“Where did you go? All of a sudden, you zoned out.” Something was definitely up with her. She arrived looking like a hobo in sweatpants and a university T-shirt. What happened to the put-together girl who dined with me at Smith and Wollensky’s, or the girl who met me for coffee yesterday? Where had she disappeared to?
“I was thinking of my first time. It was a ‘hit it and quit it.’ The experience erased any romantic notions I might have had. I was a commodity he’d purchased. I don’t want you to think you’re Julia Roberts and Mr. Broom,” she giggled at the name she’d given him, “is going to sweep you off your feet. He’s not. You’re not his first, and you won’t be his last.”
I understood I wasn’t special. I’d been reminded all my life of that fact. “Damn it, you’re not listening to me. He made it clear he wasn’t looking for a relationship. His exact words were, ‘I don’t want the entanglements of a relationship. I’m not interested in pleasing a woman in every aspect of her life. Blah, blah, blah.’ He waited days to say yes to my profile. I’m not even sure he’s really into me.” My latte seemed less appealing now that the milk froth had evaporated, but I sipped at it anyway. I’d have to get used to things being less appealing.
“He’s into you, or he will be.” She graced me with a bright smile, making me feel less stressed. I would have felt more confident if it had reached her eyes. “I’m sorry. I love you, River, and I want this to work out for you. Don’t fall for him. It’s hard to distinguish between real and fantasy. Don’t allow yourself to get hurt.”
“I won’t.”
“Just keep telling yourself it’s only sex. These men will never love you. They will love what you give them. Don’t forget that.”
“Good advice.” My eyes fell on her university shirt. “Are you off to the gym, or are you trying to get in touch with your inner waif?” She looked bad.
Not only was she wearing sweats two sizes too big, her shirt was wrinkled and hung off her body. Her hair looked like she hadn’t brushed it in days, but instead, she’d pulled it into a messy bun and left the house as if unaware. The mischievous spark that lived in her eyes was gone. She was still pretty, but it would be hard to compare her to the runway goddess she was the last time I saw her. Something was up. She would never leave the house looking like a street urchin.
“I’m tired. I had a rough night. My body and mind are exhausted.” Her lips pressed together into a thin line, glued shut like she was trying to stop from saying something else.
“How is the dynamic duo?” Giving her boys a name made them real and gave me a way to ask questions without breaking protocol.
“Good, except that they are now more dynamic and not always a duo.” A tear slipped from her eye, confirming she was holding back.
“It’s time to come clean, Jade. I know you can’t divulge names, but what the hell is going on? You look like Lindsay Lohan after a stint in prison. Pull yourself together and spill.”
“Everything is all right. The dynamics of my agreement have changed. I thought I was signing up for one thing, and now it’s different.” The tear running down her cheek wrenched my heart. She had always been the rock of Gibraltar. My rock. Today, she was a shadow of her normal self.
“I call bullshit. Listen, I understand about confidentiality, but I’m here. I know your biggest secrets, and I’ve never told a soul. Now we share this huge thing together and…well…we need to share. Let’s talk about the duo. Tomorrow, we can discuss Mr. Broom.”
Silence filled the air while she appeared to contemplate my suggestion. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened, closed, and then spoke. “They shared me with someone else last night. I felt hurt and betrayed. I felt like they took our relationship and tossed it aside when they let another man mess with me while they watched. It was humiliating.”
“Oh, holy hell, Jade. Is that in your contract?” Not that it mattered. She was a person, and her feelings should have been considered first.
“Yes. No. It’s vague. I said I would participate in MMF, which I do with the duo, but my contract is with only one of them. So, he can bring in any other male he wants. He brought in this guy from the club. My duo treats me well. This man didn’t. They didn’t stop any of it. My ass is on fire from the whip, which is why I’m wearing clothes that fit like a damn tent.”
