Page 9

Chapter Nine

M illy was sitting with Grandma that evening. I liked her, more importantly, Grandma did. Although she thought Milly was her granddaughter. I bathed, shaved off all unwanted hair, plucked my eyebrows so badly they ended up wonky, and I had to infill with a pencil, and moisturised my whole body. I had the one pair of decent knickers that I put on and then slipped the dress over my head.

As before, I loved it. I loved the way it clung to my body, how it shimmered when I moved. More so, I loved the way it made me feel. I felt way older than my nineteen years... I pulled myself up short. It was my birthday! I was twenty years old that day, no longer a teenager. I fought back a tear, no one would have sent me card anyway. Grandma wouldn’t have remembered, of course.

‘Shit,” I said, annoyed at myself. I didn’t do emotion. I rubbed my eyes and then started to apply some makeup.

I hadn’t worn makeup in years and what I had was cloggy and old. I used a little concealer and then rubbed it off. I didn’t have any blemishes or dark circles to conceal. I swiped some mascara over my lashes and some gloss over my lips. I guessed the one thing I could thank my mother for was good skin. I had a few freckles over my nose that were more pronounced in the summer when I tanned.

I slipped on the red shoes and stared at myself in the full-length mirror. The shoes extended my legs, defined my calf muscles. I was sure I’d turn an ankle and hoped that we didn’t have to walk far. I decided I needed a bag and opened a chest to grab one of Grandma’s. I’d pop some flip flops in for when the heels became too much. Then I was ready.

I grabbed keys and my phone. Sat with Grandma for a few minutes before I heard the roar of an engine outside. I knew it would be Sebastian without having to look.

“Have a good evening,” Milly said, and I kissed Grandma on her forehead .

“You look just like my Ruby,” she said, and I thanked her.

There was a knock on the front door, and I took a deep breath before opening it. Sebastian stood there in black trousers and a black shirt. No tie and no jacket.

“You look like a gangster,” I said, chuckling.

“And you look amazing, too,” he replied.

“Sorry. I’m digging the goth look,” I said, waving my hand over his body.

“Get in the car, Ruby,” he said with a sigh.

He held open the Ferrari door and I slid in. “What about the seats?” I asked before he closed the door.

“What about them?”

“Won’t this scratch the leather?”

“So what if it does?”

He closed the door and I waited until he’d opened his. “You are very much into disposable, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” He looked at me as he started the engine.

“You’re very... So what if it does ?”

He frowned at me. “What on earth are you on about now? If the leather gets scratched, then it gets scratched. I don’t sweat the small stuff, Ruby.”

“A cow died for this,” I replied, pushing my luck a little.

“R.I.P that cow. Now’s lets go eat steak to make ourselves feel better about its demise. ”

I giggled at his response. He started to pull away as I was putting on the seatbelt.

“Oh, it’s my birthday today,” I said, not sure why I wanted him to know.

He slammed on the brakes, and I lurched forward.

“Why didn’t you say?”

“I just did. I only just remembered.”

“You only just remembered?” He turned to look at me.

“Erm... Well, I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not important.”

“Of course it’s important. It’s your birthday. I would have liked to have known.”

“Sorry, do you need my menstrual schedule as well?”

“No, there’s nothing more erotic than the thought of fucking you while you’re bleeding. So if you tell me, I’ll get hard and that won’t be comfortable.”

I held up both hands and shuddered.

“Now, put your seat belt on. We’re going to celebrate your birthday.”

He pulled away so fast I slammed into the back of the seat. He laughed while I grumbled.

We pulled up outside a swish restaurant with a doorman. It had blacked-out windows, so I couldn’t see inside. I couldn’t make out the name, either.

“What does that say?” I asked, looking up .

“I have no idea. Apparently, it’s a thing just to have a symbol.”

“No good if someone is googling for it.”

I waited until he opened my door, and he held out his hand for me to take. He helped me stand, and I was extra glad. It was hard enough to get out in flats, let alone heels. I stood and looked up at him. I still only came up to his shoulders. He closed the door and locked the car, leaving it on the yellow lines.

