This earns its 'M' rating, and also depicts/discusses a consensual BDSM type relationship, and graphic description of (somewhat mild) BDSM-type sex. Consider yourself forewarned, and please don't read if this isn't your cup o' tea.
"I can't believe people read that filth in public," Luke Wheeler said, staring straight ahead. He set his coffee cup down on the table in front of him.
Rayna Jaymes turned behind her to follow his gaze. She saw a woman in her late 30s with a macchiato, a croissant, and what appeared to be a well-worn copy of Fifty Shades of Grey.
Rayna turned back to Luke, smiled and just shrugged before taking a sip of her iced coffee.
"Wait…" Luke said, eyeing her suspiciously, "Have you read those books?"
She laughed, "I thumbed through them in the bookstore, but I haven't read all of them, no." She replied, pursing her lips.
"And?" He leaned across the table.
She brought her coffee to her lips, trying to hide behind it as she spoke, "And… I didn't really think it was very… it wasn't…" She waved her hand dismissively in front of her.
"Wasn't what?" He prompted.
"It wasn't very true to the spirit of BDSM." She was whispering, not sure this was a conversation fit for public consumption.
"Not true to the…" Luke stared at her. "Spirit of BDSM?"
Rayna nodded, hoping the conversation would die there, knowing it wouldn't.
"What's the spirit of BDSM, Rayna?" His voice held thinly veiled anger.
She sighed, setting her cup down in front of her, "It's a conversation. Above all else, it's consensual; an explicit agreement between two people who want to engage in power play dynamics. From what I read of that trilogy, it didn't seem like that was the case at all. In the end, the guy even gives it up because it's treated as some kind of pathology." She shrugged, "Some kind of sexual deviancy borne of trauma. It's not. At least, not all the time." She waved her hand, "And a lot of it was pretty vanilla, anyway."
Luke gaped at her, "Power play? Vanilla? Rayna, what in the hell are you talking about?"
"Nothing. Fifty Shades of Grey."
"And… how do you know all of this?"
She finished the last of her iced coffee, and stood to throw the cup away. "I read an article about it."
Luke eyed her suspiciously, "You… read an article? Really, Rayna?"
She'd always been a bad liar. She tossed her cup in the trashcan and turned to face him with her hands on her hips. "Look, can we not do this here?" She asked, looking around the coffee shop that was brimming with people. She had some idea of what was to come, and she'd rather random strangers not witness it.
"Fine." Luke said, grabbing his cup and tossing it in the trash. "Let's go." He said, pushing the door of the coffee shop open.
When they entered her house, he turned on her, his voice so loud she was thankful Maddie and Daphne were at school.
"What the hell do you know about BDSM, Rayna?"
Rayna dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, and turned to face him. "I told you. I read an article." She probably shouldn't have tried to lie again, but she couldn't help it.
Luke stepped closer to her, "Bullshit, Rayna." He pointed at her, "You've always been a terrible liar."
She sat down at a barstool, and looked at him. She'd imagined this would be a big deal, which is why she'd kept it under wraps, but she didn't realize it would be quite such a big deal. Her tone was resigned, "Fine. I may have…" She searched her mind for the right word, "Experimented in the past." She finished, watching him as he received this information.
"You…. Experimented?" He asked, eyebrow raised.
She really wished he'd stop repeating everything she said. "Yes." She said, "And can we please just leave it at that?" She knew her attempt was futile, but she felt compelled to try anyway.
"Uh, no, Rayna, we can't just leave it at that. You're my fiancée, and you didn't think it might be a good idea to tell me this?"
Rayna laughed, "When is a good time for that conversation, Luke? It's not like we've spent a great deal of time talking about our sex lives prior to our relationship."
"You experiment with Teddy, then?" He asked, and Rayna watched as he tried to wrap his head around that idea. She nearly laughed at the thought of trying something like that with Teddy. She'd never even told Teddy about any of this, the same way she'd intended not to tell Luke.
She shook her head, "No. Not Teddy."
Luke's gaze darkened, "Don't tell me, Rayna." He leaned on the bar of the kitchen, "Don't tell me you… experimented in BDSM with… Deacon."
Rayna felt herself flush, kept her lips tightly pressed; at his look, she spoke, "Okay. I won't tell you." Rayna felt heat spread through her body at the memories that came: the first night they experimented in his hotel room, the second time they tried it in hers, a club in San Francisco once while they were on tour, an edgy moment while she was still married to Teddy. By the time she'd cycled through them rapid-fire, her face was hot to the touch, and she knew Luke could see the color.