“Oh shit, Jade, are you okay? What club are we talking about? Is this a BDSM thing?” My mind conjured up a dark room full of whips, paddles, and bondage equipment. I had no idea she was into kink. Maybe I didn’t know her secrets like I thought I did.
“Yes, my mentor is a Dom, his partner is a sub. I’m a sub. I spend my public life wielding control over everything, but in the bedroom, I want to let go. I’ve always loved the power exchange, until last night. The power wasn’t exchanged with someone I knew and trusted. I gave it up to a stranger, and it was a huge mistake.”
My throat tightened at her response. It was hard for me to wrap my head around the situation. I only knew the strong kick-ass girl. I didn’t know this broken woman in front of me.
“Have you always been attracted to the lifestyle?”
“Yes. Do you remember Colin Brown?”
“Yes.” Wow. No hesitation whatsoever. Do I remember him? Who could forget him? He had the look of a serial killer in training. Hard. Cold. Relentless.
“He was my first. He would take me behind the gym and spank me before he screwed me against the wall. I loved it. I loved the loss of control, and I loved the sting. I loved the risk. It’s been a thing all these years. I’m sorry I didn’t share, but how do you tell your closest friend that you like men to slap your ass? Especially when her father is your pastor?”
We shared so many secrets; why would this one be any different? Another negative for growing up in a religious family. No one confided in you.
“You could have told me. I would have understood. Tell me now.”
“My mentor wanted training on a particular implement, so he brought a master in to teach him. A lot of time was spent in instruction while I hung from the hooks in the ceiling. Look at my wrists.” She pulled the long-sleeved T-shirt up her arm to reveal dark purple bruises encircling her wrists.
She winced as I held her hands and caressed the bracelets caused by bruising. “Shit, Jade, was there no safe word?” I’m not into BDSM, but I’ve read enough to know there should be a safe word.
“Yes, I refused to use it. I didn’t want to disappoint the duo. They’re important to me.”
And there it was, the look that said it all. I’d seen that look before, but not since her sophomore year of college when she fell for that Italian exchange student, Paolo Bianchi. It had torn her to shreds when he returned to Italy.
She was in love. She loved her duo…and that was why she was adamant I didn’t make the same mistake. She had broken her cardinal rule. Damn it.
“They need to take better care of you. Have you discussed it with them? Certainly, they can’t repeat what they did. Did they let the man have you sexually?” So many questions ran through my head and out of my mouth.
“No, they let him have me mentally, which is worse. He didn’t screw me; he screwed with my brain.” Her shaking hands pulled back and wiped the tears that spilled down her face.
It was easy to overlook vulnerability when someone seemed so strong, but in that moment, Jade needed someone to recognize she was fragile and weak. I slid into the booth next to her and cradled her head against my chest. She winced when I rubbed her back. If her wrists were the color of eggplants, I could only imagine what her ass and back looked like. I made a note to myself to remove bondage, spanking, and restraints from my list. The thought of physical pain held no appeal.
Her tears ran freely. I hoped she could cry her anguish loose and find the tough girl who had been buried behind her sequestered tears. In the back of my head, many things became clear. Jade needed an ally, and her warnings to me about becoming attached came from her personal experiences. I was grateful she brought me on board,
if only to support her.
“I’m sorry. I must be pre-menstrual. I’m not normally this emotional. We met this morning because you had questions about your first encounter. Let’s talk about it.”
And just like that, Jade turned back into the confident, no-nonsense woman I knew. I considered asking her to talk more about last night but realized she needed to feel in control. Advising me would give her something to focus her attention on.
“He’s picking me up at seven, and we—”
“He’s picking you up? Don’t tell me he has your address. I’m such a shitty tutor. Never let them know where you live unless they’re paying for your home. You don’t want them showing up on your doorstep at all hours of the night. You take a cab. They can pay for it, but never let them get that close. Do you understand?” Possibly considering me reprimanded for my stupidity, she continued, “Obviously, Mr. Broom will know where you live, but don’t let anyone else pick you up or send for you.”
