PE: Free: Locke: Chapter Two

Chapter One

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Chapter Two

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Thomas, West’s first name, and I texted back and forth for two weeks. Though we flirted and made jokes, we didn’t talk about our mutual hobby. I didn’t know how to bring it up, even though I gave Harper shit for not just asking him to play. But she had known him for years, and that was a huge difference.  

We talked about my stories and his work, but only in the vaguest terms. He showed me his pencil and pen drawings, and I shared pictures of the dozens of small watercolors that lined the walls of my bedroom. And though he was often serious and sometimes formal, I found him funny and charming.  

“Where are you today?” I asked one evening. It was late, and we hadn’t chatted during the morning. He had been on a plane for most of the day before. 

“Providence.”

I literally knew nothing about Rhode Island. I wasn’t even sure I could point at it on a map without a couple of guesses. “Exciting. Getting to do anything fun while you’re there?” I was hoping he at least had the night off. He had worked for nine days straight. 

His response was right away. “I’ve been in a police station for ten hours, with half of that time waiting for a judge to sign something. Someone had to hunt him down on a golf course. My afternoon was beyond thrilling.”

“Why were you there all day?” I wanted to know everything about his work, though he didn’t talk about it much. 

“In the case that we’re working on, we ID’d some possible suspects. They were arrested, and, with our help, they interrogated them. It just took some time to get the ball rolling.”

“What’s your job title exactly?” I wasn’t sure if he would even tell me. 

“I’m a doctor of behavioral psychology. I work as a profiler in the NCAVC branch, and I am a Special Agent.”

NCAVC. Instead of asking what it meant, I looked it up. National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crimes. Biting my lip, I tried to think of what to ask next. Curiosity continued to eat at me. Just talking to him was giving me story ideas.  

“Wow, that sounds intense. What type of violent crime?” I was pushing my luck. I wasn’t sure if even Harper knew this much. But she probably wasn’t interested, either. All she wanted from him was a good spanking. 

“How do you think I know you’re not a serial killer, Valentine?”

“Ah,” I replied, wondering if he meant he investigated literal serial killers or murderers in general. But I realized he wouldn’t answer that. “So, very intense.”

Instantly, the three dots popped up. “Mmm, yeah. A boring day is usually a good one.”

“I can’t imagine having a bad day at your office,” I commented, biting my lip again as I laid back in bed in my pajamas with my phone. I was gnawing at it as my anxiety built. 

“Well, sometimes, when we do, people die. So, I try not to have them if I can help it.” 

“I’m sorry,” I said right away. I had walked too far on the thin ice, and I could practically hear it cracking under my feet in the text.  

“No, I’m sorry. You were making normal polite conversation, and I made it unnecessarily bleak. I apologize. I was going to ask you something, but I’m not sure you’ll be amiable to it now.”  

“No, go ahead. It’s fine,” I sent back with a smile emoji. 

“So, I should be coming to Dallas this weekend.” That was two days away. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in playing Saturday night?”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes. I’d love to.”

“Great. So, if you could, would you send a checklist of yours? I’ll send mine. So we both know what to expect. I want to make sure it goes well for both of us.”

I realized then I didn’t have one for him. It had been far too long since I had played with someone else, and I didn’t actually foresee it happening, even if I enjoyed chatting. 

“I don’t suppose you have a link to the same list you filled out? It’ll be easier to compare notes that way,” I asked in a lame attempt to make it seem as if I wasn’t unprepared. I wanted this to happen, and I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t gotten it prepped. A moment later, a blue hyperlink popped up in a message. “Oh, perfect. Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome. I’ve already sent you mine in an email if you’d like to look, but I need to get back to work now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yup. I’ll fill this out, and I’ll read yours. Have a good day,” I replied, hoping he understood the meaning behind it.  

“I always sincerely try to. Have a pleasant evening, Valentine.”

When he used my full name, it made my stomach tighten. I decided I needed a drink before I went through his checklist. A strong one. I put on my silky blue robe and pulled my hair up into a ponytail before padding out to the kitchen. Morgan and Ryan were in there, making dinner together. He was standing behind her, his hands on her hips as he pressed himself to her ass as close as possible. She was giggling as he kissed her neck. 

Rushing by them, I tried to ignore their scene. I wasn’t in the mood for it. Let them have their romance. I was going to get kinky. 