“You’ll need to hold my hand,” I whispered.

“Scared?”

“No, I can’t walk in these things,” I replied. “And scared. I don’t remember the last time I ate out in a place I wasn’t working.”

He squeezed my hand as we entered.

“Mr. Wolfe,” someone said, and a shortish man come running over.

He greeted Sebastian with an enthusiastic handshake. Sebastian didn’t look overly amused. “Come. I have a wonderful table for you.”

He first led us to one in the middle of the restaurant. I watched as people turned to look and stare at us.

“Somewhere a little more private?” Sebastian asked.

“Of course, sure, sure,” came the reply. The man scuttled off in front of us.

We came to a more suitable table along the wall. “This is much better, thank you,” Sebastian said .

The man pulled my chair out for me, and I sat, smoothing the sequins as I did. I crossed my ankles, a throwback to when Grandma would correct my posture as a child. I recalled her words.

Una dama nunca cruza las piernas, solo los tobillos , she’d say.

“What’s funny?” he asked, taking the seat in front of me.

“I just remembered something my grandma used to say. A lady never crosses her legs, just her ankles. She used to get mad at me for slouching.”

“A wise woman. I don’t want you to cross your legs, either.”

I squinted at him. “For posture reasons?”

“No, for accessibility,” he said, and then laughed.

I was handed a menu and was glad! I used it to fan my face.

“Would you let me order for you?” he asked. I squinted at him again. “I want you to try things I don’t think you would have.”

“What if I don’t like them?”

“Then you don’t like them.”

I placed the menu down on the table. “Okay.”

He smiled. “It pleases me that you trust me, Ruby.”

“Well, I’m super glad about that.” I reminded myself I needed to lower the sarcasm notch just a little.

A waitress came by, and he ordered a bottle of white wine. He looked at me as he did and I nodded, pleased to have been included in at least what I drank. He also asked for a bottle of mineral water.

“I do wish I’d known it was your birthday,” he said.

“Why? What does it matter? I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated a birthday. I only know the date because I have to renew my passport and visa,” I replied.

“Visa?”

“Oh, I wasn’t born here. I have dual nationality, though, and can work here. My mother was English, and my father was Spanish.”

“What happened to your parents?”

A shiver rolled over me. I shrugged my shoulders and looked around the room. He reached forward and covered one of my hands. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

I smiled and nodded my thanks.

“We’re very much the same, Ruby. Cut from the same cloth, just a decade apart.” He chuckled and I joined in.

“Does it bother you? I mean, people do think I’m your daughter?” I asked.

“No, I don’t care what people think, only what they do.”

“It’s a defence mechanism, isn’t it?” I added, quietly.

He was stopped from answering by the return of the waitress. She poured a small amount of wine into his glass, and he tasted. He kept his gaze on me while he sipped. Then he simply nodded. She half filled my glass, then his, before returning the bottle to an ice bucket.

“Shall I pour the water?” she asked.

“No, leave it there,” he replied. No please or thank you offered. “What?”

“You are rude sometimes,” I said, chuckling.

“Says Miss-fucking-Rudeness personified.” I laughed and he smiled. “Yes, sometimes I am. I don’t mean to be. I’m a demanding man, I guess.”

“I guess we are cut from the same cloth in that regard.”

“What do you demand, Ruby?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“Honesty and loyalty, nothing more.”

“That’s the least you should expect, isn’t it?” he asked.

“If I don’t expect , then I can’t be let down,” I replied. “What about you?”

“The same, I guess. Honesty is important to me, but I also understand some secrets can’t be told.”

“Are you a one-woman man, Sebastian?” My voice had lowered.

“Yes... And no. It depends.”

“On what?”

“On who I’m with and what the relationship is. Not every relationship I’ve had requires monogamy. ”

“What do you do for fun?” I asked, changing the subject as the image of Amelia sprung to mind.

“Fun? Mmm. I drive fast cars, sometimes around a track. I fuck, I like doing that,” he said, starting to rub his chin as if thinking. “I read.”

