Risk Your Heart

"Whatever."

Drew pulled me into his lap, instead of casually lying half splayed over him like I had been.

"So, what lessons did we learn here, little sub?"

"Cartoons aren't all bad."

He slapped me on the thigh, almost on the ass.

"Not funny. You ever call an award-winning full-length animated feature film a cartoon, and you will be punished."

"Promise?"

Drew's deep brown eyes seemed to change into sexy, molten pools, but then he got a hold of himself.

"Okay, so, these movies aren't just for kids. What else?"

I shrugged.

"So here's the thing," Drew said.

"Ut-oh, I am in for a lecture here?" I asked.

"Yes, but I'm the Dom and you're the sub, so I command you to sit there and enjoy it. You will enjoy it, damn it."

I chuckled.

"Where was I?"

"So here's the thing," I said.

"Right, thank you," Drew said. "So here's the thing. In this movie, and in a lot of good movies, all the characters actually represent different aspects of ourselves."

"Ut-oh."

"The reason people love this movie, is that even though they don't realize it, they see themselves in every character, and they see who they want to be, who they could be."

I pretended to stick my finger down my throat and made a gagging noise.

Drew pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear. It was a tender gesture, but the threat of 'Shut up you bitch, or I will gag you was just under the surface.' It was HOT.

"Where was I?" Drew asked.

"Hell if I know," I said.

"Anyway," Drew said. "Lessons you take away from Toy Story." Drew had one arm wrapped around me, but he held up the other hand and pointed one finger up to show he was illustrating his first point. "Buzz Lightyear doesn't let anyone tell him that he isn't a flying toy, or that he can't fly, or that he won't be able to fly. Don't let anyone tell you who you are. Don't even let the negative part of yourself tell you who you are or aren't, or why.

"I think," Drew continued. "It seems like you think maybe your sub thing is because you think you need it to somehow keep a lid on yourself, but maybe that's not true. Maybe it's just the way you're wired. It's okay, you know, to be yourself. Especially when your boyfriend thinks it's sexy as hell."

"I'm pretty sure it doesn't say anywhere in Toy Story it's okay if you want to be a submissive," I said.

"Yeah, but it says it's okay for you to be you. Eh?"

I made another gagging sound.

"And that Canadian 'Eh?' thing is getting old," I said.

"No way," Drew said. "I'm still looking for opportunities to say 'out' and 'abOUt'.

I purposely pitched my voice whiny. "Are we done yet?"

Drew chomped his teeth in the air like an angry dog. "You'll know when I'm done with you."

"Hey, I know one lesson from Toy Story you haven't mentioned," I said. "You should always keep extra batteries handy. I can attest to that. You never know when your vibrator is going to conk out."

"Okay," Drew said. "I don't think that's what Buzz Lightyear had in mind with his spare set, but I'll go for it. Maybe you'll let me borrow yours and try it on you for a test drive."

ACK.

"Where was I?" Drew asked.

"You were planning on going to the North Pole, and letting me find my way home by myself."

"Never."

I stared at him.

"Stay with me, baby doll. Almost done."

I faked a yawn.

"So then there's the importance of working as a couple. Buzz Lightyear and Woody trust each other. They're a team. Every time something goes wrong, they solve it together."

"Ack," I said.

"Afflac," Drew said.

"What?"

"Never mind. It's from a commercial. I digress."

I reached out and touched his face. Only Drew could make a kids' film into a college psych lecture.

"Last thing, baby. Rex, the dinosaur? He was scared shitless. All the time. He was filled with anxiety. He never wants to leave the playroom. Major panic attacks."

I looked away.

Drew gently put his hand under my chin and brought my head around until I was looking at him again.

"But he doesn't let that stop him. He helps rescue Woody and the other toys. He supports Buzz learning to fly, even if he is scared for him. He steps way outside his comfort zone because his friends need him, and they encourage him to. You see that's what this film is really about. It's about the power of friendship."

I looked down at my lap.

"And love," Drew said quietly.

I bit my lower lip.

"I know you don't love me," Drew continued in a quiet voice. "And maybe you never will. Lotso, our villain, the big purple stuffed bear, his past rules him. He even says, 'No risk means no heartbreak!'

"We all want to shelter ourselves like that sometimes, baby, not just you. I know your situation is, was, more dire than most. If you never love me back, that's okay. But I want you to know, I believe in you. You're braver than you think. You're stronger than you think. It's okay that you're scared."

