Chapter Two

THE SUN SHONE through the clouds, and Parker’s stomach was full of lead as she climbed the steps to the front door. The expensive-looking town house was gorgeous, set right off South Beach, all smooth glass and pale stone.

Everything had happened quickly. After she had signed up with the agency on Wednesday, her meeting had been set for Saturday. She’d hardly slept, hardly eaten, since.

Despite Marion’s reassurances that it would be okay, she was horribly nervous. She’d been up with the sun, digging in the deepest recesses of her closet, trying not to notice the empty wall where what little of Amanda’s clothes had lived at home were once kept.

The good jeans she had originally planned on wearing, once her sexy jeans, were a little too tight now. So she’d settled for the second best that still hugged her legs pleasingly, pairing them with a smooth silk blouse and high boots. With her golden hair blown out and softly curled and a little heavier makeup replacing her usual quick dash, she admittedly felt better about herself than she had in months.

Swallowing hard, she pressed the doorbell, studying the little metal box, waiting for someone to speak over the intercom. Who is this woman?

The door swung open. Her breath caught.

“Hi, can I help you?”

The young woman staring at her expectantly couldn’t be more than twenty-five years old. Parker’s heart plummeted. Does Miss Diaz live with her daughter?

Color and heat leaked onto her cheeks, and oh God, what am I doing?

“I’m here to see Miss Diaz… Maybe I got the address wrong?”

She gestured over her shoulder, offering what she hoped was a polite smile as she half turned to leave. I can’t do this.

“You’re in the right place. Come in.”

It wasn’t a request, and the young woman had already stepped back, pulling the door open wider, waiting for her to comply.

Reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, Parker thanked her and stepped inside, nervous.

She wasn’t sure she could do this, and she certainly wasn’t sure she could do it with the woman’s daughter in the house. Will we even do anything today? Is this just some sort of business meeting? She had no idea what to expect, and that scared her more than anything.

Following her through the house, Parker couldn’t help but notice the décor, cool and monochromatic with just a touch of opulence. Miss Diaz must have good taste.

“Please, have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

The young woman gestured to a dark leather couch. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a beautiful view out over the ocean. Parker was lost momentarily taking it all in.

“No thank you, I’m fine.” She smiled kindly, surprised when the girl took a seat on the sofa opposite her own. Is she planning on keeping me company until her mom gets here?

The girl was distracted by her phone, and Parker had time to study her. She was certainly beautiful: large brown eyes and silky mahogany hair hanging past her shoulders, her skin kissed a rich olive tone by the Miami sun.

“Sorry about that.”

Dark eyes snapped up to her face, and Parker was staggered by their intensity. The girl studied her, long and hard, shameless.

A black sundress clung tight to her slim figure. Though she was almost a head shorter than Parker, her legs seemed endless, her dress pulled high around her thighs as she sat back and watched Parker watching her.

“I, um…” God, where is this girl’s mother? “Is Miss Diaz home, or…?”

A smile broke across her beautiful face, something dark and devious inside it.

“She is.” She leaned back, licking her lips, slow and deliberate, predatory. “You’re looking at her, sweetheart.”

Parker’s heart stuttered in her chest, and she laughed, high and nervous.

“I’m sorry, you’re…”

“Kristina Diaz. Yes, I’m the one the agency sent you to see.”

Those eyes were on her again, and Parker burned in their gaze. Disbelief and embarrassment swallowed her. She was mortified. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

I am absolutely not going to cry.

Kristina was young, too young, and now Parker knew, she was lost at how she had ever missed it. She radiated confidence; she was magnetic. Those dark eyes studied her like they knew all her secrets, and in a way, they did.

“I… I’m sorry.” Parker was aware she probably seemed crazy, literally shocked silent. “I guess I expected you to be older.”

Kristina nodded, her hands clasped in her lap, legs crossed, still looking totally at ease as she watched Parker.

“I apologize for the surprise then.” She didn’t sound sorry one bit.

Parker searched for the words, for a way around this, through this, totally caught off guard. Kristina was gorgeous, Parker found her attractive, yet the realization made her feel guilty… I’m probably twice her age.

