Poor Little Rich Slut (22 page)

Three weeks later…

I brought the groceries up the stairs to the kitchen. I planned a feast for my friend Renee, a five course French dinner—I was learning to cook. After three weeks held up in the condo nursing my wounded psyche, I needed company. Renee had lived next door to me in
California
when I was in grad school; she’d been taking art classes at
Berkeley
.
Just the person I needed. She’d understand and she wouldn’t judge.

I was putting away the vegetables thinking of the pasta dish I planned, when I suddenly felt an eerie sensation of déjà vu—something from my recent past. Peering absently into the living room, I jumped back and shrieked
,
the bags of vegetables dropped to the floor.

“What the…”

Garrison. It was Garrison. He turned around at the sound of my voice, just as he had in my office the first day on the job.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. For the first time since I can remember that beautiful mocking smile radiated from his face. I felt a huge pang of regret and longing roll through me.

“I’m here to see you.”

“See me, and what?”

“Bring you back.”

I stared dumbfounded. “What?
The prodigal daughter?
The shamed princess?
You want to gloat?”

“No gloating. I want you.”

I was starting to shake all over. My head felt faint.

“Me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Was this some dream—had to be.
Wake up, Eleanor, it’s just a dream.

“It means exactly what I said,” he said kindly, not the man who tore through my body in a rage when we were last together. “I miss you. I made some big mistakes; I should never have let you come here in the first place. But the truth is I want you.”

I thought I’d just been transported to the Twilight Zone. But until I knew for sure, I couldn’t afford to let my feelings get away from me.

“Right.
You want me.” I didn’t believe him. “Are you forgetting that I’m the drunken,
slutty
, poor little rich girl who has just ruined her reputation, not to mention her
father’s.
I’m sure I’d only mess things up worse,” I spat bitterly. “I’m sure I’d end up being as much an embarrassment to you as I am to my father.”

“No, Ellie, that’s not going to happen,” he came back right away.

“Oh? You think not? Why’s that?” I shook my head, this was so absurd.

“I won’t let you mess up.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Really.”

“So, how’s that
work.
You keep me collared and leashed my whole life? Put me in a cage—that worked nicely once.”

“If that’s what it takes, yes, I suppose so.”

“Right,” I smiled wryly. “You’d have to marry me to do that, Garrison Tate.”

“Okay, then that’s what I’ll do.” He said it so fast, my head was spinning.

“You’ll what?” He certainly had my attention now.

“I’ll marry you,” he said.

“That’s ridiculous. You don’t mean that.”

“But I do.”

“No.” I shook my head. “This is absurd.”

“Maybe so, but I love you, Ellie.” He moved closer, carefully. I felt like backing up.

“How could you love me after you left me the way you did?”

“I didn’t know what was going on then… but you know when you have time to think, lots of time to think, things come to you…”

“Yeah, go on…”

“I finally faced why I hated that night you spent in the dungeon. It turned my stomach and I now know why. If you’re going to grovel on any floor you’re going to be groveling for me, not the rest of the world. I was wrong to set you up with another man. I want you to be my groveling slut, Ellie, not someone else’s. That was my mistake.”

“Yes. It was a mistake. You hurt me, Garrison,” I said. I still could not let my guard down.

“I know and I’m sorry.”

“And saying that, that’s it? It’s all fixed?”

He looked a little vulnerable now, less self-assured. “It’s a place to start.”

I couldn’t answer him; I felt frozen in my shoes, my tongue tied in a knot.

We stood there facing each other saying nothing for a long time. Then I shook my head sadly. So much emotion, so much to be afraid of…

“Don’t you realize that I loved
you!
” I finally cried out. “I fell in love with you, damn you, Garrison Tate. You lead me into the path of an unrighteous life and then what do you do? You sorry soul, you judged me.” I could feel my anger gathering steam. Although when I spoke, it was more tears than anger; they fell like a much needed rain on parched ground.
“You ass.
You fucking ass!” I bowed my head and cried. “Out, get out, please!”

Garrison was never one to follow anyone’s orders. Despite my plea, he made up the distance between us and pulled me close. My head rested on his chest, where I immediately treasured the warmth that flowed from him to me.

“Daddy sent you, didn’t he?” I said between sobs.

“No, Ellie, your Daddy didn’t send me. I came on my own. I’m in love with you, Ellie. I honestly am.”

I looked up at him through my tears. “So, tell me about that—about loving me.”

He stroked my head; his fingers gently raking through my hair.

