Neighbors Pt. 10

The next few weeks fell into a blur. Aymie spent at least three afternoons a week at Jackson's place, sometimes more. Max's recovery was going well, and he was scheduled to get his cast off a week ahead of schedule, which shocked the veterinarians and Jack as well. The old boy was still kicking, and seemed determined not to be slowed down by his injury.

Business seemed to be picking up at Jackson's company, and he needed to spend more and more time at the office. Ted seemed to have been growing a spine right before his eyes and had set up several meetings with a handful of different activist groups and spokesman, all interested in advertising their product. There was even talk about opening up a second branch of the company on the other side of the country. That was still far off, but the idea thrilled Jackson right down to the bone. That he could have built this from the ground up and it could take off the way it had made him swell with pride.

Things hadn't been quite so positive on Aymie's end. She had spent the afternoons that she wasn't at Jackson's at home, painting and expanding her mediums. She'd finished multiple canvases in different styles and color schemes, and was starting to consider selling a few pieces on the side. Her mother was becoming more and more needy now that Aymie wasn't at home all the time. The house wasn't as clean as it normally may have been, meals were not prepared as often, laundry didn't get finished, and that set the house on edge. There was a growing tension between Rosaline and Aymie that caused them both to grit their teeth. Rosaline grew resentful of Mr. Davis, of the fact that she'd even suggested sending Aymie there in the first place. And Aymie's resentment for her own mother only grew as her needs became more and more apparent.

She and Mr. Davis had discussed it more than once, whether it was during their hours of pillow talk, or over dinner. He reminded her that she was her own person, that she may love her mother but that didn't mean she was in service to her. How was she going to grow if she was constantly tethered to her mother? How was she going to build a life? Those conversations weighed heavily on Aymie and made the normal, everyday tasks that her mother left for her seem like requests to move mountains.

Spring was slowly but surely melting away into summer, and the temperature was steadily climbing into the seventies almost every day. Mr. Davis had opened up his pool, and the entirety of his yard was in direct sunlight for the majority of the day, save for a few hours in the evening. This presented Aymie with the opportunity to work on her tan in the afternoons that she was there, and today was one of those days.

She and Max lounged on the back deck, the sun beating down and warming the two of them. Max was belly up, his tongue lolled out to the side, basking in the warmth and Aymie lay on a beach towel in a bikini, untied at the back to ensure she didn't have tan lines. It was close to two in the afternoon, and she knew she should apply some sunscreen, but she didn't want to move. Everything was quiet and peaceful, so warm and inviting, and she sighed happily at the beating sun on her back.

"All good, Maxy?" she asked the pooch, peeking over at him. He groaned and rolled over to the side, pushing himself up and hobbling over to a shady spot to lap at some water and take a break from the sun.

"Good boy. It's important to hydrate."

Hydration was exactly what Aymie intended to do as well. She rolled off of her beach towel, hanging it over the banister of the deck, and stood up to stretch. The pool rippled, sending wild designs and shimmers along the bottom, and beckoned her to take a dip. An idea crossed her mind that brought a smile to her face. Mr. Davis's house was well concealed, viewable only to her home; the other side of the yard had tree cover, giving her all the privacy in the world. She slipped her bikini top off along with her bottoms, tossing them in a heap on the planks of the deck, then canonballed into the pool. The splash cascaded up onto the deck, flinging water across the wood that soon evaporated in the beating sun and Aymie emerged with a contented sigh, slicking the hair back from her face.

She floated. Kicking her legs up from the bottom of the pool she arched her back just a bit, letting her arms drift off to the sides as the air in her lungs kept her up above the water. Her eyes drifted closed, the contrast of the beating sun on her skin and the cool of the water around her soothing her. She allowed all thought to drift away from her mind, all of the stress of her mother's pressing needs, Derek's growing irritation with her absence, and the guilt she still felt in her chest to melt away. The sound of silence beneath the crest of the water beckoned and eased her, drawing her into a relaxation that she sunk easily into, floating atop the water. Occasionally a breeze would waft through and tighten her skin, making her smile. At this moment, there was not a worry in her mind.