Kristina’s eyes glittered with obvious smugness, and Parker was suddenly angry in her embarrassment.

This girl was the embodiment of everything she had lost—youth, confidence, beauty, sensuality—and this all felt like another one of the universe’s sick jokes that seemed to be plaguing her of late.

“It was nice to meet you, Kristina. I appreciate your time.”

Hands on her knees, she pushed up to her feet. Something flashed across Kristina’s face, and then she was on hers too. Instead of stepping back to show her the door, she moved forward. She crossed the room into Parker’s space.

Parker wondered for a second if she was going to shake her hand.

“Is there a problem, Parker?”

Kristina wielded her name like a weapon, lips and teeth and tongue caressing it, her body maddeningly, obnoxiously, close in the suddenly hot room.

Parker fumbled for words.

“This isn’t going to work for me. I’m sorry…” Her voice was breathy, making what should have been a declaration almost a question.

“And why is that?” Kristina seemed totally undeterred.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

She shot the number back easily, eyes burning into Parker’s, full lips pursed, hands clasped between them.

“I should probably…” God, what am I doing?

“What are you insecure about?”

The question shocked and surprised her. She almost laughed, trying to defuse some of the tension in the room, but Kristina’s face was impassive, waiting, serious.

“Do you think I have nothing to offer you because I’m younger? Or are you worried what society would think of the age difference?” She paused to lick her lips. “Or is it that you don’t want to allow yourself this, you’re embarrassed and don’t feel worthy?”

She stepped even closer, her voice dropping to something rich, dark, and Parker was caught, confused, ashamed, and embarrassed because something low in her stomach was turning molten at the sound.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Parker. From what I saw online you’re also successful and seem stable.”

She’d researched her? She’d known she was older and still agreed to meet?

“Not everyone is worthy of you, but I’d like a chance to prove to you I am. In a Dom/sub relationship, contrary to popular belief, the submissive has all the power.”

Parker’s heart was beating fast, hard. Had Kristina stepped even closer? She didn’t understand, not any of it. Not why this gorgeous twenty-four-year-old was looking up at her with hungry eyes, not how the person being controlled could have all the power, and it must have showed on her face.

“Can I take this?”

Kristina reached out to finger the strap of her purse with her tan hand, tracing its length, caressing up and over her shoulder as she followed its path. It was an effort not to shudder under the touch.

She warred with herself. She couldn’t do this. She felt pale, old, used up next to Kristina in all her youthful beauty, but those dark eyes were on her and she had no clear plan to escape without it becoming extremely awkward.

Parker nodded, shrugging her shoulder and helping the woman strip the purse away. With it deposited on the ground, Kristina was back, closer. The same fingers that had touched her returned to her shoulder. They trailed slow, deliberate, across her collarbone and down between the valley of her breasts.

Parker heard her own breath catch, but there was no blood left to spill onto her cheeks, all of it already collecting lower, deep in her stomach, between her legs.

“You’re a powerful and attractive woman.” That hand settled on her hip and squeezed softly, holding her in place. Their bodies were inches apart. When Kristina looked up from studying her own hand on her, Parker ached to kiss her. She ached for something, anything to break the tension, the anticipation drowning her.

“I’d like to earn your trust”—Kristina’s voice spilled into something darker—“I want you confident, I want you to understand exactly how much power you have, and then I want you submissive for me.”

She was looking up at Parker through thick lashes, and Parker felt Kristina’s breath against her lips. Her body was alive, screaming, burning, awoken after years of accidental lockdown. She didn’t remember the last time her heart had raced like this, the last time a touch, even just soft fingers on her hip, had made her skin burn. She was breathing hard. Kristina was close enough to kiss, and she wished she would just do it.

Her mind still grappled with how this woman could want her, but the charge between them was undeniable, and Kristina’s dark eyes studied her like she was something precious.

Kristina wet her lips, and then she was leaning closer. Parker’s heart thundered in her ears. She felt light, weightless, and so desperately hot, tight, wanting. Her eyes fell closed right before their lips could touch.

“The safe word is ‘red.’ Do you understand?”

The barest brush of those full lips as she whispered the words, and Parker swallowed hard.

“Yes.”