Luke sat down on the barstool next to her, looking like someone had knocked the wind out of him, "You should have told me, Rayna."
Rayna laughed, "Given your massive sore spot when it comes to Deacon, how would you have liked me to tell you that? Really, I'd like to know, what would have been your preference for receiving that information?"
"When was the last time?" His voice was rough.
"Luke…" She warned.
"When was the last time? And what… role did you play in all of this?" He didn't know much about BDSM, admittedly, but his ex-wife had loved those damn books, so he'd learned a bit here and there. Enough to ask questions he didn't want to know the answer to.
Rayna stood up, and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water. "Luke, I'm not going to do this with you."
He fixed her with a hard gaze, and his words were pointed when he spoke, barely containing his rage, "When was the last time, Rayna?"
She slammed the refrigerator door. "Right before I got into the accident, okay?" She twisted the top off the bottle.
Luke shut his eyes, his voice low and dark, "And what role did you play, Rayna?"
Rayna felt the rage surge through her body, and she slammed the bottle in her hand down on the kitchen counter. Water spilled out, and she shook her hand off, "I was submissive to Deacon, okay. Is that what you want to hear? Does that make it better?" She asked, her eyes wild, "Or worse?"
Luke ran a hand over his face and groaned, "Christ, Rayna." Luke slammed his hand down on the counter, "You should have told me! I'm just now finding out that the woman I'm supposed to marry in a few months has… what? What do I even call them? Domination fantasies?" He laughed, "What am I supposed to do? Just step into that role?"
She put her hand on her hip, the remnants of the water soaking into her jeans, "I don't have fantasies about being dominated, okay?" She shook her head, "And I never asked you to do that. I never even told you about this."
"Wait… you don't have fantasiesabout this? Then why did you…?" Suddenly, realization dawned. Rayna watched it hit Luke's face, and she braced herself. "You only have fantasies about being dominated by Deacon." Rayna cast her eyes downward, "Great." He said, shaking his head, and then laughing, "That's just great. Tell me, Rayna, do you still have those fantasies about Deacon?"
She didn't bring her eyes up to meet his, which was all the answer he really needed. He didn't need the stammering "I…I… no." That followed to get the truth.
He stood up with such force that the barstool crashed to the ground. Rayna jumped as it clattered against the floor. He turned and headed for the door, his footfalls on the tile heavy and filled with rage.
"Where are you going?" She asked.
"I don't know." He said, "Anywhere but here," He turned to look at her over his shoulder, "I feel like I don't even know who you are, Rayna." He pulled the door open, "I can't marry someone I don't even know." He said, before he slammed it behind him.
She jumped at the noise, and then took in the silence of the room. She thought she should feel sad—she knew Luke wasn't coming back. He wasn't coming back today, he probably wasn't ever coming back. She should feel upset. She should cry.
But a few moments ago, she was deep down memory lane, and the only thing she felt was an incredible need building inside of her. The only thing she felt was turned on.
She tried to calm herself down, but the memories kept coming back to her: a phone call when she was on tour right after her divorce, the night before her first CMAs; she'd worked a long time to keep a lid on these memories, and now that they were out in the open again, she was reeling.
She had two choices: she could go upstairs and take a shower, try to think about anything else. Or, she could get in her car.
She had her keys in her hand before she even fully formed the thought.
#
Standing on his porch, she knocked on his door, and when he swings it open, she can tell he's surprised to see her standing there. His eyebrows shot up, and his blue eyes widened slightly.
"Hey," She said, smiling, "Is Megan here? Are you alone?" She asked, peeking around him into the house, trying to get a view.
He nodded, "Scarlett's out, Megan's at work. With your ex-husband, I might add. I'm alone. What's up, Rayna?"
She smiled, "Can I come in?"
"Sure," He held the door open, closing it behind her as she came in.
She sat on his couch, and he stood for a second staring at her, before sitting in the chair across from the couch.
"I think Luke and I broke up." She said, folding her hands in her lap.
Deacon stared at her, "You think?"
Rayna laughed, "I'm pretty sure we did, yeah."
"I'm sorry," Deacon offered, in a way that made it clear that he wasn't, really. "What happened?" He asked, unsure what to actually ask in this situation.
"We just figured out we had irreconcilable differences before the wedding, I suppose." She shrugged.
