Kept--A Taryll Jackson Solo Erotica

In today's modern fast-paced world, filled with headstrong movers and shakers, it is a rarity to find people living by more "traditional" standards that were once the norm of...perhaps our grandparents. While my household wasn't really what would be defined as "traditional" I did like the "ideal" of a man being the breadwinner and his woman being the proverbial housewife. With that idea in mind I wondered what would happen if a woman did tire of the monotony of this kind of existence,  and tried to buck what was her--and her man's--norm.

"Kept"

A Taryll Jackson Erotic Short Story By:

MJsLoveSlave

Seaside Springs, California

The Beiderhoff

Spring, 2015

In the late afternoon, the sun, once a brilliant, glaring ball of yellow, giving all that had fallen in its a path a taste of the broiling summer still to come in the following months, slowly beginning to make its descent towards the westward horizon, shadows were taking the place where light had once been unavoidable.

In the waning rays, a majestic skyscraper, hugging the coast where white sand meshed with the crystal blue waters of the Pacific, a daunting structure of glass and concrete, rose from same horizon the sun was slowly sinking behind, dwarfing all other buildings of this wealthy enclave laying just south of Los Angeles.

An engulfing testament to modern design,its facade, marked by dozens on balconies facing beachward, stood uninterrupted, save for one.

Far above the coast, in the center of the thirty-eighth floor, a lone man occupied a personal veranda.

And while morning had long since come and gone, only to return again in a scant few hours, the man appeared to be just starting his day, whilst others were at the end of theirs.

His tall, stout, but by no means overweight, figure was draped in a black watch plaid satin robe, left hanging open, to reveal the sparse hair adorning his chest, which thinned considerably, before clustering into a dark cluster of curls, peeking from the top of the low-slung, forest green briefs clinging to his wide, powerful thighs, the hair dappling his flesh.

Flesh that had once been a God-given gold, as provided by intertwined Latin and African-American bloodlines, but after repeated exposure to the sun be it from laying out on the sand, not so far away, or being further from land on the yacht he'd gifted himself on his last birthday, the gold had deepened, darkened and transformed into a rich bronze.

A soft, cool breeze, briny and oceanic blew, scattering the loose waves already carelessly tousled, and streaked in shades of honey, wheat and goldenrod, across a high-forehead, springing from the blackish natural roots which had been cropped and tapered down, the curls on his crown left longer, lengthening a handsome face, cut, chiseled and hinting faintly at the androgynous, that with the addition of several extra pounds, had filled out attractively.

Tossing his head, to clear a few pesky strands from his eyes, the man turned, leaving the balcony and slipping back into his master suite soundlessly.

Though there was no drop of French blood to be found in his veins, the room had been decorated in the grandiose style, lifted and modeled directly from Versailles.

Fine, heavy and handcrafted furniture filled the huge suite, along with antique painting depicting nude figures and nymphs flicking in colorful landscapes, the space seemed more a museum display than a livable habitat.

A pompous, dramatic room it was, in shades of elegant ivory with gold accents, everythingreeking staunchly of Louis XIV's style...befitting a man living a kingly existence.

And where there was a king, a queen could not be too far behind, as evidenced by the glaringly feminine details scattered about.

The all-pink ensemble of a flowy silk crepe minidress, with tiny leather flats, a headband featuring a whimsically looped bow and the small, quilted Chanel handbag lined beside it, atop the dark cream satin bedding. A black velvet box sat open, revealing a parure of a pair of genuine blush pink pearl studs and a coordinating tennis bracelet.

A few feet away, was a triple mirrored vanity, awaiting its use, cosmetics, all in shades of that girly, whimsical color set out, flanked by a dozen different, crystal bottles of perfume.

Pausing a moment, the man surveyed the items with a hypercritical eye, before turning on the heels of his bare feet and heading for the double doors.

Passing through them, he turned, making a beeline to the swinging door of the kitchen in rear of the sprawling, cavernous apartment.

Bumping the door carelessly with a hip, he entered and was greeted by a delightful sight.

Swathed in a robe that matched his own, a young woman stood, her back to him, sweetening a cup of coffee at the counter in the far corner.

From behind, she was frankly slim and petite, her long, gleaming raven black tresses coiled around huge curlers, more for volume than putting a wave to it.

He watched as small hands, so pristinely porcelain white, as she was purely Irish for at leas ten generations back, tipped with the modified almond-shaped nail known as “coffin”, painted a pale pink, twirled a spoon, tinkling lightly against the china mug.

On each hand, the nail of the ring finger had been painted with silver glitter, which was picked up by the dainty, white gold wire ring, in the shape of a heart on her right hand.

The ring never came off; it was a constant reminder of her to whom she belonged.

Stealthily, he sidled up behind her, watching intently as she brought the mug to her lips, having a sip.

The cup hovered as she audibly gulped, before speaking, her voice hardly past a whisper,

“I...I know you're here, Taryll...”

A large, warm hand was placed on the nape of her neck just below the lowest curler, pinching ever so gently at the flesh between her visible vertebrae.

“And what gave me away, Sienna?”

He wondered in a voice much more higher-pitched and softer than his towering stature would have suggested.

The mug was set aside.

“Your cologne--” She declared matter-of-factly, staggering, as the grip on her neck tightened and she was pulled back, allowing Taryll to see her face.

The thin, colorless, fine-boned face, framed by the heavy fringe falling just shy of her eyes.

Eyes a queer, jarring shade of turquoise, widened in surprise, up at the dark swarthy face, the hazel-flecked amber eyes of her lover peering back boldly at her.

The tiny snub nose and thin, peachy lips, stretching out into a flat line of apprehension, as did so often when their eyes met for an extended period.

Maintaining the gaze, Taryll bent, slowly, his mouth touching hers, kissing her gingerly, her eyes fluttering shut from the sensation of his damp, tender lips, tasting sweetly of peppermint toothpaste.

“Sienna...” His voice lowered by an octave as he spoke into her parted lips,

“...we have reservations for Neptune's at seven-thirty. I want you to go start painting in...”

“Any...any particular way?” She asked, eyes darting first upwards at him, then down to her painted toenail.

“I pulled a pink outfit for you...” She was nudged towards the door, nearly spilling her java.

“Keep it in that vein.”

As Sienna scurried away, Taryll, pulled a mug down from the cupboard and began filling it.

Bringing it to his lips for a sip of undiluted Colombian bean, a single word was printed on the white ceramic:

Master.

Forty-five minutes later, Sienna, seated on a low tufted ottoman in front of her vanity, was putting the last and finishing touches on her face, in the form of a pair of fanned, lush false eyelashes. Carefully, she had dutifully applied her cosmetics, as once upon a time, Sienna had been a freelance makeup artist.