When she opened her eyes Kristina had pulled back, though she still looked up at her with a dizzying intensity.

“Yes, Mistress.”

The correction made Parker’s head swim. She wanted to blush, to laugh with nerves, but the girl was completely serious, and waiting.

She dipped her eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to collect herself.

“Yes…Mistress.”

Shame burst in her chest, but then Kristina was close to her again, one hand snaking up her body, fingers tangling soft in the hair at the base of her neck.

“Good girl.”

God, I like that. Parker’s stomach muscles jumped embarrassingly in response. Kristina’s eyes fell to them and then rose back to her face, a wicked smile kissing her lips.

“Will you stay for fifteen minutes?”

Parker swallowed hard.

“Yes.”

She was surprised when Kristina stepped away. She took Parker’s hand and tugged her over to the large window, leaving her standing in front of it looking out. The ocean was choppy, the tide in, bringing it close up the deserted section of what she imagined to be private beach.

Hands settled on her hips, and she felt Kristina at her back.

“Do you find me attractive, Parker?”

Parker looked out over the ocean, fighting between trying to center herself and letting herself go, giving herself over to this and being wild.

“Yes.”

She yelped when a slap landed across her left ass cheek. Even through her jeans it smarted slightly.

“You know what I want. I expect you to do it.”

Kristina’s voice was impossibly close, the heat of her body, the soft tickle of her breath on the side of Parker’s neck.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl…” The breathy words made Parker burn. Careful hands slid around her body, trailing higher and higher, and she fought the urge not to let her head fall back as they settled under her breasts and cupped them through her clothes.

“I want to hear you say this…” Kristina squeezed gently, testing the weight of them, and Parker’s breath caught audibly, embarrassingly.

“It’s okay to enjoy sex.”

Weird.

“It’s okay…” Fingers moved higher, ghosting over her suddenly hard nipples. “To enjoy sex.”

“Good.”

Kristina sounded delighted and turned on. It blew Parker’s mind that she was causing it.

Lips pressed against the spot where her neck met her shoulder, so soft and sweet they almost broke something inside her. A swell of emotion rose in her throat, so thick she could cry, and then the hands at her breast were moving.

“See how your body responds to me?”

Fingers were rolling her nipples, tugging and teasing through the smooth silk and thin lace of her bra, and she definitely did.

“Yes…Mistress.”

It was getting easier.

“You deserve this, Parker.”

She was pulled, her back flush against Kristina’s front, lips against the nape of her neck.

Those fingers kneaded her, touched her, teased her. Her nipples strained, and everything in her lower abdomen clenched tight, aching.

“You deserve to be worshipped.” One hand ceased its torture only to trail agonizingly lower, slowly.

“Your body should be cherished.”

Kristina palmed her breast hard, her fingers tracing over the waistband of her jeans. Parker’s hips bucked expectantly, moving forward to meet them, then back to grind into Kristina’s pelvis.

“I want you still.”

The voice that had been liquid sex was suddenly smooth, hard, and the effect was instant, embarrassment crashing over her.

“That’s right, sweetheart.” Those fingers began to move again, and her little slip didn’t seem so bad.

The hand slid lower, and her head fell back, resting awkward on the smaller woman’s shoulder. She was panting, anticipation crashing over her, the muscles in her thighs squeezed so tight she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her up.

“You deserve to be fucked.”

The hand cupped her hard through her jeans, and a soft sound of surprise escaped her. It took everything in her not to grind against it.

Kristina hummed her approval. “You deserve to be taken, sweetheart.”

Fingers pressed up against Parker, rubbing ever so slightly, and the muscles in her stomach clenched impossibly tighter in response.

“Do you like that?”

Kristina moved faster, increasing the pressure, and Parker answered immediately.

“Yes, Mistress.” The words were breathy, drawn out over the sound of her want. She was detaching, falling away from herself, out of her own head, just a spectator in her life as she did this.

“Good girl.”

The praise shot another spike of need right down to her core.

“Do you know what you deserve most of all?”

Heat was coiled low in her stomach, her breaths puffing out in time with the rub of those clever fingers over and over the inseam of her jeans.