"Okay," He drew the word out, "What really happened, Ray?"
"We had…" Rayna tilted her head, trying to find the right words, "A conversation… about BDSM." She watched his face as she spoke, and aside from flinching slightly, he gave nothing away, "And I guess he figured out that we just aren't compatible, he and I." She shrugged, "I guess I should feel sad, but I… just don't."
While she was speaking, Deacon's leg started bouncing, "What? He didn't want to… dominate you?" Deacon asked, his gaze darkening.
Rayna watched something pass over his face, something that looked suspiciously like a mixture of rage and jealousy.
She laughed, "I didn't ask him to." Her eyes fluttered to his leg, which stopped bouncing as she noticed it, "He just found out that I had… experimented." She considered her next words carefully, "Though I got the distinct impression that it was who I experimented with that bothered him the most."
Deacon grunted slightly, "I'm sure he'll come around. Be begging to experiment with you."
Rayna narrowed her eyes as she thought, "Thing is… I'm not so sure I want him to come around." She shrugged, "And even if he did, I'm not interested in… that… with anyone else."
"You're not?" He asked, a slow smile spreading across his face.
She was surprised that he even asked her that. She'd always assumed it was a thing just between them. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her which sent a jolt of panic through her veins, "Do you play like that with Megan?" She asked, her voice soft. She hadn't planned on asking that question, but she blurted it out nonetheless, filled with a sudden need to know.
He chuckled, "Uh, no, Ray. You're the only one I ever done that with. You're the only one I was ever interested in doing that with."
She smiled, pleased with his answer, "Why do you think that is?" She questioned, though she already knew the answer.
He sighed, and leaned forward, "Trust, I guess."
She nodded, "Trust," She repeated back to him. She folded her arms over her chest. "Do you still trust me, Deacon?" She hadn't asked him this since before the accident. So much had changed between them, and as much as she wanted to just give in to her desire and ignore the question, she had to know that it could still be the same for them.
Deacon tipped his chin down, shooting her a warning look, "What are you asking me, Rayna?"
A smile spread slowly across her face, "What do you think I'm asking you?"
His gaze darkened, "I know what I think you're asking me. What are you asking me?"
She smiled, and rose off the couch. She made her way over to him, and planted her feet in front of the chair. She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair.
"Rayna…" He warned, through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the way she was looking at him. He had a girlfriend; he kept reciting that little tidbit over and over in his head. He kept repeating it as though he didn't know he'd just been biding his time, waiting for Rayna. If he'd known what Megan was doing with Teddy, he wouldn't have even bothered to think of her at all.
She ran a finger over his collarbone, feeling him through his shirt. "I'm asking you…" She trailed off, her fingernail scratching lightly over the bare skin of his neck, "If you want to play…" She dug her nails into his skin, just a little. She leaned her head forward, until her mouth was right against his ear. She dropped her voice an octave, "Sir."
She watched his hands grip the arms of the char, saw his fingers dig into the fabric. Smiling, she put one knee on the side of him, and swung the other over, until she was straddling him.
Balancing herself on her knees, she ran her fingernails through his hair, and then bent her head to his neck. She ran her tongue lightly over the flesh there, before turning her attention to his ear. She bit it, breathing into it, as she dropped herself on his lap.
"I mean… I can feel that you want to. But… do you want to?" She asked, her breath in his ear. Her hair fell down around his shoulders. She'd always known what her breath in his ear did to him, and she saw a shiver run through his body.
He grabbed her hair in his fist and pulled her back—it was rough, but not too rough. He had a wild look in his eyes when his gaze met hers. "Do you want to do this, Rayna?" He asked.
She let out a small laugh, "Yes." She said, staring at him.
Deacon tugged on the hair in his hand, pulling it. His voice was rough with desire when he spoke, "Yes, what?" He asked, his mouth slightly open.
Rayna smiled as she felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her body. She had always been incredibly turned on by how quickly he could shift into this role between them. After their first time, whenever she'd made it clear she wanted it, he would slide so easily into the role that it drove her crazy. It was such a shift in the usual power dynamics between them that it amazed her how well he took over; it amazed her how much she needed him to take over, sometimes.
Her voice was thick with desire for him. "Yes, sir." She amended.
He loosened his grasp on her hair, "That's better," He said, toying with the ends of her strands. "Now, stand up." He commanded.
She climbed off of him, planting her feet on the ground.