But that was before Taryll had come into her life.

Now her pale face had been enlivened and defined in rosy shades, all from high-end brands as hand selected by Taryll himself, for her.

Sienna would have preferred to warm her pallid complexion with a touch of bronzer, but Taryll disliked it, saying it made no sense to fake bake herself.

And everything did have to pass his exacting specifications.

Out of habit, Sienna picked up the large bottle of mist, used to set her makeup in place and banishing the need for “touch-ups” throughout the night and started to spray herself, but stopped in just the nick of time.

There was one final step, before a single drop came flying out.

Looking towards the door, left slightly ajar, leading into the deep walk-in closet, she called.

“Taryll? Taryll Adren? Taryll?”

There were several, tense seconds of silence, before the door opened, Taryll sauntering out fully dressed, quite casually in all black, from his nylon jacket, to his tee and form-fitting jeans.

The only interruptions were the chain draped across his beefy left hip, and his sneakers, brilliant white, printed with musical notes.

Directly he went to her, fingertips on her chin to examine her face. He always did have to give his approval to her appearance. It was his way.

Her face,at first, serene on inspection, as Sienna had grown used to this exercise, furrowed at the brow when he declared,

“You need a darker lip liner. What did you put on?”

“MAC, Edge to Edge...” She held up the pencil, a midtone, dirty blue pink, which was promptly snapped in half by meaty hands and flung across the room.

Sienna remained calm as Taryll opened a drawer on the vanity, filled with more than a hundred liners in all hues, rifling through it. He often broke, threw and destroyed cosmetics he didn't like...only to replace them at a later date.

Sienna watched as he came up with a hand of pencils, looking over each, eventually deciding on the “one”.

“MAC, Soar.”

Instantly, he was lining the rims of her lips in the darker pinkish-brown, a very subtle change from the previous liner, but did offer the illusion of a poutier appearance to her mouth.

“There, perfect.” His lips pressed her forehead.

“I'm gonna go gas up the 'Vette...I'll be back at exactly seven for you, understand?”

Wordlessly Sienna bobbed her head.

“Set your makeup.” He advised tapping the tip of her nose with a fingertip. “I'll see you in twenty. You knew where to be. I love you.”

As he ambled away, the curled head lowered, with Sienna whispering,

“I love you...too...”

A short while later, as commanded, Sienna stood beyond the chrome and glass revolving door of The Biederhoff, on the well-lit sidewalk, shifting from one leg to the next, patiently awaiting Taryll's return.

Swinging the little status symbol, suspended by a silvery chain on her shoulder, Sienna dropped a hand into her quilted bag, fetching her phone, its novelty case fashioned to resemble multicolored eyeshadow palette—sponge applicator included—to check the time.

With a swipe, the screen illuminated, showing a close-up of Taryll's face smiling broadly, the time displayed as six fifty-eight beneath his chin.

In the many months she'd known Taryll, never once had he ever been late for any date, appointment or meeting.

And tonight was of no exception.

As the phone was replaced, a silver bullet of a hard-top convertible Corvette, boasting an iridescent finish and sparkling twenty-six inch rims separated from the evening traffic and pulled alongside the curb.

She was quite familiar with ostentatious the hot rod; it was her lover's pride and joy—aside from herself.

Sienna remained motionless, watching in the dusk, as the driver's door popped open, Taryll unfolding, clutching something to barrel chest.

A fond smile curled her lips as she realized what the parcel was: a dozen lilies of the valley, her favorite flower, arranged in a bouquet, tied with a gauzy white bow.

Rarely did Taryll ever take Sienna out, without giving her some trinket of his affections: blooms, a box of imported chocolate, cards filled with tender, sweet nothings. On holidays, her birthday or their anniversary, he was more extravagant, with jewels, and once, a trip to Rome.

But he did make an effort to show he cared and that her presence in his life was appreciated.

Tonight was merely an outing to dinner, so simple lilies it was, though the gesture was revered in the same manner.

Staring at her, devouring her with his very amber orbs, by-standers would have reckoned Taryll hadn't seen Sienna in a good decade, rather than a little past a quarter of an hour.

He loomed over her, like a mighty sequoia looms over a squirrel, his chest visibly heaving as he gazed upon this scant creature, dipped in pink and forever wearing the representation of his heart on her finger.

The scent of his cologne, Acqua di Gio, mirrored the salty, bittersweet scent of the ocean, only yards from them, lightened by the intermingling of citrus.

It was a bright, refreshing, clean scent, one that made Sienna's pulse spike and her heart race.

The flowers were bestowed upon her, her head ducking shyly as Taryll's lips found hers, pressing long enough to cloud her vision.

His heavy arm was around her shoulders, hugging her to his frame possessively, whisking her towards the Corvette.

The passenger side door was opened for her, and quickly she was nestled into the black leather interior, Taryll briskly rounding the front of the car and slipping in beside her, leaning to peck at her soft cheek. Eyes washing over her again, as though he couldn't fathom the fact she was with him, in his company that evening.

The key in the ignition turned, the engine purring to life and the radio picked up, continuing the song Taryll had been listening to as he'd sped to claim her,

“...why don't you show me...the little bit of spine...you've been saving for his mattress...love...”

Merging back into traffic with a lead foot, the darkening road became a blur, Taryll's hand fell onto Sienna's thigh, squeezing just enough to bridge the gap between pleasure and pain.

“..if they knew how misery loved me...”

“Are you excited for tonight?” Taryll mashed her thigh harder, causing her to wince.

“Y-y-y... ow!...yes!” Sienna's hand was on his thick wrist, not so much to pull his hand away, but alert him to loosen his grip.

She liked his touch; though Taryll often lost track of his own capability.

“What are you looking forward to: dinner...or dessert?”

Taryll took his eyes off the road to gauge her reaction so long they should have had a collision, as he took to the packed expressway.

Sienna's head stayed down, as she tried to avoid the penetrating gaze.

Her silence was enough for him.

Pressing her flesh until it shone red, Taryll's head was flung back and he cackled shrilly.

Pushed deep into her seat by pure G-force, as her lover let the hammer drop, far exceeding the posted speed limits, he slapped her thigh, commenting with amusement,

“Then I suggest you eat plenty tonight... you'll need your strength!”

An Hour Later

“...the lady will have the Ahi Tuna Nicoise and I'll have the Steak Oscar, medium-rare, please...”

“Very well, Sir, excellent choice...”

“And could you also refresh my drink? I had a Dirty Martini, thank you.”

