previously. I’m not troubled by it, though. His cock is thicker, and I can accept that without any real problem. If he’s careful, and I’m well