“Okay, duly noted.” There was so much I needed to know, but something told me I would learn from trial and error.
“They can put their card on file at a car service. It’s too risky. One night, you’ll come home and find him drunk on your doorstep.” She waved her hand between our faces as if she were shooing away a fly. “All right, enough of that. Where are you going?” Jade was back in control.
“Dinner, and then I don’t know.” He said sushi, but he didn’t give me any details.
“Is it hourly, or the entire night?” She seemed to gain strength with every question.
“I don’t know.” It occurred to me how little I actually did know.
“You need to pry them for more details. The easy way to do that is to tell them you want to be prepared for anything. Ask if you’ll need an overnight bag. Ask if you’ll need a swimsuit. If they say yes, chances are it’s a hotel with a hot tub or pool. What about condoms?”
“They’re on my list. How many should I bring?”
“I never leave with less than six, especially if it’s an overnight.” Slack-jawed, I stared at her. My mind tried to process the information. Six? Who could go six rounds? “I know what you’re thinking, it shows in your wide-open mouth, but three or four is average for an overnight, and if they take the little blue pill, they might be able to go all night.”
I couldn’t imagine going at it three or four times a night. Wouldn’t a girl get dry and sore? “What about lube? Will I need it?” If properly motivated, my body slicked up like an oil-covered road in a rainstorm, but that took the right set of circumstances. Circumstances wouldn’t be ideal in these situations. I’d definitely need lube.
“Will you? I can’t answer that, but guys love it if they think you’re wet for them, so inserting a bit of Astroglide inside before you head out the door will always be received well.”
“I never thought of that.” Clearly, I wouldn’t need it with Jonathan, as he made me wet just thinking about his kisses.
“You’ll go to dinner, then he’ll take you somewhere and you’ll do what you get paid to do. Wednesdays will be hard for you because you have Thursday classes. Keep that in mind when you schedule yourself. On the other hand, you can request a hotel close to campus so you can sleep in. You’ll have to figure out a balance.”
I stared out the window as I contemplated her words and watched people pass by. Not one person out there knew my vagina had become a rental property. A recent article I read indicated that one in five college students turned to the sex trade to help cover college costs. I scanned the crowd and tried to figure out who the twenty percent were. My motivation to enter the sex trade was singularly focused. The top priority was getting through school and chipping away at my student debt. What did Jade say? In two years, I’d be set. I wondered if the experience would change me. It was impossible to say at this juncture, but I couldn’t imagine there wouldn’t be lasting effects.
Jade reverted back to quiet contemplation. Her situation was disturbing on so many levels. First, she had been on this journey for months alone. Second, someone physically hurt her, and her mentors did nothing to protect her. Wasn’t it their job to know her limits when she was not in a place to set her own? Third, she seemed a bit broken, and it scared me.
“What will you do about your situation, Jade? Will you stay with the duo?” She glared at me with a shocked expression.
“Of course. It was my fault. I’m angry with them for not stopping the situation, but I’m angry at myself because I held all the power and didn’t use it. My ass is sore because I was hardheaded and stubborn.”
She saw the almost imperceptible shaking of my head and frowned. “They had a responsibility to ensure your safety. I don’t pretend to understand the D/s relationship, but I do know they failed you. You can be angry at me for saying so, but I don’t care.” I hated hearing her make excuses for them. The situation pissed me off.
“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry with myself. I let them change me. Don’t let anyone change you, River.”
Trying to lighten up the moment, I made a suggestion. “Why don’t we get some Arnica cream, and I’ll rub it on your ass? Let’s go.”
Her laugh filled the air. What once seemed heavy now seemed light and airy. “You would rub Arnica on my ass?” She gingerly slid out of the booth and hugged me.
“Of course. You’re my best friend, and it’s how we roll. Besides, I may need you to tweeze the errant hairs that have grown back between my legs.”
Laughter continued to roll from us as we exited the coffee shop arm in arm. It was a well-needed and cathartic release for both of us. Despite my attempt at confidence, this was all so new to me, and I felt out of my depth.
