This was easily her most favorite place in the entire house. Gazing across the pool deck, umbrella shading her tender skin from the warm California sun, she paused in her writing to watch a sea-gull rise up and ride the wind that flowed constantly over the cliffs. In the three days she’d been here, she’d spent more time here than anyplace else in the house. It was a gorgeous house…but out here, in March, knowing that another storm was barreling towards Maine with its incipient threat of major snow? Made this place even more priceless. Cassandra had talked to her editor yesterday, effusive about the house, and how her writing had suddenly exploded.
“Well, I always say, setting is everything,” Amanda had said, laughter in her voice. “Met any neighbors yet?”
“No, everyone is leaving me alone, which is exactly what I need.”
“You know there’s a thriving D/s community in Opal Bay, right? I put all contact info into the email I sent you…”
“No, but thanks anyway. I’m not here to hook up, Mandy. Just …write.”
“One writes best from what one knows and experiences…just sayin’,” Amanda said, her voice carefully neutral. “It’s an option, kid. That’s all. In case the quiet gets to you.”
Cass knew that Mandy would go crazy in a place like this, needing the electric charge of being with others…the more the better. But she was happy here. It was secluded. It was peaceful. And okay, it was safe.
There was nothing wrong with any of those things. She shook her head, lost in thought. After a full minute of silence, Mandy spoke again.
“Get back to work then, girl, and stop blathering on so much.” Amanda’s throaty laugh negated the miles between them, Cassandra thought as she signed off. Wouldn’t Mandy’s eyes widen when she received her email tomorrow? She’d written a ton of pages already. This setting was proving invaluable for her concentration, and the ideas kept flowing. Oh, she knew Mandy would “red pen” those pages to death, that they’d argue and tussle over some of the content, but gosh the work was almost pouring out of her head and through her fingers. Oh, but it had been good to talk to someone who understood her. Good to reconnect with home. She could almost picture Amanda dressed in that silly anorak, cussing as she pushed snow off her car. Glancing at the glint of sun on the waves, feeling the heat rising from the stone of the terrace, she lay her head back and let the breeze cool the sweat on her neck. No, it was definitely better here!
From her head-tipped-backwards recline, she watched the gull soar, thinking again about the “thriving D/s community” that Mandy had oh-so-casually mentioned. Damn her. So, sure, she missed a good beating. A good fucking…the flying of those endorphins–
The chime of the doorbell startled her. Who could possibly be visiting her? Maybe someone was lost. She sat, debating whether to answer it or ignore it. Fuck it. She didn’t owe anyone anything. Sitting up, she tickled her laptop awake and went back to writing. Immediately she was sucked back into the sordid tale. Her heroine was currently being tied up and threatened by an evil Dom who had a history of killing his subs. It was her darkest tale to date, and she needed to find a way for the “good Dom” to sweep in and rescue her without it seeming weak. Or maybe the slut would rescue herself and then submit to the less “dreamy” but so much better for her Dom. There was something very sexy about a strong woman submitting to someone.
She jumped a foot. She’d heard the expression, had certainly written it, but never experienced it before now. She caught her laptop as it almost catapulted to the flagstone terrace. The terror of losing her data send a sudden flare of pure rage through her.
“W-what…who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?”
Adrenalin made her surge to her feet as she slid the computer safely back onto the table. He held up his hands in a “whoa there” gesture. And didn’t she wish she could stop scene writing at a time like this. Fear and nerves had her taking a step forward. Threatening. As if she, all of 5’2″ could take down this giant of a man. Okay, maybe not a Hulk kind of giant, but he was very tall.
“Actually,” he said, his voice somewhat apologetic, “it’s my house.”
She paused, the scowl freezing on her face.
“You own Infinity.”
“So you have a key.”
“Ergo your ….entry…to my fortress of solitude.”
“Superman? My how you’ve changed.”
And he laughed. She wished he hadn’t done that. He was wickedly attractive when he smiled that way. And he got her unintended Superman joke.
She shook her head, almost bit her lip to keep from laughing with him. Yes. Dangerous to encourage him.
“Well, thanks for visiting. Things are good and your home…my home for now…is perfect.”
“Pushy little thing aren’t you.”
“Well, I’m working…”
“Looked like daydreaming to me.”
“That’s half of writing you know. Background music, visual distractions, flights of fancy…”
The gull rose up the cliff soaring over their heads and called out in sheer joy. Her eyes slid from the mans and watched the bird ride the air. Looking at it for a minute or more, she almost forgot for a moment that she was not alone. If Allison could control her muscles the way that gull did, she could loosen the bindings on her wrists by tensing and flexing…sure! And that was how she could release herself, and yet still get rescued by Alex as she fled Dr. Monroe. The gull moved out of her visual range. She started to move to the table to get this new idea down while it glowed like a diamond in her mind. And saw the man still there, watching her.
“Oh. You’re still here.”
And he was watching her very intently. His eyes were taking her in, his lips curved in a very attractive half-moon.
“I need to get back to my heroine. She’s in mortal danger….”
“I like your stories.”
She stepped away from him, back towards the table. The muse was all but biting her ass.
“Look, if you go away now, we can chat and I can pretend to be sociable later. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow…I’m in the flow and you’re…”
“I’m the rock redirecting it. Got it. Friday is coming, in case you’re unaware of the days. I’ll see you then.”
“Sure. Sunset or something. Bring your suit. We can swim while we talk. No sex. I’m not here for that. Nor should you be.”
“No, of course not. And…sorry. I don’t…no. Not the pool. I’ll bring the wine.”
He turned. She watched as he moved through the kitchen and out of her sight, then sat and began typing furiously.