“Right away, Sir...”

Sienna never knew how Taryll managed it, but no matter how packed Cafe Neptune was--and as one of the premiere seafood restaurants on the West Coast, the place generally had a line out the door and around the corner, and that was after the eighteen-month wait to even get a reservation—they dined in whenever the mood struck, and, without fail, were seated at the same table time and again.

In the dusky, dim far corner, away from the entrance, and seemingly separated from all the other diners, the two were in something of a world unto themselves, a length of polished mahogany between them with low, white candles flickering and burning, the room itself darkened by the deeply stained wood-paneling.

Staring down into her stemless wine glass, still half filled with Sparkling White Peach Sangria, that fond smile was on her lips again, her head down to avoid it being seen by Taryll.

She knew their frequent visits to Cafe Neptune, at least five times or more in any given month, was more for her benefit than his as Sienna knew Taryll wasn't particularly fond of eating seafood; she loved it while he all but loathed it.

And while she had sampled every dish available on the comprehensive menu, Taryll stuck with an iron clad ferocity to two dishes: an appetizer of Roasted Shrimp Cocktail,setting in the center of the table, as it was large enough to feed the both of them, practically drowning in a mix of spicy horseradish and sriracha sauce, the only way he would tolerate the plump crustaceans, and his Steak Oscar.

He had to balance the chunks of broiled lobster and crab bernaise was by having it piled atop a two-inch thick, full-pound ribeye, that would moo in agony as he sliced through it, with some asparagus for greenery.

Out of her peripheral vision, Sienna saw Taryll spearing one of the dozen or so shrimp left on the platter with fork with his left hand, lighting dancing off the face of his white gold Bulgari time piece, peeking from beneath the sleeve of his jacket, as his right was laid on the table top, palm down, extended towards her.

Putting her hand out, Sienna intertwined her fingers with his.

And was pulled forward slightly as Taryll lifted her hand, his lips, a trifle sticky from the sauce, gliding across her knuckles, his eyes focused on her like a spotlight.

“You're very alluring tonight, Sienna...” He commented into the top of her hand.

“...all that pink, you look like a little china doll to me...”

“Thank you, Taryll...” She mumbled, bringing her glass to her lips, for an iced, yet warming sipping of the spirits, in an effort to calm her nerves.

Being so close to him, holding his attention this way, always made her uneasy.

Taryll seemed to cast this spell over her, that weakened her and drew her breath from her lungs.

“Tell me again....” He was examining the ring on her finger. “...how many years separate us, My Princess?”

“Thir....” Her throat, suddenly dry, required another sip of wine, “Thirteen.”

His arched brows rose and fell against his forehead.

“Right...” Those hazel eyes glinted in the candlelight devilishly. “You're twenty-seven and I'll be forty in August...”

He trailed off, interrupted as the waiter returned, a tray bearing their steaming plates and Taryll's drink balanced on his palm.

Taryll held his tongue long enough for the dishes to be delivered, and the waiter to depart to continue with his thought.

He released her hand, picking up his utensils and starting to cut into his steak.

“And we've been together since you were twenty-one, correct?”

A hunk of meat it's hot pink center framed by its seared outside was poised in the air.

Drizzling Dijon vinaigrette over her salad, Sienna bobbed her head, concurring.

“I still remember the day we met, like it was yesterday...”

His fingertips cradled her chin, bringing her head up, and she was forced to look upon his handsome face and those unavoidable eyes.

Absently, he twirled the skewer in his martini, containing two green olives and a pearl onion, reminiscing, his eyes starting to glow inhumanly.

“...I was the keynote speaker at a convention to help bring musical arts back into schools...”

Sienna, chewing thoughtfully on romaine, watched his face transform, softening, eyes dancing, teeth showing.

“...and at the same hotel you were doing the makeup of a bunch of little screaming brats for some baby beauty pageant right across the hall. As I was leaving, you came running chasing some child and bumped into me...”

Another hunk of meat went into Taryll's mouth.

“You mumbled some sort of an apology, but...I... I was in love the minute I saw you, Sienna. So tired, so frazzled, so worn out. So many people pulling at you and hollering for you to tend to their babies...when you were still practically a baby yourself...”

Reaching across the table he pinched at her cheek.

“You were frantic, so out of control...you needed help. Someone to step in and take charge... the stereotypical damsel in distress in need of rescuing by your knight in shining armor...”

Now he was chewing on one of the olives.

“Everything about you appealed to me. Not only how you looked, but how you acted, the way you behaved around me. So quiet, so shy, so timid. No one had ever touched you before me...”

Sienna shifted in her seat, warming all over as Taryll patted her cheek, returning his attention to his food, hesitantly eating a few lumps of lobster.

“You were pure...unspoiled...you gave yourself to me...allowed me to show you...show you what it was like...to be loved by a real man...”

He was audibly gulping the martini.

“I've always wanted to be with you, Sienna. Look after you, take care of you, be your strength when you need it. And you give me everything I look for in a woman....a lady....”

Fingers intertwined once more and he was kissing at her hand and wrist, eyeing her ravenously.

“Softness, sweetness, gentleness. The support a man needs from his woman... his lady...My woman....My lady...”

An entire asparagus spear was shoved into his mouth, with him smacking loudly.

“Look at me, Sienna...look at me....” He urged, and after a couple of starts, she did peer up into his face.

The serene face, the lips slightly parted, the brows up, all displaying his admiration for her so conspicuously, so vividly.

All the love she felt for him was reflected right back to her.

“Don't you like the way we are? Don't I treat you well?”

It was Sienna's turn to raise her brows, in curiosity.

“Of course, Taryll! Why--”

And that quickly, Taryll's expression...switched.

His smooth forehead was rapidly collapsing into peaks and valleys of wrinkles, while his eyes...

Sienna's heart was aching as she accepted his gaze, met it, unable to turn her head to try to look away, to avoid him.

His eyes, growing huger and huger were intense, glazed over and glassy.

Was it utter disbelief in his eyes? And if it were...exactly what was it he was in disbelief about?

His lips were still parted, but as the rest of his face lost the air of adoration and was merely agape, the white of his two front teeth showing as the lips curled back into a threatening sneer.

“Don't I provide for you? Give you all the nice things you want and deserve? Treat you like the Princess you are?”

It was a rare event for Sienna to see Taryll upset; he was usually level-headed and calm, even if he were a bit sharp at times.

And in such unfamiliar and uncharted territory, she struggled to both keep a grip on her wits and glean the root of this shift in demeanor.