I wasn’t expecting that one. “You read? What?”

“Books, Ruby. You should try it. It’s therapeutic.”

“I didn’t see any books in your house.”

“You saw a hallway and bedroom, that’s all. Perhaps we’ll have a tour after...”

I raised my eyebrows. “You said you’d take me home.”

“And I will, if that’s what you want.”

The waitress took his order, he didn’t consult the menu once and I wanted to heave at his suggestion of oysters. “Try everything once,” he said, noticing the look on my face.

“What have you not tried, then?” I asked, leaning forward on the table.

“Lots of things, but this isn’t about me,” he replied. He moved closer, his body position mirroring mine.

“Okay, I’ll try,” I said, lowering my voice.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

“I like it when you say that,” I whispered back.

“If it wasn’t for your sarcasm, you’d make a good submissive,” he replied, probably a little louder than I would have liked .

I chuckled as the couple on the table next to us looked aghast.

“What is a submissive? Like, what do you do to them?”

“You are curious, aren’t you?”

“Yes. But don’t get the wrong idea, I don’t want to be one.”

“So, what is a submissive? In real general terms here, because it’s not a straight forward answer, but it’s a person who wants to be led, guided, told what to do. A sub is someone who obeys.”

“What do they get out of it?”

“Sexual pleasure. There are people that live a sub and Dom lifestyle, I don’t. And there are people that like to take on those roles for their sexual pleasure. You got pleasure from being spanked, didn’t you?”

Wide-eyed, I looked around. Thankfully, no one had heard that comment.

“But I bet you also got pleasure from the anticipation. You ran when you knew you’d earned three strikes, yet no one had told you what that specifically meant. For some, the anticipation of what comes if they don’t obey is the ultimate thrill. That’s where you’d fit in.”

“And for you?” I asked, becoming slightly breathless.

“I like the power. I like to know that I am pleasing you in every way you desire without even knowing what it is that you want. I get pleasure from you doing what I ask of you.”

“Are there any books that you’ve read that would explain it to me?”

“Perhaps, I’ll have a look.”

“I think we need to also change the subject,” I said, laughing, and waving my hand in front of my face to cool me down.

“Exploring your sexuality, your desires and wants, is what you should be doing, Ruby,” he said, then sat back.

“Well, right now, I’m going to either explore the inside of the toilet bowl or hump your leg. The oysters are on the way.”

His laughter was not only infectious but caused all the surrounding tables to look over and smile.

The waitress placed a metal stand in the middle of the table. She then laid a silver salver full of seafood on top. Some looked delicious, others, not so. We had a large finger bowl to share and extra napkins.

“There’s something special about eating with your hands,” Sebastian said.

“Mmm, says the man who didn’t have to scrape around the floor for food, I bet. I’ll have the luxury of a fork if that’s okay.”

“I told you before, don’t judge me. You don’t know what I’ve gone through myself.”

Suitably chastised, I nodded my head by way of an apology. “So, how do I do this?” I asked, picking up an oyster.

He gave me a choice of items to add to the oyster, I chose red wine vinegar. He then ate one himself. Well, I say ate, he tipped it down his throat.

“So you don’t actually eat them?”

“Sort of. Just put it in your mouth, let it sit there for a moment, then decide to chew or swallow.”

“Sounds rude,” I replied, but then did as instructed.

I wasn’t sure at first. I think it was the texture, a snotty like substance that sat on my tongue. Until the taste kicked in. I chewed and then swallowed.

“Wow. It’s like... It’s like fresh seaside air. Salty, but not like the sea.”

It was hard to articulate, but I wanted another.

“Wait,” he said, and then stood. He moved his chair, so he was beside me, not opposite.

He picked up an oyster and dressed it. He then held my chin, tilting my head up. “Open,” he said, quietly.

I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. He poured the oyster in. Before I could close my mouth, his lips covered mine. His tongue joined mine and he kissed me while I swallowed.

“Wow,” I said, when he pulled away.

He smirked at me. “More?”

“Oh yeah.” I nodded.