I bit my lip so hard I was afraid I'd draw blood. I looked down at the comforter. Not very comforting. It was gold with tiny gold-thread paisleys in it that I hadn't noticed before. Was that symbolic of something?

Drew was still talking. I tried to tune in.

"Rex is scared, but he takes a deep breath and runs out there and does it anyway. Mrs. Potato head stands up to Lotso at his worst, and tells him what's what. Woody gets dragged behind a car. They all almost get crushed in a compactor, and I'm betting you know how that feels."

I nodded. Boy, do I ever.

"I get it, I get it," I said.

"Last thing," Drew said.

"You said that before, you liar."

"I'm the Dom; I make the rules. Buzz Lightyear never loses faith. He says over and over, 'To infinity and beyond'."

"Yeah, what does that mean?" I asked.

Drew shrugged. "No one really knows, I guess. I think it means, 'I'm going to try, and try, and try, until I succeed. Until the end of this lifetime and into the next. To the end of the universe. Out to infinity. Fuck it. Beyond infinity. If it takes a thousand lifetimes, I'm going to learn how to fly...." He paused. Drew stroked my cheek. He looked like he was going to say something else, like apply it me personally, but I just shook my head.

He pushed me off his lap.

There was a loud thunderclap, and I jumped. Suddenly rain started pouring, the tat-a-tat loud against the window.

Drew got up, went to his suitcase and got out another disk.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Why, Toy Story 2, of course."

I put my hands to the bottom of my shirt and very sinuously lifted it over my head. I had the black corset with the steel rings on underneath. I put my forefinger to my lips, and made the most innocent pout I could possibly muster.

Drew threw the disk over his shoulder. His flying leap to the bed tipped the lamp over and knocked my purse open, spilling all the contents on the floor.

We didn't care in the slightest.

"Toy Story 2 can wait," he said. "Beaver tail it is."

We laughed so much, at one point I half fell off the bed, and Drew grabbed me by the ankle as I crawled away from him.

"No," I said. "No beaver tail for you."

"Wanna bet?" he said.

*

I woke up the next morning as melancholy as the gray fog that lingered from the rain storm the night before. It was drizzly and overcast, and it was our last full day in Vancouver.

This had been the best holiday of my life. The best summer of my life. Tomorrow we would go home, and I should separate from Drew at least a little. It wasn't fair to lead him on if I was never going to be all he needed me to be. After last night's post Toy Story conversation it was pretty clear he was ready for things I might never be ready for.

Drew was enlightened, and I was broken. He might have had one huge tragedy, but I bet before that he had a pretty stable base. He recovered. Maybe I never would? If I cared about him at all, I wouldn't lead him on.

One last day in paradise.

Damp, dank, paradise.

We spent the day going to museums. Even the museums in Vancouver are wonderful.

For dinner Drew took me to a restaurant called...wait for it...Canadians Love Hockey. With a name like that I expected them to serve hot dogs and nachos, but when we got inside I could see that it was actually a fancy bistro that looked a lot like an upscale French café except for the occasional red maple leaf painted on the wall.

The food was excellent, and the company even better.

We finished dinner, and I was about to say I was too stuffed for desert when our waiter came out carrying a small birthday cake with nine candles in it. Did some nine-year-old have a birthday? The other wait staff was behind our waiter singing happy birthday, and all the patrons in the restaurant joined in.

I stared at Drew. He was singing the loudest.

"Happy birth-day, Dear LEeee-AH."

Holy shit.

"Happy birthday, to you."

The waiter put the cake down on our table. I just stared at it. Everyone in the restaurant clapped. After what seemed like an eternity the staff left us alone.

"I forgot it was my birthday," I said.

"You forgot?"

"Ah, yeah."

Drew stared at me like I'd grown a Canadian flag out of my head.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"I saw your license on the floor after I knocked it off the bedside stand last night," Drew said. "Besides, since Labor Day, when you mentioned you were almost twenty-seven, I've been looking for a clue."

Twenty-seven. Two and seven. Nine candles. Yeah. I guess twenty-seven candles would be hard to fit on such a little cake.

"No one's every made a big deal out of my birthday before," I whispered. I looked down at the table and kept my gaze there.

"Not even when you were a kid?"

I shook my head.