“Yes, you're a wonderful provider, Taryll, I want for nothing...” She put her hand out to touch his shoulder and was startled when he jerked it away, rebuffing her. “...you've always been good to me....” Her blue eyes were huge, swelled, and shone with hurt not unlike what she saw in his hazel ones.

“Taryll...”She searched his face to try to find any sort of hint, clue...anything.

“What is it? What's wrong? What have I done?”

Crimson.

He was turning crimson, the color starting at his hairline and darkening his entire face with a stormy rush of red.

“I believe you know precisely what the problem is, Sienna...”

His voice was colder than an arctic blast and goosebumps sprang up all over her dermis at the sound.

“I'm....I'm sure I don't....” She assured him, throat tightening with trepidation.

The room instantly became a teeny, tiny box, the walls closing in and the floor tilting beneath her feet when he replied, voice reeking with the stench of hatred,

“Where were you last Saturday night?”

Her tongue, drying of all moisture, turned into a leathered, leaden spike in her mouth, too heavy to lift, to form speech, to communicate.

POP!

Taryll, right arm over his head, snapped his fingers, and pointed to his empty glass, signaling for yet another refill.

If he kept that up, vodka, sweet vermouth and olive brine would soon replace the blood plusing through his veins and rushing to his face.

“Now, Sienna...” Taryll began, a waiter materializing at his side, placing a fresh Dirty Martini down and whisking away the used receptacle. “...if I go by what you told me, you spent your Saturday first going to the salon, and then meeting your mother out in Corona for a late lunch...”

Sitting back, Taryll's hands wove together beneath his clefted chin, mouth set in a rigid line, brows up with slight inquiry, his eyes fixed on her, knowingly.

“...I got the alert via text as I always do, when something over a certain amount is charged to my credit card. You did go to the salon. Had a mani, pedi, got your hair blown out, and an oxygen facial. You do it every two weeks...”

While her mouth was dry, a nervous, cold sweat began leaking down Sienna's back.

All she could do was stare at the angry visage before her.

“Knowing you were taking your mother to lunch, I kept waiting for another alert, because I know your mother has a taste gourmet food, and those sort of meals don't come cheaply...”

His head cocked to the side, his chest expanding as he inhaled deeply.

“By the time four o'clock rolled around, I was worried, because no meal is supposed to last that damn long... I tried your phone first, and didn't get an answer...so I called Miss Siobhan, asking about you...”

The bridge of his nose crinkled, as one hand lifted his drink, which disappeared in one mighty gulp with a flinging back of his head.

POP!

Another drink was hailed, with him continuing, dryly,

“I....I spoke to Miss Siobhan...asked to speak to you, Sienna...and she said the funniest damn thing I ever heard in my life--”

Wild, demented, ear-splitting laughter tumbled from Taryll's mouth long enough to generate a few stares, before he collected himself, remembering they were in a public place.

Across the table, blackened tears were staining Sienna's cheeks as she began to weep wordlessly and helplessly, saltwater mixing with her mascara.

Chuckling, with abject craziness in his eyes as they widened and shook in his skull, Taryll snorted like a stuck hog.

“Miss....Miss....Ha-ha-ha! Holy fucking shit! Ha-ha-ha!” A hand was waved at her as he busted up raucously.

Pulling himself together at the very last second, he fell stoic, switch flipping once more, completing his statement clearly, his voice losing more octaves.

“Your mother said she hadn't seen you all day, but that I should try you at work....”

A weak sniffle escaped Sienna and it was first sound she'd made since Taryll since his rant had began.

Leaning back in his seat, incredulity all over his face and rage in his eyes, Taryll added,

“Tell me something, Sienna...if I'm allegedly such a good ass provider and you want for nothing—your words not mine—”

His left brow bumped his hairline.

“ —then why the hell are you, my girlfriend of damn near seven years, working?”

More tears fell, and Sienna shuddered as Taryll leaned closer to her, elbow up on the table, long finger singling her out.

“When we got together, I made a very explicit point of telling you: women in my family don't work. We follow the 'traditional' gender roles in my family. Always have. As far back as I can remember. Gramps worked, Grandma didn't. Pops worked, Mother didn't. All six of my uncles do, my three aunts don't! That's just how it is for us! Men are men and take care of their women--”

“That's not true, Taryll!” Sienna interrupted shrilly, and the color drained from Taryll's face.

“Excuse me?” His voice was just as shrill. “You calling me a liar, to my goddamned face? Girrrrrrl--”

“Farrah and Tawny both work--”

A finger went up, wagging at her in reprimand.

“Close your mouth, please.”

Lips were sucked in, eyes growing steadily larger as Taryll carved off another piece of beef and chomped on it, smacking.

“My brothers' wives do not work, Sienna, they supervise...there is a difference.” He pointed out.

“Farrah is a former trainer who runs a gym, and Tawny used to be a chorus girl on Broadway, with her dance studio now. Both of them supervise others. They don't lift a finger—they don't have to! And neither do you! My brothers gave those 'businesses' to them to keep them occupied! My entire family is well-off enough where the ladies do not have to work at anything more than looking pretty, tending house and if they pop out a couple, raising children! ”

Disobeying the command, Sienna straightened, her shoulders squaring and she spoke up,

“I had to do this Taryll! I had to work this one job! It was important, it wasn't even about the money--”

“Really now?” A smug grin crossed his face. “And what was so important about it?”

“You know...before we got together, I did pageant hair and makeup for kids, that was my job...”

“Yes.” Taryll was solemn, sliding the skewer through his teeth, eating the olives and pearl onion attached to it.

“Well, one of the little girls I used to work for was entering her very first teen pageant. I hadn't seen her since she was six-years-old! But she and her mother wanted me to make her up, for old time's sake!” Sienna's momentum was starting to lack and her eyes fell back to the polished hardwood of the table.

“I did it as a favor to them. I didn't even charge them. I...I missed it so badly. The excitement of it all, the thrill, the rush! Being there, transforming kids into winners with a sweep of a brush. And Kassidy did place first in her division! I helped her win the crown! It's enjoyable to me. It's pleasurable to me, Taryll! It's a passion for me! Can't you understand that?”

Across the table, it was Taryll's turn to shift.

“I'm...accustomed to certain things, Sienna. I'm used to being the one that works. The Jackson family has a string of music schools all over the state and two in Oregon. I oversee three of them! And it's not an easy task keeping up with it all. Dealing with kids who lack talent, and who have egos bigger than the Sierra Madre! Not to mention their pig-headed parents, and the temperamental artistic instructors. All artists are temperamental. After a day of busting my ass and avoiding kicking some ass, I like to come home and find my pretty girlfriend waiting there for me. A man likes to come home and see his lady there! Maybe it is old-fashioned that I like to come home and you hand me a drink and hug me and kiss me and we talk about how our days went...”