I ate another two oysters, opting to leave him at least one. And then we moved on to the clams and crab. He cracked the shell of the crab and dug out the flesh with his fingers. He offered those to my lips, and I sucked them in. He fed me the clams and licked the juice that ran down my chin.

“People are going to talk,” I whispered.

“Let them.”

“You’re quite the exhibitionist, aren’t you?”

“Not normally,” he replied, chuckling.

With our starters finished, he moved back to his original place. I’d rather he stayed put but didn’t tell him so.

The second course was a delicate white fish, samphire, and spinach, with crushed potatoes.

“I thought we were getting the cow,” I said, looking at the plate.

“If you want cow we can order it,” he said.

“I’m kidding. This looks good.”

As we ate, he told me a little about his businesses.

“I worked three, four jobs, and I was homeless. I saved as much money as I could until I could get into a hostel. I fucking hated it there. Drug addicts, drunks, paedophiles praying on kids.”

He paused, taking in a deep breath, the memory obviously painful.

“Anyway, I worked day and night, did whatever I could, sometimes not even legal, to get money. Eventually, I had enough to put down a deposit on a rundown house, but I knew I’d never get a mortgage. Then I met my benefactor. A man called Simon Morton. A successful man who offered me a way out. He backed me, he funded the renovation of the house and I did all the work; I went to night school to learn how to build things and called in contractors when I couldn’t do it. Eventually, I had a house that I sold. I paid him back with interest. I didn’t make a lot of money, but I learned a great deal.”

“What happened next?” I asked.

We ate and talked. He told me that Simon then funded the next project, and the one after that, until he’d sold a property for such a profit, he no longer need Simon’s money.

“Sadly, he died, a few years ago now. By then I owned five, could have been six, properties I rented out. He left me some money, but I gave it all to charity. He also left me a letter. He told me that one day, when I found the right person, I was to do the same. I had the ability to change a life, like he had done for me.”

“Is that me?” I asked.

“No, there were others that came before you. You, Ruby, you’re different. I don’t want to help you because I feel I ought to, because that’s what Simon would expect of me. I want to do it for very different reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“Another time. Now I want to know about you. ”

“There isn’t much to tell. My mum died, she was a drug addict and alcoholic but I loved her. My dad sold our house and fucked off with the money.”

“See, cut from the same cloth.”

“What about your parents?” I asked.

“I don’t remember them. I was in care for most of my childhood.”

“Have you ever been curious about them?”

He sighed. “Not really. I’ve got this far without them.”

“What about marriage, kids?”

“I thought we were talking about you?”

He had finished eating and laid his cutlery down to top up our wine.

“I think I’d like to get married, but that’s probably more about stability. I’m not sure on kids, though,” I said, honestly. “Maybe we’ve both seen the worst of society. Why on earth would we bring children into that?”

I saw the flinch, the rapid blink, and knew I’d said the wrong thing.

It was fleeting, though. He raised his glass to me and smiled. “To curiosity,” he said.

I wonder if sex was where he felt the most comfortable, where he felt safe, which was why he brought it all back there when things got awkward.

With the table cleared, we opted for coffee instead of dessert. I didn’t think I could fit another thing in my stomach,

“You can dance it off later,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s your birthday, the evening isn’t over yet.”

“I don’t do clubbing, if that’s what you mean. More so in these shoes. If I dance, I’ll kill myself,” I said, laughing.

We asked for the bill and didn’t look at it, he just laid his credit card on top. While I finished my coffee, he paid.

“Come,” he said, holding out his hand. Once again, we were watched as we left the restaurant.

His car was where he’d left it, and without a ticket. “See, gangster. Only the mob would get away with no parking tickets,” I said as he opened the door.

“We don’t use that term in the UK, Ruby,” he replied, then slammed the door before I could respond.

I was still straightening my dress and buckling up when he started the car and pulled out into the traffic. It was heavy, thankfully, so there was no roaring around. He drove for about ten minutes, until we pulled into a familiar alley.

“I thought...” I wasn’t sure what I thought, but I hadn’t expected that.