Aymie wasn't sure how long she floated that way. The sun's heat caused her to drift in and out of sleep, the stillness in her limbs keeping her straight and afloat. Shadows crept along the edge of the yard steadily, reaching dark fingers across the grass and the corners of the deck, eventually lurking at the edges of the pool. She didn't stir on her own, but the sound of Max working up to standing roused her, her eyes peeling open and her feet reaching down for the bottom of the pool.

"Oh, honey...you're so burnt..."

Aymie looked down at herself after Mr. Davis called to her, eyeing the bright red skin of her chest and torso. She didn't feel it, of course...but she wrinkled up her nose at the sight. This was going to hurt later. She wandered over to the edge of the pool to look up at Mr. Davis as he greeted Max, and he looked back over at her with a smirk and a raised brow.

"Awfully bold of you, don't you think?" he asked, nodding to her nakedness. "What if someone saw you?"

Aymie shrugged. "The only person that could see would be mom, and she's at work until five or six."

Mr. Davis looked at his watch. "Well it's after four."

He chuckled and reached a hand down to help her up and out of the water, which she took, hoisting herself up and out of the pool. She reached for her towel, but Mr. Davis stopped her. He held the towel in his hands, taking a step back and eyeing her over from head to toe. Aymie felt her cheeks flush under his gaze, despite the burn on her skin. She reached for the towel again, snatching it out of his hands.

He grinned. "You look so good, honey."

She wrapped the towel around herself and planted a hand on his chest, kissing him softly on the lips once before she pushed past him and padded inside. Max followed her. She stepped into the kitchen and began to prepare Max's meal, pulling out a dog bowl and his kibble, along with his pain medication, which was half as strong as it was before. Max wagged his tail as he watched her fix his food, his tail thunking off the leg of the table.

"Hungry, Maxy?" she asked him, grinning down at the golden as she bent and placed his food down next to his water bowl. He wasted no time in digging in, and Aymie began to wash her hands as Mr. Davis stepped into the kitchen, setting down his briefcase on the table.

"Long day?" she asked, peeking over her shoulder as she dried off her hands.

He nodded, launching into his explanation of the day's events, the meetings he was in, emails he responded to, jobs he doled out, and so on. Aymie listened, as she did every day, attentive to his words. She always enjoyed hearing about his afternoons and the embellishment he put on them. She wanted to be his outlet, his calming presence that brought him out of his working state of mind, and into something calmer and more comfortable. To this point, she'd done well.

He sighed, shrugging a shoulder and rising to his feet to slip his hands around her waist and pull her in close, planting a slow, deep kiss on her lips. She loved when he kissed her like this. There was something so intimate about it, as though every kiss were their first, explorative and curious. His tongue curled around hers, bringing shivers to her and she slid her arms around his neck, surrendering to him.

They stayed that way for several long minutes, sucking kisses from one another, breathing deep, clutching at each other's form until Mr. Davis pulled back, smirking down at her. He ran a fingertip across her bottom lip, now swollen from his kisses, and pushed the digit into her mouth, which she suckled on slowly.

"I brought you something."

Aymie's eyes brightened and she popped his finger out of her mouth, kissing it before she grinned. "What is it?"

He cocked his head in an indication for her to follow him as he headed past her and towards the stairs that led to his bedroom. Aymie followed happily, scampering behind him with her towel still wrapped tightly on her torso. Excitement and anticipation pooled in her tummy as her steps mimicked his. What would it be? Something new for them to try in bed?

Aymie was more than satisfied with their sex. Every meeting was like their first, passionate and breathless and deeply, wholly satisfying. He knew every curve and crevice in her body, every erogenous zone that sent her into a frenzy. She was learning his, the ways to touch him and please him that made him breathless and lose control on his calm, cool, and collected exterior. It was such an adventure and Aymie knew she'd never get enough.

...But there was something missing. She knew he still had his box of tricks somewhere, the box that held all of those toys and restraints and exciting, foreign objects that she'd never seen before. When was he going to use them on her? There was such a dark, delicious promise that had been building between them and Aymie wanted to know more. She wanted to experience all of it.

