by Eden Bradley
It was chilly inside and she flipped the heat on as she passed the thermostat in the hall. In her room she kicked off her black stiletto heels, placed them on her closet shelf where her shoes were lined up in perfectly ordered rows. She quickly changed into her burgundy velvet robe, a vintage piece she’d found at one of the thrift stores on Haight Street. Hanging up her skirt in the closet, she put her black top into the laundry basket, then padded on slippered feet across the wood-floored hall to the bathroom. There she ran the water to wash her face, then decided she wanted the bar smells out of her hair and turned the shower on instead.
She carefully took off her makeup while the water heated, twisted her long, straight auburn hair up into a clip and stepped into the steaming blast of water.
This was one of the things she loved most about her apartment. Yes, the view of the Palace of Fine Arts only eight blocks away was gorgeous, and she loved the dark, gleaming hardwood floors, the bay window in the living room. She loved the ornate crown moldings in every room, the old black-and-white tile work in the kitchen, but she was absolutely in love with the bathroom. It was enormous and had the best water pressure and endless hot water, something one rarely found in these older buildings. She could stay in the shower forever if she wanted to. She loved the pure decadence of it. Loved the sensation of the water sluicing hot and silky over her skin.
She let her head fall back against the dark green tiles as the shower stall filled with steam and let her mind wander, remembering once more what she’d seen tonight.
Of course, the first image that came to mind was Shaye. His bare torso shadowed in the nightclub lights that defined and illuminated every ridge and plane of muscle. His flashing white teeth. His lips on her hand.
His soft, soft lips.
She shivered.
That brief, hot kiss on her palm had been one of the most erotic moments of her life.
Her body went warm and loose all over. She pictured the way Shaye had looked when he was working that girl with the paddle, the muscles of his back rippling, the tattooed armbands gripping his flexing biceps, and her pussy pooled with molten heat. No, if she were being truthful, what really did it for her was imagining that she was the one he was doing it to. That it was her stripped nearly naked and on display for all those people. That it was her flesh being smacked with the paddle. By him.
She let out a groan and her hand smoothed down her body, sliding over her breasts, over the hard peaks of her nipples, finally coming to rest between her thighs. There she rubbed her fingers teasingly over the lips of her sex, deliberately avoiding her tender, aching clit.
In her mind it was Shaye’s hand there, sliding over her mound while the hot needles of water pelted her skin. She turned her body into the spray with a small moan. The wet heat fell on her breasts, slipped down her body, just as his hands would.
Shaye.
Her fantasy became more elaborate as she used her fingers to part her swollen pussy lips, to explore the waiting, expectant heat between them. In her mind she was with Shaye in the Ring, with the flashing lights, the music pouring through the place, making her body vibrate with the beat. All around was the crowd, wild with anticipation. He led her to one of those long chains hanging from the ceiling, stretched her arms high above her head, cuffed her wrists firmly, then ripped her clothes from her, the fabric tearing, until she was naked before the crowd. Before him.
She let her fingers brush her clitoris. Pleasure hummed through her.
He would touch her there, would use his hands on her, running them over her bare skin, caressing her breasts.
With her other hand she cupped one breast, slid the palm up over her nipple, squeezed gently with her fingers, then harder. He wouldn’t be gentle, would he? He would hold her breasts in his big hands, squeeze and knead them. Pinch her nipples.
Yes…
She pinched, hard, and cried out at the hot jolt of pleasure.
More. Now.
She spread her legs apart and pushed two fingers inside in one sharp thrust.
“Oh, yes,” she gasped.
She’d never been so wet, so stricken with desire. She needed to come so badly it was almost painful.
She let her body rest against the tiles behind her, the cold surface a jarringly erotic contrast to the heat of the water, the heat of her fingers still working her pussy. In her mind he was behind her as she stood, her arms suspended over her head. Helpless. And he was shirtless, as he’d been tonight, pressing his muscular body up against her back, reaching around and moving his hand between her thighs, massaging her clit.
Yes…
She trembled on the verge of orgasm, tugging and pulling at her clit, trying to remember the scent of him while she moved her fingers inside herself, pumping. Her pussy was on fire, sensations thrumming through her body while her mind whirled with flashes of Shaye, the Ring, the evil little whips she’d seen there.
It all became a blur of image and sensation as the first surge of her climax washed over her. She rubbed hard at her clit, driving her orgasm on. Her sex clenched and spasmed around the fingers of her other hand, still thrusting inside her. And still she came, wave after wave crashing over her in a powerful tide.
Finally it was over, and she was left shaken and weak, leaning into the wall of the shower. Steam rose all around her in ghostly wisps. Her skin was burning hot from the water, from the fierce climax that had just ripped through her.
She couldn’t get his face out of her mind.
Shaye.
She stayed beneath the pounding spray of water for a long while, trying to catch her breath. What was it about him? What was it that had her fantasizing about being naked on display in public, being hit with a paddle? Being dominated by him. She’d never had these thoughts before. Not really. Not with her starring in the bottom role, certainly. And now it was all she could think about.