“Trust me.”

He left the car, opened my door, and we walked in. Instead of climbing the stairs, we headed through another door, one I hadn’t noticed before.

Music blasted, the floor throbbed with the beat, and people danced. It was my worst nightmare. I clung to his side, burying my face in his arm. I didn’t do crowds.

“It’s okay, just walk with me,” he said. I scuttled along beside him.

In my peripheral vision, I saw a lift. It opened and we stepped in. Only when the doors shut did I look up and take in a deep breath.

“I told you, I don’t do clubbing,” I said.

“And we’re not.”

The lift took seconds to open to a mezzanine floor. There were floor to ceiling glass panels, which deadened the noise. I could look down on the club below, but not have that throb in my chest from the speakers. However, there was a small dancefloor, a bar, sofas, and booths. And there were people, but ones much older than the teens downstairs. It was a club, but way more refined. Sebastian unhooked a red rope and ushed me in. It led to a private booth. A waiter came immediately and placed water, soft drinks, a bottle of whiskey, and wine on the side next to a large bucket of ice and glasses. He left us to help ourselves.

“This is much better,” I said, running my hand over the smooth velvet of the couch .

“I want to watch you dance,” he said, and his voice had taken on that husky tone.

“What if I can’t? That would be a let-down,” I chuckled while also feeling extremely self-conscious.

“Then sway. Move. Do something. I want to watch you in that dress.”

“What about other people?”

“They’ll be leaving soon.”

“You’re going to chuck them out just so you can ogle me?”

“No, they will voluntarily leave to head upstairs. It’s what they do.”

I glanced around. “Everyone looks... normal,” I said, leaning close to him.

“What did you expect them to look like? I believe you saw some of them naked just the other day.”

“Oh, fuck,” I replied, lowering my gaze so as not to catch anyone’s eye.

“Drink,” he said, and he handed me a glass of wine. He poured himself a whiskey.

As predicted, people started to leave. It wasn’t a mad rush, some stood and walked away, others finished their drinks. Sebastian called over the waiter.

“Music, then shut this place down. I want some privacy. You can head upstairs or take an early night.”

“Of course, Mr. Wolfe.”

He left and started to turn off the main lights. It left just a subtle glow from the booths. Music drifted around the room. It wasn’t the thump thump of club sounds, but the kind one could sway their body to.

Sebastian stood. “Dance for me,” he said, holding out his hand.

I chuckled nervously. I didn’t dance. Well, I could, but not brilliantly I didn’t think. But I could move my body in a way he’d like. I’d auditioned to cage dance at the club I cleaned but had backed out at the last minute. My nerves just wouldn’t let me, despite the money I could have earned. He took my hand and led me to the middle of the floor.

He didn’t leave, initially. He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled into my neck. We swayed from side to side, he placed his leg between mine. He ran one hand up and down my bare back, causing the hairs to stand on end and me to shiver.

We danced for a couple of songs until the tempo changed. He then stood back. He watched me for a few seconds, then walked to the edge of the dance floor. He pulled a chair over and sat.

I had danced on my own, normally when I was hoovering, but that was a shake of the butt type dance. However, with Sebastian watching me, I wanted to dance. I wanted to move my body in such a way it aroused him. I was doing what he asked of me, what his sub would do. I was obeying, but, and I smiled at the thought, it was I who held the power. I could make it good, or not.

I chose good.

I lost myself in the music. I closed my eyes and kicked off my shoes. I danced like I hadn’t danced before, just moving in time with the music. I sang the words I knew. I felt him behind me, his hands on my hips and his breath on my shoulder. I leaned back into him, and we swayed together. He slid his hands up to my waist, dragging my dress with them. I didn’t care.

I had zoned into a place I hadn’t ventured before. It was just about me, feeling the music. It was just about him, feeling me.

He moved my hair over one shoulder and kissed the other. I could feel his erection through his trousers pressing into the small of my back. I wished I’d kept the shoes on, I would have felt him against my arse. I reached behind me, placing one hand on his cheek, he turned and kissed my palm. I wanted more.

