I got this post up a bit late. Sorry about that. It’s been a CRAZY week! I’m so glad it’s come to an end though. If you missed last week’s start to this story, make sure to check it out! ~Jayden
“You know, Jenna,” he said when I walked into the restaurant, “if you were going to blackmail me for dinner, I would have expected at least a high-end chain restaurant, if not something actually fancy.”
“Hi, Kody,” I said, “I wasn’t trying to blackmail you into anything.”
“Pity,” he said, and he gave me that same smirk I remembered from all those years ago. Damn, it was still hot.
He went up to the host stand and got us a table.
“After you,” he said, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.
I chose the side of the table that afforded me a view of the room, and he didn’t protest. He slid into the booth opposite me and picked up the menu. I did the same, hiding behind it. I knew what I wanted the moment I’d picked the restaurant.
“What’s good here?” he asked.
“I like their French toast,” I said.
He put the menu down. “Jenna, I’m going to start by saying that my wife knows I’m here, and she knows that I’m meeting you.”
“And she doesn’t care?”
He shrugged. “She’s not thrilled that I’m taking another woman out to dinner, but she understands my,” he hesitated before landing on the word, “needs.”
“And what needs are those, Kody?” I asked.
“Well, aren’t we jumping right in?” he countered.
It was my turn to shrug. “You did, so I thought I might as well join you.”
He grinned this time. “Well, it boils down to this—“ he said, and then a young woman approached the table.
“Hi, I’m Karen. I’m going to be your server tonight. Can I get you something to drink?”
We ordered, and then she walked away. I looked at Kody pointedly, but he put up one finger to signal that he wanted to wait to resume the conversation. It turned out to be an appropriate choice since Karen was back with our drinks moments later.
The drinks took our focus for a moment, squeezing lemons and unwrapping straws, but then we were left staring at each other across the table.
“So, what it boils down to is that my wife is 100% vanilla. No part of her is kinky at all.”
“It is. We’ve tried and tried, but she just can’t do the things to me that I want her to.”
“And what things are those?”
He glanced around to be sure no one could overhear him. “I need to be used and abused. I need to be hurt. I need to be denied. I need to be made to feel like the little worthless bitch I am.”
“And you think I can do that?”
“I know you can. I saw your pictures on Fetlife, remember?”
I nodded. He was right. I had a profile. I could only assume that he had, in fact, found me. He was also right that I was dominant and that I liked to hurt men. But this was different. We had a history. “What would this look like?”
“We would get together once or twice a month, you could do whatever you wanted to me, and then you’d send me back to my wife.”
“You mean like, have sex?”
He shrugged. “We can, or you can withhold sex from me entirely if you want.”
I raised my eyebrows at him, and he blushed just a little.
“Listen, I’m desperate. I can’t keep going on like this, and my wife agreed. I just need someone who can help me. Someone who isn’t afraid to hurt me. Someone who won’t hesitate.”
The more I thought about it, the more appealing the situation sounded. I was actually less concerned with the idea that I wouldn’t be able to hurt him as much as I wanted to and more concerned with the idea that I would hurt him too much because I was still a bit bitter about the past. But I decided that I could probably walk the line okay, and honestly, he’d probably like it if I were a little meaner than I could have been. “Okay, Kody,” I said. “Let’s talk.”