His eyes raked over her, "Take your shirt off." He said, his gaze returning to her face.
Her lip curled, as her fingers reached for the buttons on her shirt. She undid them one by one, looking into Deacon's eyes, realizing at once how much she'd missed seeing the hunger there. When it was unbuttoned, she let it fall to the floor.
"Bra, too." He commanded, staring at her exposed flesh, the expanse of her stomach. "I want to see your tits."
Rayna felt his words between her legs, and she nearly moaned. She'd always loved when he talked dirty to her, even before they started dabbling in power play. The dirtier the better, sometimes; it drove her wild.
She reached behind her to unclasp her bra, moving it down her body, dropping it with her shirt. Her nipples instantly puckered, and she watched Deacon's eyes drop to her chest. She saw his breathing hitch a little, and she was pleased; she'd always loved the way Deacon looked at her, like she was something he was about to feast on and she was happy to see that hadn't changed.
"Now the rest," He directed.
She smiled as she reached for the button on her jeans, as his gaze remained on her chest. She kicked her heels off, and then peeled her pants off, dropping them in a pile with her clothes.
She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties.
"Go slow." Deacon's voice was stern as he dragged his eyes back up to her face. "I like to watch you." She nodded, enjoying how he qualified that—he didn't just like to watch. He liked to watch her.
She slowly slid her panties down, watching Deacon's eyes trace her movements. When they were halfway down her thighs, she dropped them, and stepped out of them.
"Good girl." He whispered, his eyes slowly raking over every inch of her naked body. She felt fully exposed as he sat there, fully clothed, his erection straining at his jeans. She felt exhilarated. Deacon smirked, "Touch yourself."
Rayna hesitated—no matter how much they'd done together, for how long, she'd always felt self-conscious doing that in front of him. "Where?" She asked, her voice soft.
"Don't play games with me," He dropped his gaze between her legs, "You know where."
Rayna moved her right hand between her legs, feeling herself. She closed her eyes.
"No." Deacon said, "Eyes open. Look at me."
Rayna forced her eyes open, fixing her gaze on Deacon. She saw the desire in his eyes, and felt herself flush in both arousal and embarrassment.
Deacon shifted in his chair, "Are you wet?"
Rayna swiped a finger along her length. She was; she really, really was. She nodded, "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tell me."
"I'm so wet, sir." She said, her eyes closing halfway; they snapped open again when she remembered Deacon's directive.
"Good girl." He whispered, "Put two fingers inside."
She bit back a smile. He was really making her work for this today; she'd never been particularly fond of doing this to herself, even without an audience. Still, she obliged, sliding her fingers inside herself with ease. She worked them in and out a few times, before Deacon rose from the chair to stand in front of her. He tugged on the wrist of the hand that was between her legs, guiding her hand up to his mouth.
He held her fingers up, looking at the wetness that coated them, and then smirked at her. "You weren't lying about being wet." He took her two fingers in his mouth, and moaned around them; after he'd licked them clean, he released them. "God, I've missed the taste of your pussy." He whispered.
Rayna felt her face flush, and a deep throbbing began between her legs.
Deacon put a hand on her shoulder, "On your knees," He commanded, and she dropped to her knees in front of him. "Remind me what a good little cocksucker you are," He said, as though he could ever possibly forget.
Rayna brought her hands to the button on his jeans, and then looked up at him. When he nodded, she unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped him, and worked them down over his hips. His arousal was evident by the bulge in his briefs. She pulled his briefs down, and his cock sprang free. She licked her lips, and placed her hand on his thighs.
Deacon tilted her face up to look at him, "Don't make me come." He said roughly, "Understand?"
Rayna nodded, and leaned in, her tongue darting out to touch the tip of him. She closed her eyes, remembering his taste, and then she leaned forward to kiss the head of his cock.
"Eyes open." He said, "Look at me."
She snapped her eyes open, and leaned forward again, circling his cock with her tongue.
"Good girl," He said, grabbing a fistful of her hair.
She opened her mouth fully and took him in, working her way down his shaft, never breaking eye contact with him. He started to pump his hips into her mouth, and she moaned around him.
"Fuck," He said, "I forgot how much you like this." He thrust into her mouth, "You do like this, don't you?"
She knew what he wanted. She spoke around his cock, "Yes, sir." She said, looking directly at him, and he let out a loud groan. It was the truth. She'd always loved using her mouth on Deacon. With anyone else, she could really take or leave it, but there was just something about him that made her want to make him come with her mouth. She sucked him harder, bringing her hand to the base.