I turned in his arms and placed my hand on his chest. I stared at him, not saying a word as I walked him back to the chair and he sat. I slid my knickers down and stepped out of them, I then straddled his lap.

While he fumbled with his zipper, I held his face and kissed his lips. I took what I wanted, what I needed, and I felt no shame about it.

When his cock was free, I lowered. The sigh that left my body was one of full contentment. I felt full and for a moment, I sat still. When I moved, it was slow. I wanted to feel him at my very core, deep and hot. He held my hips and stared at me. He didn’t blink, neither did I. His lips parted and ran his tongue over his lower one. I wanted to suck that tongue into my mouth. Instead, I kissed his neck, I trailed my tongue up to his earlobe and gently bit. When he moaned, I moved faster, slamming myself down on him harder and harder. I kissed his throat when he threw his head back. I bit his skin as he had done mine, leaving a mark. He grabbed my arse, digging his fingers into my flesh, bruising me, and then he stood. It took me by surprise at first. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Still inside me, he walked to the glass panel. He fucked me against it.

I had no idea if anyone could see us, and I didn’t care. In that moment, nothing mattered but him, but us.

He slammed me so hard I worried the glass might give way. My dress scratched against it. Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his temple. I licked it away while he groaned more.

I was desperate to come and by the way he bit down hard on his lower lip, so was he. He tried to pull out, I tightened my legs around him. I needed to feel him pulse inside me, give me all he could.

When he came, he growled out my name. It was the most erotic sound I’d heard. He lived up to his name. He bared his teeth, he narrowed his eyes, and while he pumped inside me, he sunk those teeth into my shoulder.

I couldn’t catch my breath, and when I lowered my legs, they shook. I buried my face into his chest, his shirt damp with his exertion.

“Ruby,” he said, gently, but with a husky tone.

I shook my head. I didn’t want to look up. I wanted to stay where I was.

He stepped back a little and I felt his fingertips under my chin. He lifted my face. A tear left one eye and he kissed it away.

“That was amazing,” he whispered.

I smiled gently and nodded. I didn’t think I’d find my voice for a while.

He tucked his cock back into his trousers and then pulled me to his chest again. He just held me, and I felt his come start to seep out.

“I need to clean up,” I said, and chuckled.

He stepped back and I crossed my legs. He laughed. “Wait here,” he said.

“I’m not sure I can go anywhere right now,” I replied, also with a husky voice.

He headed to the bar and returned with a wad of napkins. “Crass, but all I could find.”

He stood staring at me. “Turn around,” I said.

He still stared at me. “Are you kidding me?” he asked. He snatched the wad from my hand and shoved them between my thighs. He cleaned me and I held on to his arms.

He returned the wad to the bar and deposited it in the bin. I walked over to where I’d left my underwear and shoes. I slipped them all on.

When he returned, he cupped my cheeks with his hands. “ You are amazing,” he said.

“Did anyone see us?” I asked.

He shook his head. “One way glass.”

I closed my eyes and sighed with relief. “I didn’t think we were going to do this.”

“All I promised you, Ruby, was that I’d take you home. I didn’t make any mention of not fucking you. But, in this instance, I think it’s you who fucked me.”

I giggled. “I do need to go home, though.”

We walked in silence back down to the car. It was a cold night and I shivered while he opened the door. I was grateful that the engine produced enough heat almost instantly to take off the chill. Too soon, we were outside my house. I could see that Grandma’s side light was on, she’d been put to bed. That pang of guilt washed over me.

“Don’t over think it, Ruby,” he said, quietly.

I nodded. “Thank you for a wonderful birthday. It’s probably the best I’ve ever had.”

He didn’t speak and I missed him when he left the car. He walked me to the door but declined my offer of coffee.

“I think we need some space, don’t we?” he whispered, and I nodded. “Although soon, I want you for the whole night, Ruby. I want to fall sleep beside you, wake up next to you.”

Tears filled my eyes knowing how unlikely that was to happen. But I nodded anyway. It would be a nice dream to have.

