50 Shades of Drake 5 and 6

Chapter Sixty-Six

    Aubrey stared at Destiny for a moment longer, then nodded. "Yes. I do. Of course I do."

    "Then would you please sit on the bed, Sir?"

    A muscle in his jaw twitched. He raised his eyes and looked at the bed for a moment before returning his gaze to her.

    "Would you please sit on the bed and trust that I know how to make you feel better?"

    "We're deviating from the instructions that I originally gave you."

    "Is that always a bad thing?" she asked. While the question sounded rhetorical in nature, she wanted him to think about that question for a minute. Not everything in life had to be planned and all rules weren't meant to be followed. The Dominant/submissive lifestyle might teach differently, but there were always exceptions to the rule.

    But he was so dead-set on not failing as her Dominant, that he struggled with the concept of deviating from a list of specific tasks that he'd given her.

    "After you feel better, we can pick back up where we left off?" she suggested.

    "All right," he said hesitantly, moving over to the bed.

    "Permission to stand, Sir?"

    "Granted," he said as he lowered onto the bed.

    She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "Can I...?"

    He looked beyond her at the aisles of toys in the shelves behind her. "Have at it," he said, sounding tired.

    Tucking strands of hair behind one ear, she went down the first aisle, rummaging through some of the boxes and trays of perfectly sorted items. Once she found what she was looking for, she gripped it in her hands and hid her hands behind her back. Then she emerged from the aisle and made a slow approach to Aubrey.

    He watched her warily. "You do remember the conversation we had about you staying away from my ass, correct?"

    She laughed and climbed into the bed, positioning herself behind him. "I remember the conversation, yes Sir."

    "I wasn't joking with you." He sounded nervous, which threatened to send her into a fit of giggles.

    Trying her best to keep a straight face, she said, "I know, Sir."

    "What do you have in your hands?"

    "Do you trust me?" she asked him again.

    "I don't know anymore," he muttered.

    She laughed and raised her arms over his head. "I wouldn't do anything to displease you, Master," she assured him. "Especially now. I can see how tense you are, how stressed out you are. All I want to do is alleviate some of that." As she spoke, she secured a dark maroon blindfold over his eyes, and tied it at the back of his head. "A wise man once taught me about sensory deprivation, and taught me how it could be used to increase the sensation of pleasure elsewhere."

    "A wise man, huh?" he asked, starting to relax.

    She lowered her head and kissed his bare shoulder. "A very wise man." Sitting back on her heels, she ran her hands across his shoulders and down his back, then back up his back to rest on his shoulders once again. Taking great care in not using too much pressure, she gently kneaded the muscles of his shoulders and back.

    "Mmm," he murmured, dropping his head down.

    "Your mood changed after the phone calls you returned."

    "I'm not going to burden you with that bullshit, Destiny."

    "But...I want to know," she protested.

    "Destiny."

    She frowned, but continued to massage his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Sir," she apologized. "Would you please tell me? I might be able to help."

    He sighed deeply and a ran a hand over his eyes. "We were supposed to expand the school arts program to more cities in the U.S., but Oliver said that we still don't have enough funding."

    "But...your contacts from the industry were all gung-ho to donate."

    "A few of them backed out due to financial issues."

    "So we find other ones."

    "Easier said than done."

    "Then...use your own money."

    He turned his head and arched a look at her.

    Her eyes widened. "Use your own money, let people see how good the programs are, and then they'll join in. They won't want to lose them once they're established."

    "That's also easier said than done," he grumbled.

    "All right, well...we'll think of something," she said, lowering her hands and massaging his shoulder blades.

    "If I'm going to come up with anything, it has to be fast."

    "We could throw a charity event," she suggested.

    He seemed to weigh the option. "That's not a bad idea."

    "Or..."

    "Or...?"

    "Okay I don't know how you're going to take this idea, but just...hear me out, okay?"

    He narrowed his eyes. "Whenever you have an idea that comes with a disclaimer, I worry."

    She laughed. "Well...you had that idea of releasing new music. And your fans are still waiting to hear new music from you. They're practically begging for it, so sales would probably be through the roof. A portion of the proceeds, or all of the proceeds, could go towards the arts and music programs."

    "Hmm."

    "One of the companies that you're partnered with might even consider sponsoring a program like that. There are a ton of ideas out there. It's just a matter of which one you'd feel most comfortable with."

    A small smile curved his lips. "Thank you."

    "I could come up with more ideas."

    "That shouldn't be your focus. Your focus should be your meeting with the Times tomorrow."

    She gasped. "I could write an article about it."

    "Because that worked out so well for us last time?" he asked tiredly, hinting at the Palmer debacle.

    Feeling a stab of guilt, she said, "That wasn't my fault."

    The tired look in his eyes cleared. "I wasn't laying blame on you for that. But...maybe an article isn't the best way to go."

    Dejected, she dropped her hands into her lap.

    "You've come up with great ideas and you've given me some things to think about," he said.

    "This arts program is my baby as much as it is yours," she told him. "I feel just as passionately about it as you do. It's an amazing thing you're doing, and it's...it's one of the things that first made me fall in love with you, seeing how important the program was to you."

    He twisted around and slid an arm around her waist. "All right, all right. We'll brainstorm. Just...not right now. Okay?"

    She nodded and gestured for him to turn back around. When he did, she started to massage his back again. "Maybe some of your athlete friends could help," she murmured, more to herself than to him. "They're always donating to sports programs or starting them. Arts programs are close to that, right?"

    Aubrey laughed. "Destiny."

    "I'm sorry!" she cried out. "When my brain starts going, it's hard to stop it."

    He shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

    "Based on previous activities, fuck me senseless."

    "Accurate," he said softly.