Good Girl by Wright Susan

Author:Wright, Susan [Wright, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NBTR
Published: 2013-11-05T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Hunter hated to leave, but he had to go. “I’ll be back on Friday,” he told Kali, kissing her good-bye on Monday morning. He was going to pack his suitcase and fly to the foundry in Pittsburg to oversee the creation of the molds for the benches and sundial.

Kali was prim in her buttoned-up corporate suit, but her expression was adorably sad. Big round eyes and tremulous lips that he kept having to kiss rather than leave. Silent, wistful sadness that he couldn’t resist. He wanted to sweep her up and carry her off with him everywhere, and never let her out of his sight.

“You’re killing me!” he exclaimed, taking one more last rough kiss. Her eyes sparked in arousal. “That’s better, Kitty-cat. I’ll text you later.”

Hunter caught himself whistling on the way to the subway. It was his father’s happy whistle that he would sound out when he came home from a long trip. Suddenly Hunter was ten years old again, feeling relieved that his dad was home and would take care of the pesky problems in the house that he couldn’t quite handle, like the leak under the sink or his mom’s sad face.

Jesus, I’m letting her in deep, he thought. It was a lot really fast. But he had gambled everything to get Kali, letting her meet his brother and his friends as his girlfriend. They had been shocked at the way he acted with her, he could tell. None of the usual Master/slave rituals. Nothing of his sadistic side. That would scare her away, and he had barely gotten her back again. He wasn’t going to risk blowing it.

So when he had seen Minx slink into the bathroom after Kali, no doubt to whisper all sorts of insidious things to her, he bided his time. When Kali emerged, she didn’t say a word about it, much to his surprise. He liked it so much that she was able to deal with her own shit that he gave her the romantic weekend of her dreams. They had pancakes and the Times on Sunday morning and a long walk along the river that afternoon, ending up curled on the couch together.

Mostly he sketched her in every way possible. He nearly filled a whole pad with Kali—Kali sleeping, Kali drinking her coffee in the back window, Kali in the shower, Kali getting dressed. He kept taking off her clothes so he could draw her. She always laughingly protested, then she would stretch out like the cat she was named for, luxuriating in the feeling of his eyes on her. As he sketched her, his dick would harden, as if he was claiming her by putting down her lines on paper. He decided to do a whole series of sculptures of Kali lying in bed, all of his favorite poses, some in bondage and others with her hair tousled and sleepy eyes.

Plus there was sex, lots of it. Hunter kept it mostly vanilla, but he couldn’t help the rough stuff creeping in.

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