Mr. Davis led her into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, hooking his finger tip into her towel and tugging it away in one quick movement. He tossed it aside, then slid his hands all over her back and shoulders, touching her and caressing her warmed, sun-kissed skin. His hands slipped up into her hair, tangling in her chocolate tresses and tugging them up into a high pony, which he secured with a hair tie. Aymie's nipples hardened into peaks at his touch, her eyes drifting closed and her mouth falling open. Her skin tightened with awareness of his presence, of his commanding demeanor.

He pushed her to the bed, urging her to sit at the edge of it as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small box, velvet lined, and Aymie's heart leapt into her throat. He offered it to her, saying nothing. With shaky hands, she took it from him and looked up at him with a confused expression, suddenly nervous. What was this?

"Open it," he instructed, a playful smile at the edge of his mouth.

She kept her eyes on him as he hands worked the box open, then she peered down into it and a slow-building gasp came to her throat. Inside the box was a thin, black leather cord with a locking clasp at the back. Hanging from the front of it was a small, teardrop pendant with a moonstone embedded within it. It was elegant, simple, and beautiful. Aymie ran her fingertips along the leather and the pendant, feeling her chest swell. She looked up at him.

"What is this?" she asked him, her voice small, barely a whisper.

He reached for it, pulling it out of the box and climbing onto the bed to kneel behind her. He brought the choker to her neck, holding it there, but not clasping it.

"It will look good on you," he said, holding it where it would fall once it was clasped.

"It will?" she asked him, turning her head to catch his gaze.

Nodding, he released the choker from her throat and placed it back in the box. "Mmhm. Once you're ready to wear it, yes. It will look perfect."

Aymie looked down at the box, then back up at him. She didn't understand.

"It's a collar, honey."

She wrinkled up her nose. "What am I, a dog?"

Mr. Davis's demeanor changed, and Aymie regretted the words she'd chosen and the tone that came. She offended him.

"You know this isn't like that." His voice was clipped and short. "I would never degrade you or treat you as less than perfection. Less than a queen."

Aymie worked up to her knees and faced him, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm sorry. You're right. I just...don't understand."

He set the box aside. "Are you mine? Completely? Have you given yourself to me?"

Aymie nodded. "Of course. In every way that I can, right now. You know that."

"This is a sign of that, of my ownership of you. A subtle way for you to mark yourself. A reminder that you belong to me."

A lump formed in her throat and she wasn't sure where it came from. There were too many feelings in her chest to understand, too many emotions that came to the surface. Tears stung at her eyes and she blinked a few times to try and whisk them away.

"I can't wear that, Mr. Davis," she whispered, her shoulders curling forward.

"I know, honey. Not yet."

Aymie looked up at him. He knew? Then why give it to her?

"I know that it isn't the right time. But I want you to know that I'm ready to claim you, when you're ready."

She sniffed. Would she ever be ready? This was...a gigantic step. For her to mark herself with his ownership, for her to advertise their affair was nearly too much to ask. Was he asking her to leave Derek? To tell her mother? To bring the last four weeks of their blossoming relationship into the light and tell everyone? Could she do that?

A tear traveled down her cheek and she tried to wipe it away but Mr. Davis caught her hand and placed a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to his.

"Why the tears?" he asked her. "I thought you'd be happy."

She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "I am. I want to put it on right now. I want to be yours, Mr. Davis, I really do." She sniffed once. "But I can't. Not fully. I can't leave Derek. I can't tell my mom, I can't make this public. I don't think you can either. There's too much criticism waiting on the other side."

That stopped him for a moment, and Aymie sniffed hard and wondered if she'd offended him again. She was always so clumsy with her words, and this was out of the blue for her. She had no idea that he had even been this serious about her, not yet. It had only been a few weeks, but he was already ready to proclaim his ownership of her? It all felt too fast.

"Okay," he said, after a long few moments of silence. "How about just here, then?"

Aymie looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Wear it for me, when we're alone. I'll keep it here, at the house, and whenever you come over I'll put it on for you, and take it off when you leave." He swiped his thumb along her cheek. "How does that sound?"

She felt her shoulders sag with relief that he wasn't upset, and that he'd come up with a solution. "That sounds perfect."