“No… Mistress, no, Mistress…”

It was almost like a mantra now, and somehow like this, she was picked apart and free. Unashamed by her want, by the fact she was laid open, bare, wound tight, and ready to come undone under Kristina’s careful touch.

“Oh, Parker.”

The fingers slowed down, still rubbing her hard, but at an easier tempo. She whined as she was dragged just barely back from the edge.

“You deserve to be pleasured, endlessly.”

Her brain screamed in response. If that was the case, could Kristina get her off already?

“Do you want to come for me?”

Yes.

“Yes, Mistress.”

The fingers covering her moved in a dizzying circle and then resumed their frantic pace, and just like that, she was back, close, ready. Her damp underwear chafed against her flesh, and she wished Kristina would put her hand inside her jeans.

“Manners.”

It took Parker’s endorphin-riddled brain a second to understand what she wanted.

“Please, Mistress…please…please…”

Fingers closed tight around her nipple, the pressure between her legs increased ever so slightly, and she was right there, panting out soft breathy moans, Kristina holding her up and playing her body like a fiddle.

“Come for me, Parker.”

She did. Long and hard, and every time she thought she was done, those fingers pressed against the seam of her jeans, grazed her just right, and she was shuddering, flying, falling again.

Kristina rubbed her until it was almost painful, every last ounce of pleasure tugged from her. When finally, her hands stilled, Parker realized there were tears on her cheeks.

When was the last time I came like that? Have I ever? The girl didn’t even take off her clothes…

Kristina stepped back, still holding Parker’s hips. Ashamed of the tears on her cheeks, the absolute mess between her legs, Parker swiped her eyes hurriedly.

She didn’t want to turn around, her breathing still ragged, body still burning from her. What would she even say after…that?

“I enjoyed that, a lot.”

Kristina’s voice was soft in the quiet of the room. “If you like, I’ll show you out now. I know you were unsure before and probably need time to process our discussion.”

Parker nodded, running her fingers under her eyes one last time before she turned.

Kristina was watching her, and she was absolutely gorgeous. Her eyes were almost black, a flush across her beautiful face. She was all high cheekbones and plump lips, but the desire in those eyes was somehow all for her. Parker blushed, looking down at the wooden floor under her feet.

“Don’t.” Kristina stepped forward. “You’re beautiful; hold your head up.”

God, this girl is intense.

A moment passed between them, and then Parker was disappointed to see Kristina was striding away.

When she returned, she pressed a card into Parker’s hands.

“I hope you’ll think about our time together today. You can reach me through any of those.” She indicated the card. “And let me know what you decide.”

Parker nodded her agreement. Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave.

“I’d offer you a shower before you go, but I’m only human and I don’t trust my self-control if you stay, and you need time to digest.”

The words would have been corny, cheesy, coming from anyone else, but from her, with those probing eyes, that desire-rough voice, Parker almost believed them. This girl really finds me attractive.

“That’s… I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

She offered Kristina a shy smile, pleased to receive a dazzling one in return.

They walked to the door in silence, and Parker hovered on the stoop. She wanted to say something, anything, but her head was still so tangled with all this, she had no idea where to even start.

“Drive safely.”

She nodded. Raised her eyes to meet Kristina’s, held them for a second, before, blushing, she turned to leave.

Her legs shook as she slid down into her car, uncomfortable in her ruined underwear and still sensitive. She felt dirty—this was the most casual sexual encounter she’d ever had.

Reaching behind her to put on her seat belt, she noticed Kristina was still watching from the doorway. Their eyes met, and even across the space, she gave Parker a smile that made her burn.

With one last smile and half a wave, Parker fumbled the keys into the ignition and started her car.

At the end of the driveway, she glanced back in the rearview, surprised to find Kristina still there, watching her car, as it turned and left onto the street.

 

FOR THE FIRST time in what she’d realized was over a year, she’d woken up and gone for a run. Once upon a time she had been an addict. Pounding the pavement as the sun rose had been as vital as her morning cup of coffee, but like so much else, in the monotony of her marriage, her life, that passion had been lost too.