He kissed me gently on the lips and wished me a good night. I stepped inside and closed the door.

I walked into the living room and gently woke Milly. She had dozed off in her chair. She apologised profusely; I waved that apology away. It was okay to doze, I told her. She collected her bag and left.

Alone, all I could do was think. I could smell his aftershave on me. I could feel his come still on my thighs. I felt the sting where he’d marked me. I headed for the bathroom. I needed a bath to calm me, hot water to soothe me. And then I needed the sleep of the dead. Exhaustion had washed over me.

Sunday was uneventful initially. That was until lunchtime. I heard a knock on the door and opened it to see a beautiful bouquet of flowers. I took the flowers into the kitchen and opened the card.

Happy belated birthday, Ruby. Thank you for last night. I won’t see you today, but I wanted to wish you good luck for tomorrow. I will call tonight, if that’s okay. Seb xx

Again, that shortening of his name and two kisses. I didn’t think I could call him Seb; he was a Sebastian to me. He was too full on for a nickname.

The temptation to call him or text was strong, but I waited until he called me, as he’d said. I wondered if there was a reason he couldn’t see me, yet I appreciated that. Time spent with him was intense and when he’d said we needed some space, I’d agreed wholeheartedly. I also had to consider that we’d had unprotected sex. I was on the pill, which is why I didn’t care that we had no condom. I also believed him to be healthy, but it wasn’t a conversation I was comfortable having yet knew I’d have to.

Sebastian called me that evening. I had been in bed for about an hour just reading a book I’d found on a bus some time ago.

“Hi,” he said, when I answered.

“Hey, how are you?” I asked.

“Lonely, how about you.”

I chuckled, assuming he was joking. “In bed. How about you read a book, that’s what I’m doing. ”

“How about you read to me,” he replied.

“I can’t, it’s rude.”

“Even better,” he said.

I giggled. “I’m too embarrassed.”

“Then I’ll read to you. Wait there.”

I heard a rustling, movement, and then he was back on the line. “Let me tell you about Little Red Riding Hood,” he said.

His voice was seductive, for sure. He wasn’t talking about a little girl in a red cloak, but a woman in a red dress and high heels. She was walking through the woods to Grandma’s cottage, and she heard him whispering to her. He told me what the whispers were.

I shivered as he detailed all the things we’d done sexually, and all the things he wanted to do, I guessed. Little Red Riding Hood was desperate to get to the cottage because she knew that was where the big bad Mr. Wolfe is.

I closed my eyes and listened.

“She’s desperate to get to him, Ruby,” he said.

I slid my hand down my stomach and under my knickers. I could feel my wetness as I slid my fingers across my opening.

“Tell me more,” I asked breathlessly.

He told me what happens when Little Red Riding Hood gets to the cottage. How he first undresses her, sliding the red dress over her head and she’s standing naked in just the heels. He circles her, licking his lips, deciding what part of her body he wants to ravish first.

I moaned and slid two fingers inside me.

He detailed how he licks over her body, lowering himself to his knees before devouring her pussy. How he loves the taste of her, and how he intends to claim her as his.

I could feel my stomach tighten as my orgasm built.

Sebastian then told me how the big bad Mr. Wolfe fucks Little Red Riding Hood. And I came.

I moaned and called out his name. My cheeks flamed with heat and embarrassment. I’d never had phone sex before.

I sighed as I came back down to earth and turned on my side. He chuckled, gently.

“Was that good?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s the first time I’ve made myself come,” I confessed.

“I’d like to think I had a little part in that,” he replied, chuckling.

“You had a big part in it. I wish you were here.”

“I can be.”

I shook my head. “No, I think I need to sleep now.”

“I need to work. Sweet dreams, Little Red Riding Hood,” he said, and then disconnected the call.

That night I did dream, but there was nothing sweet about them. It was him in the woods, calling me, and my panic wasn’t because I was trying to run away, but I was trying to run to him. It was him that was just out of reach, not the cottage. I ran while wearing the red dress and heels. I didn’t fall once. I just never quite got to him.

I woke more frustrated than ever.