Twice Shy (The Restraint Series) by Jill C Flanagan, Jill Christie

the objection starting in Brendan’s face and made a hand motion to show him she wasn’t finished talking. Stacy had decided how far her forgiveness would go. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Brendan. I want to. But the responsibility will be yours. I’ll give you my phone number and email. I will never live in Montana again. California is home. Text me and give me your schedule every week, informing me of when you are available. You told me you quit the Forestry Service, what do you do now?”
    Brendan told her briefly about his work in the oilfield.
    “I will use the schedule and choose when and where to call you. And you’d better answer. I know you don’t really take orders out of the bedroom. But I will push you. It doesn’t mean you can’t push back. But remember, you can discontinue the relationship at any time. As can I. It’s your second chance, Brendan. There will not be a third. Think of the consequences before you text me your schedule. I don’t hear from you by midnight tomorrow, it will mean you have decided not to pursue this.”
    Stacy stood, signaling him to leave.
    “I’ll text you tomorrow, email, and leave a voicemail. I don’t want a communications mix-up.” He looked at her, happiness in his eyes, his dick still bulging in his pants. “I want this.” The sincerity was almost Hallmark movie-of-the-week in its conviction.
    As she let him out the door, she said, “Oh, and Brendan?”
    He looked up.
    “No masturbating without my permission. Your orgasms are mine.”
    A look of disappointment and then grim satisfaction crossed his face. He nodded, and using that choked voice again, said, “Yes, Miss.”
    Good boy.
    ***
    B rendan walked gingerly down the hall. Feeling exhilarated. Hopeful. Unfortunately every step he took rubbed against his hard-as-nails dick. Even so, he didn’t care whether Cee dressed him up in drag and walked him down Main Street.
    Well, he hoped she wouldn’t do that.
    It amazed him how she got him close to coming just by touching his hand. Once he was out of sight, he fist-pumped, happier than he’d been in ages.
    In the near future, her creamy freckled skin was going to be his to touch. Those luscious generous breasts his to suckle. That perfect round ass his to knead. With permission of course.
    He hadn’t been celibate since Cee left, but he’d only had one relationship which lasted longer than a fling. Everyone he fucked tasted not quite right.
    He was tempted during those house parties to try sexual submission out. But he wanted to save that type of sex for Cee. The thought of giving his control over to anyone else rang false, as did being in a relationship with anyone else.
    He guessed he had that in common with his mom. She had never dated anyone else after his father died in a forest fire. She always said he was the one for her.
    Cee was the one for him.
    He pressed the down button for the elevator, forgoing the stairs, his raging hard-on making longer strides a bit too exciting.
    A voice sounded behind him. “Tommo!”
    Brendan cringed. Being in town meant that you inevitably ran into high-school comrades. Whether you wanted to or not. He looked down at his arousal. Fuck it, who cares what anyone thinks. He wished Cee were witnessing this. Hard-cocked and proud.
    Turning around, he saw his once good friend. “Hi, Bart, what brings you to the Super 8?” Bren knew full well Bart had to be up to no good with a wife left at home.
    Bart looked a bit worse for wear. The muscle built up in high school was more bloated now. Bart wasn’t fat, but he no longer had the impressive build he had had back when he was lineman. The guy wasn’t bald yet, although he had those receding scoops in his hairline.
    “Hey, Tommo, you know the saying. What happens at the Super 8 stays at the Super 8, right? You wouldn’t fail a man-test and go blabbing to Melissa, would you?”
    Crossing an Ellis was not wise. No matter what problems he had with his mom, if he pissed