Drew didn't say anything for a minute; he just took my hand. "Well, we can make a big deal of it every year if you want. We can make a big deal of it twice a year if you'd like. Because as far as I'm concerned it was one of the best days in the universe. If you never want to make a big deal of it again, that's okay too."

I will not cry. This trip is just a nice aberration. I'm not going to get attached to this man.

"Leah? Are you all right? If you don't like the cake we can send it back."

"I love it," I whispered.

"Yeah, well. Don't get too attached to it. We're going to eat it. You can't have your cake and eat it too."

I burst out laughing, the tension broken.

"How dumb a saying is that?" Drew said. "Of course you have it and eat it too. You can't not have it when you eat it. The saying should be 'You can't keep your cake and eat it too'. Or maybe, 'You can't keep thin thighs and eat your cake too'. What do you say? Should we go on a campaign to change the saying? 'You can't eat your cake and not wear Spanx, too?'"

"You are such a dork."

"But I'm your dork, right?"

"That remains to be seen," I said. "Let them eat cake."

"That's not how it goes," Drew said. "It's, 'Let them eat cake...in Canada.'"

*

After dinner he had another surprise for me.

"You have got to be kidding me," I said.

"Nope," Drew said. "It's Canada. What's Canada without a hockey game?"

"But it's freaking summer!"

"Sure, it's freaking summer, to you, because it's still hot enough to fry an egg on your belly button in the United States, and summer doesn't technically end until the fall equinox on September twenty-third. However, this is Canada, eh? Where winter starts in July. And hockey starts in 'always'. That's not field hockey. Field hockey is for pussies. That's ICE hockey. If the ice melts a little on top, too fucking bad, you wuss."

"So we're going to a hockey game," I said.

"It's abOUt time, eh?" Drew said.

I smacked my forehead. "Good grief."

It was actually a hockey practice, in an indoor rink, which made more sense. It was fast, and sort of violent with the guys smacking up against each other, and all the excess testosterone wafting up off the ice was somehow a little sexy.

I looked over at Drew out of the corner of my eye. Ryan Reynolds. Birthday cake. Super fast macho guys banging into each other.

"This is all part of your devious plan to get me horny, isn't it?" I asked.

"I need a plan for that?"

I laughed.

I will not fall in love with this guy.

I will not fall in like.

I will not even fall into sync.

A loud crash against the rink sidewall right near us startled me out of my reverie.

Appreciation and lust though. Well, hell. It is Vancouver. Might as well enjoy it.

*

I let out a big yawn as Drew opened the door to our hotel room. He let me enter first, in that gentlemanly way of his, and as I walked by him I yawned even louder, actually putting fists in front of my mouth before raising my hands in the air and making a sound like a wailing baboon.

"Sorry," I said. I threw my purse down on the bedside table. "It's been a long day."

"That's right, it has. But it's still your birthday, little sub, so don't think a long day is going to get you out of me giving you your birthday present."

Birthday present? He already got me a cake. I turned around to look at him. When could he possibly have had time to—

Oh.

The absolute male possessiveness in that smile, a predatory look that said 'I have a plan for you, sex slave, and ohhhhhhh...it's gonna be good' was so clear on his face that my breath caught for a second and then my chest started to heave as I dragged in ragged gulps of air.

"Good," he said, as he sauntered over toward me, "you should be afraid."

"I'm not afraid."

"Then why are your eyes dilated?" Drew pulled the neckline of my shirt down and placed his palm flat onto the middle of my chest. "Why is your heart beating so fast?"

"It's because I'm ex—"

I didn't get a chance to finish the sentence because Drew spun me around and slammed my torso down on the bed. He slapped some sort of really cool leather cuffs around my wrists. I was just taking a second to admire the intricate tiny studs on them when he put something in my hand, what, rope?

I stared at it. It was definitely rope, rough and tan, its fibers twinning and twisting. It looked like the kind you would tie up a boat with, if you lived in the 1870's, maybe. What the hell did he expect me to do with rope?

"Wh—"

"Quiet."

Drew yanked my pants down. I could feel him, breathing on the back of my calves as he pried my sneakers off. His hands caressed up my legs briefly, as if he couldn't help himself, and got distracted, and then he worked my pants down even farther.

"Step out of them," he said, in a harsh voice.

Oh God.

I did.

I felt the light blue line connecting us again. It was like some power even greater than our day-to-day connection was drawing an energy bridge between us. I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on the bright, tingly sparkle.