Parker felt sluggish, slow, already struggling and barely a quarter of the way around what had once been her easy route, but she forced herself to go on. She had found something, a little piece of herself in her long-forgotten running shoes, and with every step she took, she saw more clearly just how much she had let slip away.

What wasn’t so clear was Kristina. If it hadn’t been for the small gray-scale business card lying on her nightstand when she woke up, she might actually have believed she’d dreamed the whole thing.

Marion had called four times, and Parker had ignored every single one because she had absolutely no idea what she was going to say.

Yes, it went great, we hardly talked at all, she got me off without even taking off my clothes—oh, and she’s sixteen years younger than me.

Part of her was scandalized by her actions, and part of her was impressed, excited. All of her felt guilty.

She puffed out another exhale, trying to control her breathing, studiously ignoring the stitch that was digging a hole in her side. A woman passed by in the opposite direction, her pace far more punishing and her face far less red than Parker knew her own was by now. When did I become this?

Her body had always been slim and toned. Long after Amanda stopped caring to look twice, Parker had maintained it that way for her own benefit. When did I stop caring about myself?

She was embarrassed to admit part of her sudden urge to run again was due to Kristina. Maybe once upon a time some of the things the girl…woman…had said might have been true. Parker had never been short on people to dance with, drink with, date in college; she was beautiful and she’d known it. Soft blonde curls and big dark eyes, fair skinned despite the Miami sun. She used to be sensual, sexual, confident, but somewhere along the way, all that had faded, like so much else.

Kristina was the last thing she had expected. The whole situation made Parker uncomfortable. Being called “sweetheart” by a twenty-four-year-old made her uncomfortable, yet when they…were together, she had no idea how else to describe what they had done. She hadn’t felt belittled or mocked, just… Sort of free?

She’d promised herself last night was it. It would be a one-time thing, a mistake, a story she and Marion would laugh about once in a while. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

For the first time in months, years, she was out, moving, and although she was confused, she was something. For the first time in so long she was living, breathing, conscious in her own life.

I have to stop running.

She dropped back to an unsteady walk and rested her hands on her hips, trying to open up her chest and get more air into her burning lungs.

Her phone buzzed against her hip. She was too breathless to talk, but she knew who it would be.

She was close enough anyway. Talking a left, she forced herself to power walk the block and a half to Marion’s house.

LiLing answered the door surprisingly quickly after Parker knocked.

“Lily…” She had barely breathed out the affectionate nickname before LiLing replied.

“Parker! My lovely wife was just on her way out to check on you. Roland and I were going to head to the park.”

LiLing offered her a smile, beautiful as ever with her straight dark hair and almond-shaped eyes.

“Guess I saved her a trip.”

Parker stepped through the door as LiLing stepped back, and was greeted by an armful of excited six-year-old.

“Auntie Parker!”

She hugged him to her leg, conscious of the fact she was covered in now-dry sweat from her pitiful attempt at a run.

“Hey, buddy! Mama says you’re going to the park this morning?”

He prattled to her excitedly. She remembered the day Marion had told her they were going to try for a baby. She remembered holding Marion’s hand while she showed her the Chinese donor they had found, in the hopes the baby would look something like both of them and share LiLing’s heritage as well as her own. It had worked out perfectly.

“She lives!”

Marion interrupted from the doorway, and Parker offered her an apologetic smile.

“All right, sir, let’s get outta here and leave these ladies to their talk.”

LiLing ushered Roland out. Parker watched them leave down the walkway, hand in hand, a pang of something snapping in her chest that she tried not to name. Amanda had never wanted kids, but Amanda hadn’t even wanted her, not really.

“Hey.”

Marion’s voice was soft from behind her, and there were two mugs in her hands. Parker followed her back through to the living room and plopped gratefully onto the towel that had been set for her on the sofa.

“So… What was she like?”

She laughed as her best friend sat down beside her, eager.

“She was beautiful, and intense, and young…”

Marion’s eyes were like lasers, tracking her face, categorizing every reaction.

“Young… Okay, we’ll get to that, but tell me first… Did she…empower you?”

Parker almost choked on her coffee.

“Oh my God, Mar.”

“Let me live vicariously through you… So she did then?”

She was beginning to flush.