Sighing loudly, Taryll's shoulders rose and fell as he chewed on his bottom lip in thought.

“You kept working pageants a short while when we first started dating. Honestly, I didn't like it, Sienna. I really didn't like it. You were gone out of town to a contest every weekend, and then during the week, there were photo shoots and this and that...And I know it's something that would never stop, because there's pageants every weekend. I can't have you gone from me all fifty-two weekends out the damn year, Sienna!”

POP!

His hands were clasped under his chin again and he regarded her a long moment.

“Now, I don't know if this is a seven year itch, but consider it scratched by the stunt you pulled last Saturday. Our relationship is a certain way, and it's worked thus far, so I see no reason to go mangle a good thing...”

He was pinching at her chin.

“...and we do have a good thing going, Sienna. That is, when you do the things I ask and not give me any trouble or be deceptive.”

Releasing her face, Taryll rose from his chair, and moving to her side, he squatted down so he was somewhat level with her, steadying himself with his hand on her thigh through the flimsy fabric of her dress.

“I thought you liked being told what to do...I thought you got off on being...”

His eyes turned pure gold in his head as they washed over her, with him sucking in his bottom lip with earnest.

“...being the 'sub' to my 'dom'.”

Cheeks flushing, she ducked her head, Taryll squeezing after her flesh, his weight pressing down as he pushed himself back into an upright position.

He loomed, staring down at her lowered head, a hand falling into the pocket on his jacket.

From his pocket he produced his key ring, crystal-studded, guitar-shaped charm dangling from it.

Dropping it into her lap, he instructed,

“Go get in the car, while I settle up on the bill for dinner. We're going for a drive, and we're going to resolve this issue.”

Her chair was tugged back, and Sienna rose onto shaky legs.

Taryll's hands caught her shoulders, his lips bumping at her wet cheeks, not caring about the bitter flavor her running mascara had to have left in his mouth.

Swiping at the tears on her face, she heard Taryll calling for the check.

Starting for the door, Sienna glanced at the keys in her hand.

A drive...he wanted to go for a drive...

Yet, somehow, she knew the scenery wasn't on his mind.

The few, silent, excruciating moments Sienna spent by herself, slumped in the passenger seat of the Corvette were ones utilized for reflection and recounting.

Taryll had said nothing foreign to her in Cafe Neptune; he had always been upfront and crystal clear in how he carried himself, what he had expected from their relationship and of her.

He and his brothers had been raised to be the breadwinners of their families, and to be the heads of their households.

All of their significant others were indeed, kept women.

It was old-fashioned, a sentiment from another era that preceded their births, and perhaps even that of their parents and grandparent.

They were children of a modern world, where ideas and lifestyles varied so from this ancient relic of a mindset from the past.

Nowadays women didn't have to rely on a boyfriend or a husband to get by; they could blaze a path for themselves by themselves.

And yet...and yet....there was something frankly comforting about the entire arrangement for Sienna.

Knowing she'd always have her home, and anything she wanted. That a credit card with Taryll's name stamped on it was all she needed on her person to acquire whatever her heart desired.

That in a world where yes, she could work, didn't need to...

She had lived this lifestyle for nearly seven years. She had played the part as second banana to Taryll.

And there was nothing to complain about. He had treated her as a princess, just as he had said. Given her the finest of the fine.

A beautiful home that was the envy of all her friends, fine jewelry, clothes, a gold Covette that matched his silver one...Sienna was a Barbie doll with all the accessories.

Taryll's Barbie doll.

By the light of the moon, she peered at the tiny heart circling her finger.

Though she and Taryll weren't officially engaged to be married, it had been understood long ago, that the day would come, when he would ask for her hand.

Sienna mind drifted to that of his brother's wives, Farrah and Tawny, the beautiful, sweet, vivacious ladies they were. Women she counted as friends and saw on a regular basis through shopping trips, spa outings and general “Girl's Days”

How some day in the future, she would be like them. A Mrs. Jackson...and perhaps like Farrah a mother to a Baby Jackson of her own.

In all the time she'd known them, Sienna couldn't recall a time when either Farrah or Tawny had seemed unhappy about the arrangement with their husbands.

About being kept women.

They were always smiling, cheerful, blissful ladies.

Why couldn't Sienna be like them? Happy with her good fortune and the things she had when so many others lacked?

Why was Sienna bucking so hard about this makeup artist thing? After she had dropped it so long ago? She did care for Taryll, loved him deeply, and had tried to embrace his way of life...which she had done for so many years without issue.

But the “work” wasn't work to Sienna at all.

It was more of a hobby, an enjoyment to her, a wonderful way to pass the time and it was just icing on the cake that she could be paid to essentially have fun all day while playing with sweet children and helping to turn them into miniature beauty queens.

If only she could open Taryll's eyes to that fact...

If only...

Anxiety overwhelmed her, as suddenly, Taryll rounded the corner of the building, hulking across the pavement towards the car.

His jacket had been removed, draped over one arm, his black tee tight and hugging his form so that every ripple and wave were visible.

His strong, powerful, thickset body...so much larger than Sienna's minute figure.

Taryll had always liked the differences in their statures. He liked having a petite small woman at his side, not only did he want to be the head, he wanted to give the appearance of his being in charge should anyone see them together.

As he drew near, the words he had spoken in the restaurant resonated in her head:

“I thought you got off on being the 'sub' to my 'dom'...”

As perverse and strange as it was, Sienna did have a particular liking for being bossed around, told what to do, and appeasing her lover.

Taryll craved control and Sienna indulged his kink in that respect.

If only it could have stayed confined to the bedroom and not overlapped into other areas of her life!

The dome light illuminated as the driver's door was opened, the jacket carelessly flung behind the seat, with Taryll sliding in next to her

Wordlessly, the vehicle was started, backed from its spot and merged into traffic.

The pair rode along in silence for a expanse of time, that seemed an eternity to Sienna.

Long enough for the packed highway to become sparser and sparser, until they were the only only car on the road, with Taryll finally taking an exit a half-hour after their leaving Cafe Neptune.

Eventually the paved road gave way to nothing but sand, as Taryll steered his big boy toy onto a vacant patch of beach, the pallid moonlight shimmering and bouncing off of the soft waves of the ocean a few yards away.

The car was thrown into park, windows rolled down, allowing the salty breeze in, and the engine shut off.

Hands gripping the steering wheel, finally...finally, Taryll's mouth opened.

“This baby pageant makeup artist gig, how important is it to you? Scale of one to ten.”