“Hey, Tine. Want some?” She pointed at the pot of noodles with a wooden spoon.

Not looking at her, I began to search through the cabinets. “No, thanks.” 

In a soft, worried tone, she inquired, “Are you okay?”

Shaking my head, I went to the next cupboard before I responded, “Yeah. Why?” I knew I had some liquor I could mix with the juice I kept in the fridge. 

“You’re acting kind of…”

“Weird,” Ryan mumbled under his breath. She elbowed him hard in the gut. “I didn’t say she was,” he defended himself. “You seem distressed, I mean.” 

“I’m just looking for my vodka.”

“Okay.” She laughed nervously. “Um… Why do you need it?”

Finally, I stopped and gazed at them. She wanted an answer, and I knew I had to give her one. “Uh, I have a date Saturday,” I blurted out. That was as good as any reason to be searching for alcohol. It was a lie. It really wasn’t. I was about to have wild sex, but I couldn’t tell them that. My roommate didn’t know about my lifestyle, and I would never bring it up, especially in front of Ryan.  

“Oh!” Morgan said in excitement, passing the spoon to him. “Anyone I’ve met?” She started to help me look for the bottle. My answer made my quest somehow more normal. 

“No,” I laughed. She knew all of my very few friends. 

“How did you meet?”

“Harper. We’ve been talking online for a couple of weeks now.”

Giggling, she was genuinely happy for me. “I didn’t even know you were chatting with someone!” Uninterested in our gossip, Ryan gave the utensil back and muttered that he was going to run to the restroom. Ignoring him, she put it on the edge of the big pot to continue helping me. She moved several cans of tomatoes onto the counter. “What’s his name?”  

I considered telling her what it actually was, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to share that information with her yet. So, I used his pseudonym from his private profile. “West- Weston.” It was his middle name, at least.

Finally, I found the big glass bottle of cheap vodka. It had a fine layer of dust on it, especially around the shoulders. The last time I had any was months before, but I was more of a social drinker. 

She put the tins away again. “What does he do?”

Quickly, I washed it. “He works for the FBI.”

“Ooo, a cop!”

I laughed at her enthusiasm, pouring two shots into the tumbler before putting it in the freezer for later. “A doctor, actually.” I had a feeling I wasn’t done with it yet. “A doctor cop, even. He’s a psychologist.”

“Oh, double sexy. I can see why you need a drink now.” She nodded her head, tossing her gorgeous hair over her shoulder. Chuckling, I added the fruit punch. “What are you going to do on your date?”

“I don’t know. He just asked. He had to go back to work.”  

Picking up her spoon, she pursed her lips as she thought about her next question. “Hmm. Doctor. Weston. What’s his last name?”

“Locke.” It was actually Key, but it made sense to hide it for the sake of his job. I understood. That was why I used Heart for all my naughty titles.

She tapped the tool on the rim of the pan. “Dr. Locke. Hm… Doctor and Mrs. Locke,” she sounded it out, thinking about it aloud.  

“No,” I snorted. 

She looked offended by my response. “Why not!?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “I’m already nervous. Stop it.”

“Yeah. Okay, sorry,” she giggled. “So, is he a cop doctor or doctor cop?”

Stopping, I peered at her in confusion. “What’s the difference?”

“Is he a doctor for the cops or-”

“Oh! He’s a doctor who’s an agent. A profiler. He’s not a therapist or whatever.”

Morgan tossed her hair again, her lips curving into a smile. “What does he look like?”

Avoiding her eyes, I got a straw to stir my drink. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen any pictures.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Why not?”

“Because looks don’t matter!” I couldn’t tell her I had only seen photos of his sexy body, and I didn’t care what his face looked like. I just wanted to lick his abs. 

“Mmm,” she hummed. Ryan came into the kitchen, going to his spot behind her as she went to stir their dinner again. “Well, tell me how it goes.”

“I will,” I said too brightly, taking a big gulp of my drink. Ryan’s eyes moved over me once, checking out my robe and bare legs, before his attention turned back to her.

When I returned to my room, I opened up my email to find one from Thomas. I swallowed heavily as my cheeks flushed. 

