Give To You
Sonni de Soto
A Donovan’s Door short story
Make-up sex makes everything better!
Brides are supposed to be excited about their wedding days, right? But Peter Richards hasn’t been able to get his wife-to-be’s attention at all. He knows that Kat’s been swept up by the excitement of getting her first book published, but this is their wedding! When he tries to talk to her about it, they just end up fighting, leaving him wondering whether she cares about him at all.
Kat Valdez knows that she should be helping Peter with all the plans and preparations but, with time and pressure bearing down, it feels like being forced to choose between marrying the man of her dreams and achieving her lifelong aspiration. Upset over all this arguing, Kat packs up and leaves their sunny, coastal home to stay with her parents, hoping to find peace and answers in her snowy, hometown haven. She just needs a break. To think about their lives. About their future. And how—and if—they fit together in it.
Peter, while he understands her need for space, doesn’t need time to know that he wants Kat in his life. She might need a break, but his life won’t feel right until they’re back together again. So, with his toy bag in hand and a kinky plan in his head, he treks north, determined to convince her how cold and lonely life is apart by reminding her how hot they can get together.
Give To You is a 9,100-word short story.
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Peter pulled out his phone and dialed. Fiddling with the Bluetooth headset, he heard her phone ring in the other room. He pocketed his phone and paced closer, cracking the kitchen door open just a touch when she answered. “Hello, Peter.”
“How’s the day off?” He stared at her sitting cross-legged at the kitchen table in front of her laptop. “Relaxing?”
He saw her excitedly sit up and save her file, her fingers flying over her keyboard. “Very,” she replied before shutting the laptop and giving him her full attention. “And productive.”
“That’s good.” He smiled. One thing was for sure, Kat had been working very hard for a very long time but it was time for her to play again. She needed this, he knew. Theyneeded this. “Are you busy right now?”
“Nope,” she told him, turning around in her chair to stare out the window. “I’m all yours.”
“Good.” He grinned at that, loving her way with words. “I want you to do something for me.” He backed away from the door and reached for his bag.
“Okay.” He could hear the shrug in her voice. “What?”
“Tell me what you’re wearing,” he said lasciviously.
“What?” She laughed, sounding shocked.
“Tell me what you’re wearing,” he playfully repeated the overused cliché. “Tell me slowly.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope,” he told her as he laid out some things in the twinkle-lit room. “Tell me, Katherina.”
She giggled. Again, he imagined her slim shoulders shrug before she said, “An old high school sweatshirt, yoga pants, and fuzzy socks?”
He laughed at the question in her voice, her submissive mind wondering about his intentions. She really ought to have known. “Take it off.”
“Excuse me?” she balked.
“Take,” he repeated again, “it off.”
“My parents could come home any minute,” she hissed, scandalized and a little intrigued, if he heard her right.
They wouldn’t be, he knew. Before leaving for Kat’s childhood home, Peter had settled her parents into a nice hotel for the next few days as a reward for helping him make things up to Kat. And an excuse to keep them away while he did so.
But Kat didn’t know that. “Do it anyway,” he urged, trying to stoke that rebellious flare in her. After a lifetime of walking the line of what everyone else wanted her and expected her to be, Kat liked to push boundaries with him, liked very much to see how far she could go. He wanted to push her now. “Come on, Kat,” he said. “Do it for me.”
She let out a short, mischievous, defiant laugh. “Okay.”
He heard her put down the phone and then a rustle of movement and cloth. After a few moments, he heard her again. “Okay,” she said, “I did it.”
That was his girl. “Good,” he purred over the connection. “Very good.” Bag still in hand, he crept down the stairs again, happy with the trap he’d set. “Go into the living room,” he told her as he quietly shut the door and turned on his tablet computer.
“Peter?” she asked, her voice suspicious and hopeful.
“Go, Katherina.” He didn’t want her to think too long about it. On the tablet screen, he could see live footage from the small camera he’d placed hidden among the twinkling Christmas lights.
God, she was beautiful. For a moment, he just stared at her image, zooming in as she looked about the room. Naked, her exquisite, saison-shaded skin shone like an angel’s as she walked around the space, a look of marvel and wonder on her expressive face.
She was so lovely, slim and perfect. She wasn’t curvy, not really, more softly rounded, but her body molded to his hands like a dream. While small, half-a-foot shorter than him, her limbs were long and sculpted. And, while thin, he knew that she was stronger than she looked, capable of so much.
She giggled at her magical surroundings, her breasts jiggling slightly as she clapped her hands over her mouth. Peter’s gaze centered on her delectable nipples, dark and still soft in the warm, comfortable house. Knowing they wouldn’t stay that way long, his eyes widened, feeling eager. “Head toward the coffee table.”
“Peter?” She turned around, looking about the room. “Are you here?”
“Coffee table, Kat,” he urged again.
He watched her turn and look down at the short table at the foot of the overstuffed couch. She put down the phone and reached out to pick up the long chain, the gold glittering in the subtle light. Even on his screen in the dim lighting, Peter could see his ring tied in the middle of the chain, the emerald hanging low as she held it out in front of her.
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