Tentatively, Sienna glanced up at him; he was staring ahead at the splashing water.

Jaw muscles clenched, bridge of his nose squinched as the nostrils flared.

Thumbs twiddling in her lap, a feeble attempt to rein in her waning nerve, Sienna's was quiet and hoarse.

“A...a solid nine Taryll...at least...” She managed, her voice cracking mid-sentence.

“It does mean a very lot to me. You...you see I did give it up for a long time...before I went back to it. Almost seven years! That has to hold some kind meaning with you--”

His hand was up, trembling, and her lips pressed together, silence cloaking them again.

Thump....thump....thump...

His free hand tapped the wheel, his mind almost audibly firing as he thought and gathered his words.

“You know, it's not even the idea of you working that really bothers me, Sienna...” Taryll admitted slowly, and he turned in his seat to face her, eyes wide in his face.

“...it just worried me about you being alone driving here, there and yonder to these little rinky-dink contests. I mean, if it were something big like Miss Teen USA or something, I guess I could breathe easier, but I know most of these pageants go down in out of the way little cities at fairs and in gymnasiums and things.... You never know who's out there, who's watching you. Laying in wait for an opportunity. At least when you're at home, I know you're safe. I mean...Sienna...”

His hand fell to her thigh massaging it, with him moving closer to her.

“You're my lady, you're my world. If anything happened to you...” He trailed off, face going pale, he turned back to the water. “

“Don't get it twisted. It's not that I don't trust you, I do. Emphatically. We've been together forever, of course I trust you, Sienna. It's the other people I don't trust. All I've wanted is to make you happy, see you smile. And I can't take this away from you, this doing makeup, if it will bring you that joy you want. I can't do that. I'm your man, and as your man it's my duty to make sure you are happy. I refuse to make you miserable over something like this. If you want to do your makeup, Sienna, then we'll figure out some kind of schedule to compromise and we'll be able to put this behind us.”

His hand was in her hair, caressing the back of her neck.

“I don't want you to think of me in any way, but positively, favorably. I don't ever want you to be upset with me, Sienna. I love you too much, you know that. You be the best damn makeup artist you can be!”

Sienna ducked her head, not from shyness, but so Taryll couldn't see her beaming at her swiftly gained victory.

“...Thank you...”

He was close to her, his breaths warm and quickening against her cheek.

“Don't tell me 'thank you'...” He whispered, moist lips on her earlobe.

“Show me.”

The hand that had been pressed to her thigh came up, balling the front of her dress and in one fluid movement, she was yanked forward, with Taryll mashing his mouth mercilessly to hers.

His mouth so damp, slick and tasting sharply of the the brine that had been in his martinis, as it all but crushed, her painted little mouth, his tongue forcing it's way in and down her throat.

Flittering around so far down, he was nearly gagging her and threatening to make her Ahi Tuna come sailing back up.

“Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!” Sienna struggled against him, not to really to get him off of her or to flee him, but because she knew it excited him all the more to have her try to fight him, a futile gesture as Taryll could overpower her as easily as breathing.

The fervent kisses slowed, with Sienna sucking on Taryll's bottom lip.

“Baby...Baby...Baby...”

The word came from Taryll's mouth, his lips snapping back into place, heavy with lust, with him settling back into his seat, up, hand hitting a lever, and sending the steering wheel up into his highest setting.

Another lever was released, his seat reclining several degrees but not leaving him completely supine.

Tucking his arms back behind his head, he gazed at the upholstered roof over their heads.

“You know what to do... you know what I want...”

Slowly his head turned to her, his eyes slits of wanton in his that burnished gold face.

“The hell you waiting on? An engraved invite? Girrrrrrl....”

Taryll dipped his dimpled chin, indicating the coarse swelling starting to make itself known between his strapping, massive thighs, the fly on his jeans straining under the pressure.

Hands in her hair, Sienna removed her headband, knowing from experience that an accessory like that would only get in the way, and tossed it onto the dashboard.

The rest was tucked out the way, behind her ears.

Leaning over Taryll, his abdomen flipping and flopping with anticipation, she started to fiddle with the button on his fly.

The zipper was disengaged, revealing the dark green silk of his briefs, the impression of his hardened cock impossible to ignore, the hefty, lengthy shaft culminating in the bulbous tip, as his erection stretched his usually hanging foreskin away.

“Yes...God, yes...” Taryll whimpered, lowering his head to watch as the light fabric was eased back, allowing his manhood to flop out, backed by a wild bush of blackish curls.

“Sienna...yes...my...my nuts...”

As requested, his scrotum, round, full and furry were also freed.

“Aw!” He gasped sharply, as small, warm hands took him, stroking him, feeling his hardness.

“Son of a bitch!”

Tongue coming past her lips at a sharp point, Sienna first traced his mushroom-shaped tip, playing into the little indentation marking the center of the tip...

“Oh my God! Oh...Sienna, get it... Get it, Baby...” Taryll urged, teeth clenching and grinding, his head falling back as her head went down slowly advancing until her lips met his nest of hair.

“Deep...you're deep-throating me...oh, shit....Shit!”

He cried, a fist punching the roof overhead.

“Yes! Yes! Fucking yes!”

His hand was on her back, slipping down towards her buttocks as she bobbed on him.

Though he was large and long, it was no feat for Sienna to take him completely down her throat.

She had had years of practice with him. And knew just what to do to turn his sparks into a raging inferno.

“Suck....suck it.... suck your man.... yes....” He murmured, lifting her skirt up to expose her matching pink, cheeky boy-shorts.

His hand slipped under the thin fabric sliding over her slim, taut buttocks, palming the cheeks.

Her booty was circled a couple of times, then his hand began to make its ascent.

As his fingers collided with her warm, tight slit, he was abruptly spit out, with Sienna crying.

“Don't do that—Ow! Ow! Taryll! Ow!”

She shrieked shrilly as he grabbed onto her hair,twisting it,Sienna yanked up, Taryll bringing his face close to hers, staring down his nose at her with a lethalness that cooled her blood in her veins.

Brows up slightly, eyes, partially lidded, mouth flat.

“But did I tell you to get off my dick?” He questioned hotly and not getting a response quickly enough,

shook her.

“Answer me!”

“No! No! I'm sorry Taryll—No!” Sienna begged as she was thrown back with such force she crumpled against the passenger side door.

Opening the driver's door, Taryll regarded her a few seconds, turned to a treacherous silhouette by the dome light, stating darkly,

“Too late for your 'sorrys' now.”