Chapter 9
He said his favorite color was blue. I dressed for him. Would he notice? Would he care? Silver sandals were the perfect pairing for the navy blue dress I wore. My garter belt held the silk thigh highs Erica insisted I own. Twenty pairs came in the Bloomingdales delivery.
The lace undergarments felt soft against my skin. I always thought I bought nice undies. However, I’d never known lace to feel so exquisite. Usually, it itched and chafed my skin, but this lace caressed me.
There was something about having sexy lingerie under my clothes that boosted my confidence. Sex appeal oozed from every pore when I knew everything was the best it could be, from my hair to my underwear.
Visions of Jade’s tear-swollen eyes helped to control my excitement. As I curled my hair and applied my makeup, I told myself repeatedly this wasn’t a date, but a job. It would never be anything but a business transaction. Coating my lashes with a final layer of mascara, I wondered how many times Jade had told herself that before she fell in love?
I quickly sent her a message to say I loved her and was here if she needed me.
The buzz of the intercom silenced my thoughts. With a quick glimpse in the mirror, I gave myself a once-over before I answered the call.
“Hello.” My voice sounded tentative and shy. A rumbling in my stomach felt more like a flock of birds than a handful of butterflies. This was it. Tonight, my life would change.
“It’s me. Shall I come up and get you, or should I wait here?” His voice was like velvet sliding across every cell of my body. A lover’s stroke without a touch. That’s what he did to me.
Surprised it wasn’t his driver again, I looked around my messy apartment and answered, “No, I’ll be right down.”
Condoms hung from the edge of my small bag. I tucked them deeply into the clutch. I was packing light. Given what I witnessed at the coffee shop today, an overnight experience wouldn’t be wise for a first encounter. I didn’t know this man. I only knew he made my insides tingle, and it wouldn’t take an entire night to scratch that itch.
The elevator descended slowly, the wall-to-wall mirrors providing a full body view. Erica outdid herself with this dress. The scoop neck made it appear conservative. The back was obscene, but in a high-class vogue way. It was runway beautiful. The V cut down to my butt cr
ack. No bra required. The dress had built in reinforcements so the back could be bare. A silver scarf hung over my arm just in case it got cold.
The ding of the elevator announced my arrival. My heart was running a marathon, my legs felt stuck in glue. When the doors slid open, Jonathan stood in front of me, dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit. He looked like he left the boardroom and came straight here. His eyes widened as I exited the elevator, but it was the roll of his tongue across his plump lower lip that told me he liked what he saw. My confidence soared while my anxiety fled.
“Wow.” One word, and the strip of fabric between my legs was soaked. “Stunning.”
I was so pleased with his response. My skin tingled in anticipation. I couldn’t wait until he saw the back of this dress.
“You’re looking very dapper yourself. I love the vest, and this gold tie is perfect.” My hand brushed up his chest to straighten the knot at his neck. His hand folded around mine. He lifted it and gently rubbed his soft lips across my knuckles, causing a quiver to course through my body.
“Shall we go? Howard is waiting outside.”
His eyes scanned the lobby. I’m not living large by any means. The only redeeming quality to this building was its security. Side by side, we walked to the door. He reached past me to open it and then stood back to let me pass. I swear he growled as I slid in front of him, exposing the back of my body from neck to bottom. Powerful—that’s how I felt in that moment.
Howard stood with the door open. I moved across the back seat and waited for Jonathan to follow. He spoke to Howard for a few minutes before he climbed in and sat next to me. I looked past him and saw Howard on the phone.
“Change of plans; you look entirely too lovely for sushi. How about La Grenouille? It’s close to our hotel.”
Hotel. So, we were going to a hotel. What had I expected? He certainly wasn’t going to bend me over a trash can in the alley and take me from behind. At least I hadn’t considered it going down like that. I suppose anything was possible.
The Dean’s List Page 8