Free Domination Sex: Conditioned Response by Erika Masten Page B

orgasm
after orgasm on them all night. I just wanted… I don’t
know…
    There was silence between us for two
days, before a bouquet of roses arrived with a note apologizing for
assuming too much, moving too fast. It was slow getting back to
normal, with months of dancing nervously around one another at
parties and barbeques and over group road trips. And I was anxious
as hell about bringing new boyfriends around the group, until Jay
brought his own girlfriend around. Since then, we’ve settled back
into our friendly banter, though I don’t think Jay has ever really
liked most of the guys I’ve been dating.
    My doorbell ringing literally makes me
jump, and I want to curse at whoever is making that nerve-jarring
noise. The clock tells me I’ve been sitting here in a daze,
thinking about Jay and my checkered college years, for more than
forty-five minutes.
    I frown suddenly, at the thought that
maybe it’s Robert outside. It surprises me that I don’t leap up to
answer the door at this possibility. Maybe…maybe because I can’t
get the sound of Jay calling Robert a prick out of my head. Jay
would so disapprove of me cowing to Robert after everything, after
Robert cheated on me briefly last year, after we talked about
moving in together only to have him back out, and now after he
broke up with me and showed up with another woman at a party being
thrown by my best friend for people he only knows through
me.
    After wiping at my eyes one more time
and smoothing my tousled hair, I stumble across the room, my legs
stiff from being curled to my chest for so long. I answer the bell
to find Jay leaning outside my door glowering. He must have gone
straight from his office to Julie’s party, I think to myself,
seeing him still in his tailored black suit. My gaze homes in on
the dark red tie knotted under his collar. It’s the same one from
that weekend. My stomach flutters inside me at this thought. Why
would I even remember that?
    “You’re not out celebrating your
break-up with the golden boy,” Jay drawls with the hint of a sneer,
looking down his perfect roman nose at me. “How did I
guess?”
    I step out of the way in a weary
gesture of invitation. Jay stalks in ahead of me, but as soon as I
close the door, he rears and turns on me.
    “What the hell is wrong with you,
Emma?” I’ve never seen Jay this pissed off at me. Annoyed is bad
enough. The force of his anger, without him so much as clenching
his fist or even raising his voice, is palpable. It’s the way he
narrows his eyes and sets his jaw. It’s the tension in his body,
like he’s gearing up to pounce.
    I put one hand over my face and wander
past Jay back to the couch. “Please, do we have to do this now? You
have no idea what this has been like for me today.” You have no
idea I thought I was about to get engaged.
    “Oh, yes,” Jay snips as I drop down
onto the couch with a heavy sigh, and his tone makes me do
double-take. This is the man who comforted me all night in
college?
    “No idea,” he continues. “This is
nothing like last year, before Robert, when Sam slapped you in the
back yard at Julie’s birthday party and you begged everyone to
forgive him because he was drunk and thought you were flirting with
me. You didn’t eat for four days after he dumped you.”
    It had taken three of our friends to
pull Jay off him.
    “And this is nothing like Bruce. How
much was it he put on your credit card before he took off to Vegas
with his ex? Three thousand dollars? Four thousand? But you
wouldn’t press charges against him.”
    As much as I want to go
back a few years and cry into Jay’s chest, I dart to my feet and
point my finger at him. “That’s not fair. Kick me while I’m down,
why don’t you? I didn’t press charges because it was too damn
embarrassing to admit I’d let him use me like that, but I certainly
didn’t moon over him afterward. And, yes, Robert might turn out to
be just another cheating jerk. I’ll get over it. But,