He reached back into the box and pulled the leather cord back up to her neck, clasping it. It fit perfectly, the pendant sitting just at the hollow beneath her throat. Mr. Davis crawled off the bed and stood in front of her, admiring both her naked body and the collar around her neck. The look in his eyes sent a shiver through her, and made her blush.

Without another word spoken, he turned and stepped into the closet, reaching up and pulling down the box from the top shelf, the one that held all the toys and restraints that she was so excited to try.

As he opened it and began to pull out the restraints and the spreader bar, he looked at her. "Do you trust me?"

Anticipation pooled deep in her belly and she nodded.

He took her by the hands and began slipping the leather restraints around her wrists. They were lined with a soft fabric on the inside, making them comfortable but the leather itself was stiff and unforgiving. It sent a thrill down between her legs, making her tingle.

"I'd like to spank you, honey." He met her gaze. "Do you want to try that?"

The memory of their meeting in her guest bedroom at home, the sting of his hand on her backside and the jolt of painful pleasure it brought to her popped into her head. She bit her lip.

"Yes. Please."

He smirked at her, locking the restraints in place. The sound of it made her tremble.

"Good."

-----

"Now, say them back to be one more time, and tell me what they mean."

Jackson stood at the edge of the bed, eyeing his prize with a predatory gaze. Leather cuffs sat around Aymie's wrists, which he intended to fasten to the bed frame, and a set was around her ankles as well, with the spreader bar sitting at the edge of the bed. He didn't fully restrain her yet, knowing he needed to go over safe words with her first.

"If I say red, it means that everything needs to stop right now."

He loved when she sounded like that, meek and small. He looked down at her and nodded. "And the other?"

She reached up and wiped her nose. "Yellow means that I need a break, or that you need to slow down."

"That's right. Do you trust me to listen when you say those things?"

"Yes, Mr. Davis."

He smiled, kissing her on the forehead. "Good girl. Now lie back."

Aymie pushed herself back on the bed and lay down on the pillows, and Jack took hold of her wrists and fastened them to the bars of the headboard, tightening them just enough so that her arms were pulled up above her head. She had a bit of wiggle room, but not enough for it to make a difference. Once her wrists were secured, he ran his finger tips down each of her arms, over her face, and closed them around her throat. She looked at him with anticipation, lust, and a little bit of fear. He loved the combination, and he bent down to kiss her deeply before travelling further down her body to fasten her ankles to the spreader bar. He pulled it wide, locking it into place so that she was spread, displaying her pussy beautifully before him. He could smell her sex, could see the wetness clinging to her lips and it made his mouth water.

Perhaps he'd make her cum before he spanked her. That way, every sensation would be heightened. He ran his hands up her legs and she looked down at him eagerly, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. His lips drew a line up the inside of her leg, past her calf and knee, to her inner thigh. He nipped her sharply, causing her to gasp and bite her lip. He grinned up at her and breathed over her pussy before moving to the opposite thigh, nipping her there as well. She whimpered, wiggling beneath him.

"You smell good," he growled at her, hovering just in front of her pussy lips, which practically begged him to taste.

He resisted, though the urge was strong. His tongue slid along the crease of her hip, leaving a wet trail in its wake, and he sank his teeth into her hip bones just a bit, preparing her with the contrast of pleasure and pain. She was so receptive, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, and he had barely begun. Once he mirrored his movements along her opposite hip crease, he settled down before her honey pot and took it in.

She was clean shaven along her lips, with a delicious 'V' of brunette hair sitting on her mound. Her skin was silky smooth, well moisturized, and begged to be touched and licked. He slid his tongue along the outside of her lips, tantalizing and teasing her further. She smelled like sex and sweat and the aroma was heady and intoxicating. He taunted her, avoiding any contact with her clit or her inner lips. He wanted to make her beg. Her clit was engorged, and the glisten of her pussy juice was leaking from her soaked slit. It made him salivate.

Her breathing picked up even more as he continued his torment, his tongue dipping down to tease around the outer edge of her puckered asshole, coaxing a gasp from her parted lips. When he looked up and met her gaze, her eyes were focused and alert, watching his every move with an intent that drove him wild with lust. With one slow, deliberate lick, he covered her pussy lips with his tongue, parted them, and scooped her nectar into his mouth to taste her.