“We didn’t have sex, but she did um…”

Hiding her head in her hands, she explained the whole encounter in the vaguest way possible.

When she finished, Marion was looking at her reverently.

“Without even touching you?”

“I mean… She was touching me just…”

“Without even taking off your clothes?”

Parker nodded.

“I… The situation was very…charged, and it’s been a little bit—”

“Oh my God, Parker, it’s been forever. But that is just…” Marion’s awe had morphed, and she looked positively gleeful. “So how young is young?”

Parker took a deep breath.

“Young enough that when I got there I was waiting for her to introduce me to her mother and leave so we could have our meeting.”

Marion winced.

“She’s twenty-four.”

Something shifted on Marion’s face. “How old is Amanda’s resident—Emily, is it?”

Parker nodded. “Thirty-one, I believe.”

Marion was smiling at her, smug, and she couldn’t help but smile along.

“God, stop, Amanda isn’t paying Emily for the privilege.”

“Are you paying…your…”

“Kristina,” Parker supplied. “And no, not directly. I paid the agency who matched us. She does this because she likes it.”

Marion sat back, and Parker saw her thinking, turning it all over. Half of her was eager to hear her best friend’s conclusions, while the other half almost didn’t want to know.

“So you get there, have the realization you’re doing this with a twenty-four-year-old, then she gets you off without removing a shred of your clothing and sends you on your way with her card to think about things.”

Parker cleared her throat.

“That’s the bare bones of it. We did talk a bit while she was…”

“Empowering you?”

She shot Marion a glare.

“I may have freaked out a bit at her age and tried to leave. She asked me to stay for fifteen minutes and then… She said all this stuff about how I deserved to be—um…” She was sure her face was beet red.

“Tell me.” Marion was sitting forward in her seat, coffee cup clutched in her hands. “Parker, close your eyes and say it fast.”

This was something they had started long ago, back in their college days, when they were embarrassed to share something. It had been their ritual ever since.

“It was something like… You deserve to be…” Parker squeezed her eyes shut and spat the words out quickly. “Fucked, taken, worshipped, pleasured endlessly.” She took a deep breath. “She said I’m attractive and powerful, and she just…”

Finally able to open her eyes, she looked down at the coffee cup in her hands.

“I know it all sounds like a big joke, but I… It felt real. She told me I was attractive and a little part of me started to believe her. I think it’s why I went for a run this morning. I want to get back to that, to feeling…confident and you know? Caring about myself.”

When she looked up, Marion was smiling at her.

“It doesn’t sound like a joke. It sounds like progress!”

Parker swallowed, uncomfortable.

“When are you seeing her again?”

She shrugged guiltily.

“This woman told you everything you have been needing to hear and somehow made you start to believe it, she has you out running, and she gave you a mind-blowing orgasm without taking off your clothes, but you didn’t call her back? What the hell is wrong with you?”

They laughed.

“What’s on your mind, P-bear?”

The old nickname surprised her, and the softness in Marion’s voice cracked her open.

“I feel guilty. Is it weird that I’m doing this? What if the…domination stuff is bad or awful? I’m almost old enough to be her mother, and what could she even see in me? She’s young, beautiful, obviously wealthy…”

“Parker.” Marion stopped her, a hand on her knee. “Don’t ruin this for yourself before it’s begun. Take it for what it is, a way to kick-start some change in your life. Don’t get attached; just enjoy it for now.”

Parker nodded. I can try.

“And as for the age difference, who cares? Who is going to judge you, and since when does it matter anyway? You didn’t care that half the freaking city knew Amanda was cheating on you for years.”

She shot her best friend a dark look, and Marion held up her hands in apology.

“I’m just trying to say, forget it. Forget what people think, and forget whether her attraction to you makes any sense. It felt real, right, when you were together?”

Parker nodded.

“Just explore it. Just…let yourself have this.”

“I know, I know.”

Marion pulled her in for a hug, and she felt better than she had in days. With her perfect family, when all Parker had was her broken marriage and a woman almost half her age who apparently wanted to dominate her, Marion was easy to envy. Yet in moments like this, she was even easier to love. She let her chin rest against Marion’s shoulder.

“Let myself be wild.”