Something cold clamped around one ankle and closed with a loud snick-snap. Drew pushed my right leg farther out and a cuff closed around that ankle. I twisted around to look.

Spreader bar.

Holy shit.

My face got hot.

So did other places.

Although...I twisted even further to get a closer look but Drew stood up and grabbed me by the back of the neck and moved me back so that my torso was flat on the bed.

"Ready, beautiful?" Drew asked.

"Yes, Sir," I said. My voice was breathy, and didn't sound like my own.

Drew placed his large hand at the top of my spine, and rubbed up and down my back in a move that shouldn't have been so incredibly sensual, but was. I couldn't help arching my lower back, which I belatedly realized probably made me seem like I was presenting my ass in the most wanton way.

I thought about that spreader bar. The cuffs were metal but padded with some sort of fur. The bar keeping my legs apart was a stiff metal bar. What was different was coils of leather and fabric connecting the cuffs to the bar in the middle. I'd never seen anything like it. It was sexy, but what was its—

Any thoughts I had were cut off when Drew's hands wandered over my ass.

"Oh God, your hands feel so good," I said on a moan.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I said.

I kept opening my eyes, wanting to see everything, and closing them again, because it was like my eyelids couldn't stay open. Drew's touch was drugging me, and the world was going blurry, and each pass of his hands got closer and closer to my core.

He leaned over me until his chest was touching my back.

Then he started wrapping the rope around my hands, wrists...forearms.

Huh?

I was holding one end, and he kept circling around, creating a cast out of the rope almost, binding me together palms to elbows.

It was...different, a little scary, hot. The rope was really long. How far up would he go? My whole body?

Drew stopped at my elbows.

He tilted a little to the side so I could see him clearly. He took the other end of the rope and wrapped it around his wrist.

Tying us together.

Holy shit.

Then his hand was teasing my folds, and I was whimpering.

"Do you want me inside you?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Not yet."

Then his fingers were stroking me, creating magic, all over at once, and then slow, languid caresses that had me dripping nectar all over his hands.

"Not yet," he said again.

"Please," I said.

"That's it, baby. Beg."

"Please, Drew, please, Sir, please, Master."

I felt funny saying those things suddenly, like they weren't quite right.

"Drew, I'll do anything. I need you inside me."

His fingers plunged deep. I moaned.

"God, Drew, please. Don't make me say it. I need you."

I felt him pull away, and I must have come to my senses a little bit, because I could hear him open his fly, and the rip of a condom package. Then I could feel him poised, and I stood up on tiptoe, and this time I did arch my back hard, and I didn't care if it made me look like a hussy, there in a corset and no bottoms. I wanted him so much. I was concentrating so hard on how good he felt that I forgot that my feet were cuffed. I went to open my legs wider and put one foot on the bed—

At the exact same time Drew tapped the middle of the spreader bar hard with his foot and the vibrations went all the way up my legs and right to my core.

Holy shit. Now I know what those leather and fabric connectors are for. There were some kind of springs inside, and part of what they do is turn the whole device into a tuning fork.

Drew tapped it again, harder, and the vibration went right up to my clitoris.

I cried out.

Drew found that spot and worked it with his fingers, and then his tongue. Just when I was going to start begging again he said, "Come."

I came hard. My orgasm slammed into me, splintering me apart and pulling me right back together.

Drew plunged into me, one fast punch that had me spasming around him with a second orgasm that surprised me. I squeezed my fists, clenching down on the rope with my nails. My whole body seemed to open from my heart, fly apart, and sparkle.

I screamed, a guttural moan-yell that escaped as I flipped into an even higher level of pleasure.

"That's it," he said.

He grabbed my hips, and set a pace, fast enough to match my galloping heart, but slow enough that I could savor every stroke.

I thought I heard him mumbling, very, very softly, but I couldn't make out the words. His hands heated to the point where they felt like he had a fever. I could picture them scalding and leaving red marks on my pale skin, although I knew they wouldn't.

"You drive me wild, Lee."

He pulled out completely, and the loss of heat felt like a little death.

I turned around to look at him.

"You are so fucking sexy," he said. "I don't want to blow my wad too soon. I feel like I've got two or three rounds in me, but I'm not sure. I want to make sure I take care of you."

I was about to say he could finish any time he wanted, that everything had already been so amazing. Then he took off his shirt, and anything I had started to say died in my throat.