The list was not the biggest I had ever seen, but it was comprehensive. Almost all of our answers lined up, but he was more experienced. I wanted to try everything he liked or loved. And he was skilled in everything I enjoyed, too. Most of our hard limits were the same. We were both voyeurs and exhibitionists into giving and receiving pain and pleasure. I was a switch, and he was a Dom. We both loved spanking, belts, hair pulling, riding crops, and just about every sexual thing you could do. 

I drank the whole glass down in one big slurp after I finished reading. Before I started mine, I got another. 

“You must like him,” Morgan teased when I returned for the second. She was sprinkling cheese into the now drained pasta with some sort of white sauce covering it. 

Nervously, I laughed, “Yeah.”

“That’s nice! You need someone! Maybe we could go on a double date.”

I scoffed. I didn’t mean to. It just came out. Pretending to be normal for two hours with my crush and my hopefully new fuck buddy sounded like torture. Clearing my throat, I shook my head. “No. Like I said- it’s the first date. Don’t make me nervous.” 

“You have to think positive! You’re a brilliant woman, and he’d be lucky to have you. You’re super cool.”

“I agree,” I smirked. “Actually, that’s why I don’t want to go on a double date. I’m not that much of a dork,” I quipped. Snorting, Ryan looked away from me. She swatted at him, but he dodged out of the way with a chuckle as he took a sip of his beer. 

She pouted. “They’re fun!” 

“No, they’re not,” I replied once I finished making my second drink. I didn’t want to sleep with her, so I didn’t have to agree with her.  

It wasn’t a hard thing to fill out, just tedious. There were even spots for notes. I wasn’t comfortable enough to make all the dirty jokes I wanted to in them. Yet. The one I sent to Harper years before had been comedy gold.  

Then there was the spot for watersports. I made a little face. But he needed to know. “So, sometimes, if I’m really excited, I squirt. I try not to because it’s a mess. I just want to warn you. Once it starts, it’s hard to stop. It’s embarrassing. Sorry.” 

It seemed weird I had nothing else to add, but that was all. My skin was a violent shade of red the entire time I wrote it. 

When I woke up, there was a message waiting for me. “Thank you for sending me your list so quickly. You didn’t have to rush.” 

“It was easy to fill out.”

“Do you have any questions about mine?”

“Not really. It seems pretty straightforward. Harper was right when she said we were compatible. You?”

“Yes.” There was a slight pause. “Why would you be embarrassed about something you do involuntarily?” 

Just thinking about what I did in the past made my face turn neon pink, even though I was alone. “I don’t think you understand the mess I’m talking about.”

“Mmm, I bet I can imagine it. Does it not feel good?”

Laughing to myself, I laid on my side. “It feels amazing… in the moment, then horrendous after. Will it bother you?”

“Not in the least. But can I tell you how happy I am you’re not into blood, knives, or fire?”

I laughed again as I looked down at the screen. “I’m just glad you don’t want to spit on me while choking me.”

“Yeah, I feel asphyxiation ruins the experience.”

It was tough not to giggle. I was smiling like an idiot. “There wasn’t a spot for necrophilia. But, just in case, hard limit all the way around.” 

“lol, Same.”

“So, still at the police station?” I hoped his night had gone well.  

“Actually, I’m on a plane back to Texas. First, a pit-stop in Houston, then I’ll be flying in on Saturday morning.” 

“Oh. That’s a shorter flight, at least. I know you’re tired.”

“I am, but I’ll get tomorrow evening off to rest. So…” There was another slight pause. “I’m going to be staying at a hotel in downtown Dallas. Would you like to meet me there? Around six?”

Too eager, I replied instantly. “Sure.”

“I’d like to start as soon as you arrive. There will be no speaking until I tell you and no eye contact. I use the standard red/yellow safewords. Stop, slow down. Does this work, or would you prefer to talk before?”

It was exhilarating to think about meeting up with this almost complete stranger for sex. It was one thing on our lists that lined up. I wasn’t exactly experienced with the art of picking up, well, anyone, but I liked the idea of it. The very concept turned me on. It was the reason I hadn’t asked to see a picture of his face yet. Not knowing made it so much more intense.  

“That works for me,” I answered. “Should I wear anything or style my hair a certain way?” I was hungry for his instructions. 

“No. It’s completely up to you how you dress. I’m looking forward to seeing what you choose, Valentine.”

A small thrill ran up my spine. 

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Thanks for reading! 💛

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Chapter One