Obviously on to her game, Deacon pulled her hair back, and pulled himself out of her mouth. "What did I say about making me come?"
"Sorry, sir." She said, still on her knees, the pulsing between her legs growing stronger.
"Bedroom." He said, untangling his fingers from her hair.
She rose from her knees, and walked to his bedroom, feeling his eyes on her the entire way. When she got there, she touched her fingers to her lips. She could still taste him. She ran her tongue over her lips, and shuddered at the thought of her mouth on his cock.
When he came to the bedroom, he was nude, his arousal for her still completely evident.
"On the bed. Hands and knees." He said. "Ass in the air."
Rayna's eyes widened, and her stomach dropped a little. She hadn't been that exposed to a man in a very long time. He was fully intent on exercising the trust between them today, apparently.
Obediently, she crawled on to the bed, propping herself on all fours, burying her face into the bed. She felt the cool air on her hot flesh, and she swallowed hard, knowing she was truly exposed, feeling his hot gaze on her.
"Look at that." Deacon said, stepping closer to the bed, "I can see how wet you are." He reached a finger out, and ran it along her length. When he encountered her wetness, he made a faint hissing sound. Unexpectedly, he drove two fingers into her. Rayna cried out in shock, then in pleasure, as he worked them in and out of her. "Is this what you want, Rayna?" He asked, using her name for the first time since their scene began. He drove his fingers in again, harder. With his other hand, he reached around and pinched her nipple, hard. She cried out in pleasure-pain.
"No, sir. It's not what I want."
"No?" He asked, pumping his fingers in and out of her. "What do you want, then?"
"I want your cock," She said, her voice coated with desire, "I want you to fuck me."
"Is that right?" Deacon asked, stilling his fingers. "How do you want me to fuck you?"
She let out a low moan before she answered; "However you want to fuck me, sir." She said, pressing herself back into his hand.
Deacon thrust his fingers in and out again, "Damn right." He said, before pulling his fingers out. "Turn over," He said gruffly, "I want to see your face while I fuck you."
She rolled over onto her back, and Deacon brought his fingers to her center again, this time adding a third finger to the mix. Her eyes widened as he worked it into her, moving in and out slowly.
"Please, Deacon," She said, whispering his name.
"Please what?" He said, watching his fingers slide in and out of her. "I want to hear you beg."
"Please," She drew the word out, whimpering, "Please fuck me." She grew frustrated as he worked his fingers; she desperately needed to feel his cock between her legs. She suppressed a grin; she knew exactly how to make him stop teasing her, "Please fuck me like the little slut that I am."
At her words, Deacon smirked, pulled his fingers out, and positioned himself at her entrance, his cock touching her folds.
"You're my slut." He said, bringing his fingers to her mouth. His fingers were once again coated with her wetness; she tried to turn her head, but he clicked his tongue, "Taste yourself." He said, his fingers pressing against her lips. He eased them inside her mouth, rubbing them over her tongue. "That's it," He growled, when she looked directly at him and sucked. When his fingers were clean, he pulled them out of her mouth, "Now, tell me you're my slut."
"I'm your slut," She whispered, "Only ever your slut."
As the word escaped her lips, he pushed his cock all the way into her, and Rayna gasped, then moaned. He began to pump in and out of her, slowly at first. "Touch your clit." He said, as he moved inside of her, "But you can't come until I give you permission, understand?"
She nodded, and reached a hand down in between them, feeling for her clit. She moaned again when she found it, as Deacon began to thrust harder and faster. Deacon watched her face, felt her tighten around him, and he tilted his head back.
Rayna worked her clit harder, and Deacon dropped his head to look at her; he could tell she was close, and he reached down and stilled her hand, "Not yet." He said, moving her hand away from herself. He reached out and grasped her breast, rubbing and squeezing, pinching her nipple as he thrust in and out of her. Rayna felt his movements becoming jerky and erratic, and she knew that he was close, too. The thought made her ache even more, and she tilted her hips up to meet him thrust for thrust.
"Please let me come, Deacon," She whimpered, "Please let me come, sir." She said, bringing her hand to play with her other breast.
"That's it," Deacon grunted, "That's it." He pumped into her, hard and fast, "Do it." He said, fucking her faster, his own release imminent, "Come for me. Let me hear you come, slut."