“I fell in love with you the good old-fashioned way.
Watching you.
Watching you move and tease and smile. Even the way you eat turns me on. I love your eyes, your hair, your perky tits, your fabulous mind…the way you think… I may not have done any of the right things before, but I’m doing the best I can now. And I can’t, I won’t see you fall into the hands of anyone who’s out to hurt you.”

This felt so much like love.

“Why didn’t you say this before?”

“I don’t know. I’m a scoundrel, huh? Rogue mentality. I guess I’m a regular ass… just as you said. I’m not supposed to feel these things, but I do. It’s been hell without you. That’s the short and long of it. That’s why I’m here.”

“Oh, but go back there? I don’t know.” I pulled away a bit.

“We’ll stay here then.”

“What about your job?”

“Fuck the job.”

“Garrison, you love your job!”

“I love you more. A job’s a job.”

“You’ve lost your mind!”

“Loving you is losing my mind? It’s what you want, isn’t it?
My love.”

I couldn’t speak.

“We’ll get married today, soon as we can. Would that show you?”

“Garrison I don’t know what the hell I want. I’m still mixed up. What if all I want to do is run on the beach and paint and read and shop at flea markets. What if I want nothing but jeans and baggy shirts to wear? What if I want to dye my hair red and paint my nails purple? Or make babies that I coo at all day long and I rock to sleep at night. What if I want to work as a waitress, or do porn movies, or never, ever work again? Could you still love me, no matter what?”

“What is this?
You trying
to talk me out of it?”

“I still want outrageous sex, Garrison. The nasty stuff you took great pains to end. It’s not out of my system, not yet.
Maybe never.
If you don’t like me groveling…”

“I said you could grovel for me, just not anyone else. Stop making this hard, Ellie.”

“You can’t judge me,” I spat out my last condition with a trace of bitterness.

His face turned a little cool. “And you can’t throw
that
comment in my face again,” he said. “That’s
my
only condition. Besides, I wasn’t judging you; I was fighting my own feelings. It’s what men often do, at least this one.”

I hadn’t any excuses left, used them all up. How could I have asked for anything more from him than what he so sincerely offered? He loved me, and I certainly loved him—I think I had from the moment we met.

“Okay, then,” I finally said. I was in a daze, but it seemed like a good daze. And though my mind was a blank, I managed to add as if I said it every day, “So, let’s get married.”

I got drunk on wine that night as we honeymooned in the
Paris
condo. Getting drunk was really an accident; the wine was good and I just kept drinking, putting myself in a pleasant, if not a bit nervous,
stupor
. After all, this was my wedding night.

When it was very late, and I was very horny and very happy, I stood in front of my husband and played his humble slave. “I’m yours,” I said sexily. I was so ready for sex.

Seeing me so in my erotic submissive space, his lip curled derisively. His eyes danced with the evil I love and he coldly barked his first command.
“So, on the floor, slut!”
His voice roared through me.

I quaked to my core and dropped to my knees, shaking nervously. I couldn’t wait for more.

“Strip!”

I shed my clothes as quickly as I could, trembling all the while.

He took my chin in his hand and squeezed it hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to do damage. “Now you listen up, slut wife,” his voice was clear and cold, thrilling me to the bone. “Now that the sweet lovey-dovey lines have been said, now that you’re my wife, my chattel, let’s make a few things clear, crystal clear.”

I quaked even more, if that were possible.

“You’re not done paying for your crime, and you won’t be any time soon. I want to know all about you giving that blowjob to the black man. In fact, you’re going to blow a black man in front of me, so I can see exactly what you look like with your pretty pink-white mouth shoved full of a thick black dick. I’m going to beat you hard because you’re still crying out for punishment. And when I want you at my feet, you’ll come to me when I call you, groveling on your belly like you did that night in the dungeon. You’re going to submit, Mrs. Eleanor Rule Tate, because that’s what
you
want most, and that’s what turns me on. I hope that’s what you want for your life, Heiress, because it’s too late to turn back now.”

Oh, his words so bathed me with their appalling message that I was breathing raggedly, gulping air as voraciously as my body
spasmed
in reply to his speech.

“Yes,” I panted, practically hissing. “That’s what I want, exactly what I want.” My body moved for him, feeling feral and catlike. I couldn’t wait for him to grab me and use me hard.

For just an instant, I saw a glint of the old, sexy scoundrel in Garrison’s eyes, which gave me comfort. But it would be a long wedding night of terror and pain before I’d see his scoundrel smile again.