"Nothing."
"Then how do you know what she knows?"
"How could she not? And the way I'm walking around like a basket case, I might as well take out an ad in the fucking Sentinel."
"Relax, baby. It's not that bad."
He's comforting me, but that's not what I want.
I rub against him. It's like he's a conduit for all my fucked up, misplaced sexual energy. I can't believe Thomas was ever able to handle me. “I'm a slut, Brian. Treat me like one."
"Here?"
"My sluttiness is surprisingly portable. It works anywhere."
He grabs my ass. “I thought you hated me."
"I do, you're obnoxious and you practically raped me,” I quipped. “But I want you anyway. That's what makes me a slut."
"What you need,” he growls in my ear, “is a spanking."
"What I want is a fuck…"
"But you'll take what I give."
My panties are wetting all over again. “If you think you can resist me.” I try and unzip him. He's too fast. He bends me over the railing. Smacks me hard.
"Ouch!"
He smacks me a second time.
"Mother fucker, your father doesn't hit that hard."
"He's too nice."
"If somebody comes through here,” I wince, “and you'll end up in jail, like I have been telling you all along."
"Makes it more exciting, don't you think? Telling the establishment to go fuck itself, playing them right under their noses?"
He whacks me at will; I can't do anything but take the heat. Thank god it's through my jeans.
"You sound like a lost hippie. Hasn't anybody told you to act your age?"
"What about you … Daddy's little girl?"
"It's baby girl, and you may not call me that."
"Don't want to. Not my thing. I'll call you what I want to.” He reaches around and pinches me nipple. “Isn't that right?"
"Owww … yes … you mother fucker."
He takes my arm. “Let's go."
We head down. “What about the elevator?"
"You need the exercise."
"Like hell. I run three miles a day. I'm in better shape than you."
"You need the humility, then. In fact, I think I'll take the elevator. Meet you at the bottom."
"I'll beat you."
"You can try."
I meet him in the lobby, biggest shit eating grin on my face. “Nice you could join us."
Not sure why I'm flying like this. I am this close to Monica finding me out, which means losing my job not to mention any hope of seeing the man I love ever again.
Whoa … do I love Thomas?
It's not the first time I've said it-we say it a lot, he's a firm believer in owning your feelings, not worrying about how it all adds up. But up to now it's been compartmentalized. A few minutes ago it all got blown wide open.
"You're a smart ass,” he takes my waist. “You know that?"
"I'm told it's my best quality."
"So where do you wanna play-your place or mine?"
"You have a place?"
"A motel room. Decent enough."
"Perfect. You can ravish me in it all afternoon."
"We'll need to make a couple of stops first."
"I can't imagine what you have in mind."
First stop is the adult toy store. Brian wants restraints. We get a basic set that fits under the mattress, with Velcro cuffs for ankles and wrists. A blindfold is also a must. He puts it on me from behind while I'm looking at vibrators.
Thomas loves to play with my senses. Once he led me naked through the backyard of his condominium, my eyes tightly sealed from the world. My hand was in his, the sun kissed my golden skin, and I felt the tickle of the grass on my bare feet. “I just want to see you in your element. You put nature to shame."
Hardly! I was always telling Thomas to get his eyes checked. But he was a very stubborn man. He insisted I was beautiful and that was that. Round and round the yard we went. He picked wild flowers for me to smell, he rubbed the petals on my lips, and he touched a twig to my nipple. A cord pulled in my body so tight I thought it would snap like a piano wire. I had visions of him taking a switch and whipping me. I never did dare to tell him that.
Wonder why?
"What are you thinking?” Brian is at my back, caressing my cheek.
"You'll use it against me."
"Only if you let me."
"That's what I'm worried about."
He laughs and takes the blindfold off. I readjust to the light. As we continue to walk I hold his hand. I'm a little excited, a little scared. Is it all happening too fast? It would be if it weren't for the connection through Thomas.
Or is that an excuse for me falling back into my old impetuous self?
We continue to explore the store. He picks up a crop, taps my thigh lightly.
"I don't think so,” I raise an eyebrow.
He smiles, a private joke. With mixed emotions I watch as he puts it back, keeping the restraints. And he wants a collar, too. My heart beats more quickly.
"Definitely not,” I tell him.
"Look at me.” He holds one up against me.
"Stop it,” I brush it away.
"Arms down."
"No."
"Yes."
My eyes flash, his flash back.
Something zaps in the air. Suddenly we don't feel like talking anymore.
"Let's go,” we say to each other, simultaneously. We buy the collar and the rest of the items. Brian hasn't got enough cash so we put it all on my credit card, which is damned close to the max as it is. Who knows what I'll need to be putting on it in weeks to come. Groceries. Gas. The power bill.
I have maybe three months saved up to cover the rent once Monica pulls the plug on my salary. After that, I'll have to find a real job.
"Caroline,” he checks on the way to the motel, getting all Dom like. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?"
"After the money I just spent? You got to be kidding me?"
"I'll pay you back out of my first hit album. Seriously, though, you and me are pretty volatile together. We could get into it hot and heavy and there won't be any turning back."
"Turning back from what? What are you talking about and why are you trying to think ahead?"
"Someone has to."
"No they don't.” I move my hand to his crotch. “We are passing time. Minute to minute."
He snatches it away. “Not without permission."
"Like hell.” I try again; he holds my wrist in a vise-like grip.
"Do that again, and I'll make you take your shirt off."
"Fat chance."
He lets go of my hand and pulls up the hem of my shirt.
"Cut it out."
"Will you behave?"
"Not bloody likely."
He gets quiet. Not sure what that means.
We get to the motel, park the car. The place is non-smoking. We light up together. Midway through he says. “Here's the deal. I want to play Master and slave. And I want to play hard. You can have a safe word, but otherwise I want to just … dominate."
"The word will be dirt,” I tell him. “And you sure as shit better honor it."
He grins. “You got it."
"Fine,” I sigh, covering my nervous excitement under a veneer of indifference. “What do I do … Master?"
"Wait for me on your knees, facing the door,” he orders. “Bra and panties only."
I raise a brow. “Wow. That's original."
"I'd call it classic, slave. I'd get a move on,” he warns, “or I'll strip you right here."
I roll my eyes as he opens the door for me.
"I'll be out here, smoking,” he tells me, shutting me in.
Son of a bitch. Cocky little pup. I'm tempted to turn the double bolt, lock him out. I'll be damned if I'll roll over and play dead. I flop down on the bed, flipping through the TV channels.
He walks in, observes me and quietly takes off his worn leather boots.
My pulse is racing. I'm so ready for a little fun fight, but when I don't get one right I'm a little disappointed.
Brian goes in the bathroom and takes a shower. I turn the lights off on him and race back to bed.