A button was pressed, causing the trunk to pop open in rear of the car, and Taryll stood, not caring his erect junk was bobbing all over here and yonder, walking away as Sienna, tangled by her own panties struggled to pull them up and get upright.

But it was too late, much too late.

“OOOF!”

The door behind Sienna was tugged open, and with nothing but air to hold her, she toppled, end over end out of the Corvette, landing in a disenfranchised heap in the white sand at Taryll's feet.

Actually, she landed on his music-note sneakers, bare little ass pointed skywards. She was unintentionally mooning him.

A strong hand gripped her bicep, pulling her onto her knees, the dress wrenched from her, exposing her bralette,

“You're not hurt...” He was shoving that hunk of meat down her throat. “Come on, you know what I need. You know what your man needs. Get with it, Sienna...”

Stooping, Taryll placed his arms on the hardtop of his car, head down, observing as Sienna resumed her blowing, one hand around the base of his shaft, twisting, her mouth sliding up and down him, intermittently, falling back to kiss his tip and nibble at his scrotum, her other hand against his thigh, green briefs and black denim partly covering it, to maintain her balance.

The aroma of Taryll's Acqua di Gio was making her lightheaded, as Taryll had the habit of saturating himself with the scent on his man bits.

“Yes, Sienna.... you're a little expert at eating my meat aren't you? Yes you are! Yes you are! Look at what you're doing! Dick bigger than you and you're down to my hairs in it! Bet the tip hitting the bottom of your stomach! Little ass...Shit....”

He goaded, eyes first widening then snapping shut as the little pink mouth, pursed and glossy took to his balls, kissing around.

“Mmmmmmm....” A low steady hum began to emit from Taryll and Sienna smirked into his groin; he only made that noise when he was close to climax.

“S...s...stop....stop, Sienna....” A handful of hair at the crown of her head was grabbed and she was tugged back roughly.

“I said stop!”

He barked, squatting in front of her, hand on her throat, thumb digging in.

“You always did have such difficulty in following rules, doing the things I say, I've noticed! You just like to get on my nerves, upset me—don't you? ”

She was rattled violently, and tossed against the still open door.

“You just can't let me be nice. Have to make me turn into a dirty bastard! Every time! Every goddamned time!”

Sienna knowing he was falling into his dominant male act, smiled as he moved away, to the open trunk, with various items bumping and thudding out of sight.

When he returned, his shirt had been removed, revealing is slick, gleaming upper torso, full and supple, darker nipples bouncing with each step being taken.

Under one arm, a thick, patchwork quilt, had been tucked.

The quilt was thrown into Sienna's face with him only stating,

“Spread it out.”

Quickly, the faded, floral fabric was unfolded and laid on the sand, alongside the car.

Though her back was to him, by the swooshing of extra fabric, Sienna knew Taryll was taking the rest of his clothing off.

Her assumptions were right, as she sat back on the blanket and found him standing at the end of it, pulling at himself absently, pink tongue swirling around his lips.

Naked as a jaybird.

The chain that had once graced his hip, dangled from his free hand.

Stepping onto the quilt he dropped to his knees, “walking” to her.

Resting in front of her, he let the chain fall, eyes fixed on Sienna, burning into and through her.

His arms were around her, his mouth on hers, kissing, sucking, smacking licking, even moaning, he was going after her so freely, so hard, so...frantically.

The two tumbled back, the full weight of Taryll's larger body pinning Sienna's smaller beneath him.

“...Well, my little makeup artiste....” He huffed into her face, cradling her against him, his hands kneading at her bosom through the chiffon barely covering them.

“It's my turn to make....” His eyes narrowed so they were almost shut an evil cast taking over his entire being to the point, Sienna gasped in something that was actually true fright rather than feigned.

“... Make you scream...”

Sienna's head crashed into the ground Taryll laying on her again, going to town kissing her.

Further down, his left hand was easing past the waistband of her underwear.

“Ah! Taryll! Oooooh! Oooooh! Oooooh!”

She whimpered into his mouth, his three middle fingers rushing past her delicate folds, down to the knuckles.

“No....No! No! No! Tare—No....!” She begged, his fingers starting to move back and forth, awakening places in her she neglected to remember existed.

“Shut up....you know you like it....” Taryll grinned at her, eyes meeting hers for a split second, mouth covering hers again and sucking up all her screams of protest.

“Taryll! Stop it! You know what doing that does! Taryll! Don't Taryll! Please!”

Repeatedly, she grabbed for his hand, arm, wrist, anything to get him away from her, each attempt, a larger hand would mash her wrists, painfully, and throw her hands out the way.

“Oh my God...” She whispered, sudden, fresh redness rushing to her face, an abrupt, tingling sensation washing over her. “...I'm gonna come...”

It was too much. His touch was too much for her, always, and it was only minutes before she found herself surrendering to him.

“And I want you to get wetter than the ocean—oh, shit!” Taryll's smart-mouthing was interrupted, a hot dampness flowing over his fingers and rushing, soaking the panties in seconds.

“Yes! That's what I like to see! Get went baby! Make the ocean jealous! Put it to shame! Hot damn! It's going everywhere!”

As he rejoiced, Sienna sank into the quilt, staring up at the blackened sky, pinpointed by the white of stars and the sphere that was the moon.

She could hear the waves lapping the shore int eh distance and aside from that was the only her heavy breathing a string of interwoven obscenities flying from Taryll.

“...so fucking hot! Damn, that's so hot when you do that shit! Makes me crazy! Makes me want lose my mind and go straight barbarian on your ass!”

Smooches were left on her forehead as the panties were stripped away—it still perplexed Sienna as to why he never removed her bralette—hand on grasping her bicep, he was pulling her up on weakened legs and unstable knees.

“I can't wait another second! I've been holding this in since dinner. Can't wait...come here, are you trying to run?”

In reality, Sienna was stumbling, her orgasm having wracked her petite body beyond repair, but it was far too late.

WHAM!

She was bodily lifted and thrown onto the warm hood of the car, just far enough where her feet were no longer able to touch the ground.

Again, laughs were stifled and her smiles hidden as Taryll momentarily left her dangling, retrieving the chain from the quilt below.

“Need you to wax this pole right quick...” He wheezed, pulling her arms back behind her, wrapping the chain around her wrists, binding them together.

As she began to buck and kick, her face was pressed against the hood, Taryll leaning over her, weighing her down.

“Don't start that! You know you want this! You always act like you don't want me to do this to you--”

“I thought you liked for me to put up a struggle, make you work for it?” Sienna, breaking character teased and howled as a stinging slap was delivered to her ass.

“TARYLL—DAMN YOU!”

“That's right, scream my name! That's what I like to hear!”