At his words, Rayna felt herself contract around Deacon, and then the waves of pleasure rolled over her. "Fuck!" She shouted, "I'm coming," She stretched her hands out to clutch the sheets, as she felt her body shudder.
Deacon's hips jerked forward and he cried out, his voice hoarse as he spilled into her. He pumped into her a few more times, riding out his climax, then shuddered as he collapsed on top of her.
She brought her hands up to his back, and ran her fingernails up and down his back, enjoying his weight on her body. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, and he placed an open mouthed kiss there.
"That was…" He whispered, his mouth still pressed against her skin.
"Hot." She finished.
Deacon nodded, "Yeah." And then they both chuckled, remembering the very first time they'd ever experimented like this. They'd come to the exact same conclusion back then, too.
Deacon pushed himself onto his elbows, and then rolled to the left of Rayna, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look at her.
Her hair was slightly wet at the temple from her sweat, and he pushed her hair back out of her face. "You," He said, kissing her forehead, "Are something else."
She laughed deeply, "The same could be said for you." She said.
"You surprised the hell out of me." He whispered.
"Nothing about us surprises me anymore," She said, laughing.
"I suppose that's true," He said, leaning down to kiss her on the mouth. His tongue darted inside, and he moaned; she tasted of herself.
He pulled back and kissed her chin, then placed little kisses along her jawline, moving down her neck. He kissed her chest, and then each breast. Positioning himself so he could move lower, he kissed her stomach, her lower abdomen, each one of her thighs.
"Spread your legs for me, baby," He said, his voice gentle as his fingers traced circles on her outer thighs.
"Deacon," She whispered, reaching her hand down to stroke his hair, "You don't have to…"
He smiled, and pushed at her knees, "I know. But I want to."
At his words, she let her legs fall open. He kissed each of her inner thighs, and then he looked at her core. "You're so beautiful, Rayna." He whispered, lowering his head.
She felt his tongue on her, and she gasped sharply, enjoying the flat of his tongue along her folds. She clutched the sheets when he moved to her clit. He sucked and kissed and licked her so gently, her orgasm building slowly with every move he made. She reached down and grabbed his hair, holding him to her, and he moaned against her. Suddenly, she felt her orgasm ripple through her, and he held his mouth down on her as she ground against her face. When she was done, he licked and kissed her a few more times, before he made his way back up to her, dropping kisses as he made his way to her mouth.
She kissed him, and then tucked her head into his chest. "Mm… thank you." She said, still reeling from the orgasm he'd just given her with his mouth.
He kissed her hair, and then combed his fingers through it gently.
"I love you, you know." He said quietly, "And not just for this."
She smiled against his chest, "I know. I love you, too. Always have, always will."
Suddenly, Deacon started laughing, his body shaking with it.
"What?" She asked, turning her head to look at him. Smiling because he was smiling.
"Did you really lecture Luke Wheeler on BDSM?"
Rayna laughed harder, then, remembering the scene from earlier. She nodded, "I did. I extolled the virtues of BDSM for him, actually. Told him it was a conversation. There was talk about the spirit of it all."
Deacon ran his hand down her arm, his body shaking with renewed laughter, "I would have loved to have seen his face."
"It was pretty funny." She said. "So," She drummed her fingers on his chest, "What now?"
Deacon sighed, "Now… I go break up with my girlfriend." He laughed a little, "And then I come back and make sweet, sweet love to you." She giggled as he ran his hand down her back, "And then maybe tomorrow we break out some of those toys we bought in Miami that one time."
Rayna laughed, propping herself up to look at him, "You still have those?" She asked.
"Of course I do." He winked at her, "Always had to hold on to the fantasy that I'd have you here, like this again." Deacon slid out of bed and pulled his clothes on. "I'll make you a sandwich before I leave, you're going to need your strength."
Giggling, she stood up, reaching for a flannel shirt tucked into the chair in the corner, "Oh, is that right?" She slid her arms into it and began buttoning it.
Deacon nodded, grabbing her around the waist, pulling her to him. He kissed her tenderly on the lips, "That's right." He laughed, "Maybe later we can even have a repeat of Jacksonville," He kissed her again, and Rayna moaned, thinking about the first time she'd turned the tables on him and taken control. He pulled away, "In the spirit of it all."
Rayna chuckled, "Shut up, and kiss me."
Deacon bent his head, "Yes, ma'am."
#
This is either done, or it isn't… depending on how well this one goes over.