Sienna was lifted a bit, Taryll's hands finding her breasts, as the very same time, the “rest” of him found her.

“Oh.....mmmmm....mmmm....mmmm....mmmm....”

Losing the ability to vocalize as the heft of her lover connected with her in the most intimate of ways she could only mimic his humming.

Taryll, on the other hand, was having no trouble whatsoever in making himself heard:

“Yeah....oh yeah! Yeah, girl! Oh...oh, this is what I needed. Feel so good. You love this! Tell me you love this!”

He was pecking along the back of her neck and shoulders.

It took quite a bit of effort, but Sienna managed to cry,

“I love it! I love it, Taryll, I love your big dic—OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!”

Leaning back, and using the chains looped at her wrists for leverage, Taryll was slamming into her with such power, her buttocks quivered with each strike and even in the cover of night, he could see it turning cherry, and swelling slightly.

“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! That's the way I like it! Yes! Hell yes! So wet! Fuck!”

She couldn't see him, but she could hear him and most certainly feel him.

Every single tooth-chattering thrust, the heat of his body, the droplets of sweats starting to collide with and dampen her back.

The way that engorged cock, full to near busting, sliding in and out of her, up and down and in circles within her tight, unforgiving little slit.

Wiggling her tits, Taryll was on her back mashing her into the hood, holding her down as his thrusts increased to an insane level of speed, Sienna's mouth hanging open, but no sound coming out.

Splash! PLOP! PLOP! PLOP! PLOP! PLOP!

Liquid was running from her, wetting not only herself but Taryll, the clapping noise between them exacerbated.

“You're coming! Rain on me! Rain all over me Sienna, Baby! Yes! Yes!”

His teeth gnashed at her shoulder.

Then he was off of her, swiftly, his voice low, and frighteningly calm,

“It's time.”

His hands were around her throat, pulling her to her feet, then shoving her onto her knees in front of him.

“Get it...” He was repeating himself, pressing only the tip past her lips. “Get it girl,it's almost there. Right at the tip. Almost there...here it comes!”

Left hand stroking away, the right tangled in his hair, his breathing at its heaviest.

“Oh....Sienna...oh, oh—AW!”

“Ugh!” Sienna half-gagged as with more force than she anticipated, he fired off into her mouth, white hotness splattered against the back of her throat.

“Oh yeah, that's what I like to see...” Taryll dropped to his knees in front of her, rapture gripping his chiseled features, as he studied her a long, loving moment.

And that quickly the charade was dropped, goofy smile appearing and he condoned,

“Go ahead...”

Pulling from his grasp, Sienna crawled to the edge of the quilt, dug a small hole in the sand and spat his seed away, burying it.

“You never can swallow it, no matter how you try...” He teased, laying down on his belly and easing the chiffon of her bralette back, exposing a round, albeit small, breast.

“I don't care if you do or not...I got what I wanted...hot ass!”

He kissed at the nipple, looking up through his lashes at her.

“...and you got what you wanted, correct?”

“Correct...” Sienna giggled, bending down to meet his lips once more.

“Come here...I love you...” Her head was pressed against his chest, arms squeezing her tightly.

“God, I love you, Sienna....”

“I love you too, Taryll.”

* * *

A Week Later

Costa Mesa, California

“...just hold your mouth like you normally do! Don't do a 'duckface'. Hold your mouth—is your name Kylie and are you taking a selfie?”

“Tee-hee! No ma'am!”

“Then please hold still so I don't ruin your lipstick. You want to look your best onstage, don't you Braelynn?”

Sienna questioned sweetly, gently tilting the sitting child's head up slightly as she continued to giggle, care not to muss her hair, a piled, labor intensive up-do that took over an hour to arrange and spray into place, not to mention the styling of the huge piece that had to be lightened to exactly match Braelynn's natural, platinum blonde locks.

Wielding a small, stiff brush, Sienna began filling in the child's lips with a light, bubblegum pink lipstick, with a touch of frost to it, to compliment the Barbie pink, heavily embellished dress, probably weighing more than the child itself, so covered with appliques, pearls and gems it was, Braelynn's tired, frazzled mother was removing from a tiny garment bag and and holding on the opposite end of the hotel room, anticipating slipping it onto the seven-year-old.

“Almost...almost...there! Done!” Sienna sighed with relief, throwing her hands up.

Stooping down, she eyed Braelynn, breaking into a grin and commenting,

“Now, I don't want you to go getting a swollen head, but you look to me like you could win Division Queen...maybe even the Overall Supreme Queen title!”

“That's the best title out the whole pageant!” Braelynn squeaked, immediately shutting eyes, her tiny face wearing more cosmetics than any second-grader should have had access to, (but in the child pageantry world, it was as common as a baseball at a Little League game, and needed if there was a chance to win) allowing Sienna to mist her with setting spray.

“That's cold!” The little girl giggled, as she was helped down from the chair, a large bath towel around her to hide the fact she only wore her underthings with the frilly socks and white patent shoes required for the “evening wear” portion of the competition.

As she was helped into her gown, Sienna put her brushes aside in her huge makeup case, grabbing the final touch, the crystal laden rosette that coordinated with the others adorning her pricey dress, resting on her heels to carefully pin it to the side of the child's head without disturbing her hair.

“Ouch!”

“I know you don't like those bobby pins, but they're needed to keep it in place...”

Sienna stopped mid-sentence, something catching her eye by the door.

Though dressed down in a hoodie, jeans and sneakers, the figure was tall, thickset and imposing.

And clutched to his chest was a bouquet of lilies of the valley.

“Taryll...” Sienna blinked in disbelief as he came forward, shuffling with the shyness of a little boy approaching his very first crush.

“What are you doing here?”

“I'm....I'm her boyfriend...” Taryll explained to the mother and daughter, taking Sienna's hand and helping her to her feet.

“Why am I here?” He repeated, leaning to kiss her cheek, voice dropping as he whispered into her ear.

“I'm supposed to be here. My support for you and your endeavors go beyond handing you a credit card, you know that.”

Blinking back tears of heartfelt delight, Sienna left a red lip print on his cheek.

plucking a bloon from the bouquet he presented it to Braelynn.

“Here you go, Sweetie. Good luck. I'm sure you'll win.”

“Thank you!” The child snickered, holding the flower under a tiny nose.

“We...we were just going down to the ballroom for the pageant....” Sienna hastily wiped at her damp eyes, allowing Taryll to slip his arm around her middle, and they fell instep behind Braelynn and her mother.

At the four headed to the elevators, Sienna was sure of it:

Being “kept” by Taryll Jackson wasn't such a bad thing after all.