Her body was thrumming with need again already, and she thought immediately of the vibrator she kept in her nightstand drawer. It would give her a powerful orgasm—it always did. But never had it delivered anything like the one she’d just experienced, using only her hands and a vivid imagination. Thinking about him.
She turned the water off and stepped from the shower, still trembling. She dried herself with a thick white towel, her skin sensitized, needy.
Yes, she needed the vibrator, and now. She had a feeling it was about to become her new best friend. And if she couldn’t find a way to satisfy her needs, to get Shaye out of her lust-addled head, she may never leave her apartment again.
She grinned wryly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she dropped the towel. Her skin was pink from the heat of the water, her breasts full and round, the nipples dark pink. She brushed one with her fingertips and gasped at the sharp stab of pleasure, watching as her nipples swelled. She glanced up, found her own glossy green gaze, her pupils enormous. Keeping her gaze on her reflection in the mirror, she stroked both nipples.
God, if only it could be him.
She spread her thighs and pushed two fingers inside her aching pussy. She was soaked, needing more. And she couldn’t wait one more minute.
She crossed the hall to her bedroom and climbed into her antique four-poster bed, settled back on the pile of pillows. She turned to pull her pink gel vibrator from its drawer and switched it on, laid back, spread her thighs. Closing her eyes, she thought of him while the vibrator buzzed at the entrance to her sex, as she teased herself, barely allowing the tip to touch her hard clitoris.
“Oh…”she moaned. “Come on, Shaye.”
She forced her legs apart, as wide as they could go, and shoved the big vibe into her soaking wet pussy.
“Ah!”
She was clenching around it immediately, her hips bucking, fucking herself with the big toy. And in moments she was coming, crying out as pleasure roared through her.
“God, Shaye!”
Later, after she’d used the vibrator yet again, while her body lay languid and humming and the Sa
n Francisco fog drifted by her window, she drifted toward sleep, his face still filling her mind.
Her last thought before her eyes fluttered closed was that she should never see him again. He was too tempting. Too dangerous. She wouldn’t see him, wouldn’t go back there again. Wouldn’t call the number on the card.
Or would she?
CHAPTER TWO
She dreamed of a dark, womblike place where water fell in warm cascades all around her, slick on her skin, like tiny fingers touching her, teasing her. A commanding voice in her ear whispered, “Promise me.”
She moved her legs apart to allow the teasing, sensual water to touch her there. It flowed in a silky stream between her thighs. And out of the darkness came a figure.
Shaye.
He was naked, she knew, even though she couldn’t quite make out the details of his body in the dark. She waited for him, holding perfectly still. She knew it was what he wanted—for her to remain as still as possible, to await his command. To await his pleasure.
To await her own.
Her sex pulsed with anticipation.
The phone rang.
She came out of sleep fast, so fast she was too confused to find her cell phone right away. Following the insistent ring, she crawled out of bed and found her cell phone where she’d left it on the dresser the night before.
“Hello?”
“Are you still sleeping? Devin, it’s almost ten.”
“Kimmie?” She found her robe on a chair and slipped into it.
“Yeah, who else? What happened to you last night?” Kimmie asked.
“Nothing. I just…you wandered off and I couldn’t find you.”
“I told you I was going to get a drink at the bar downstairs. Then I met this guy and we danced for a while. When I went back upstairs, you were gone.”
“Sorry, I um…” She shoved her hair out of her face, tried to focus on the conversation.
“How much did you drink last night, Devin?”
“What? Nothing. I didn’t drink. I just slept really hard, I guess. I had this dream…” She searched for her fuzzy pink slippers, found them under the bed, slid her feet into them.
“You are really out of it. So, what did you think of the Ring?”
“It was…interesting.”
“Interesting? I couldn’t have dragged you away to save your life. You were totally fascinated,” Kimmie insisted.
“Okay, so I was fascinated.”
“Don’t be so defensive, Dev. I’m the one who took you there. I’m the last person to judge you for liking it.”
“I know. I’m just kind of having a hard time with how much I liked it. And him.” She groaned.
“Him? Him who?”
“There was this guy there. He was gorgeous. No, it was more than that. Didn’t you see him?”
“The guy with the goatee? Yeah, sure. They’re all hot there—all the people who work in the Ring. They only hire beautiful people.”
“He was different.” She paused. “I talked to him, Kimmie.”
“Did you?”
“He gave me his card. Asked me to come back.”
“Are you going to?”
“What? No. I don’t know.” She pushed her hair from her face, began to pace. “I don’t think it’s my thing, Kimmie. It’s too much for me.”
It felt like a lie. She knew it even as the words slipped out of her mouth.
“Well, if you want me to go with you, let me know.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze on her slippered feet. “Kimmie? Have you ever…you know…been in the Ring? Done those things? I know you’ve gone to watch before.”
“I’ve been there a few times—I’ve been to some other clubs, too—but I’ve never been in the Ring. I’ve thought about it. A lot, to be honest. But I really don’t like the idea of being in public like that. But privately? Yes, I’ve done a few things.”
“Like what?”
“I’ve been tied up, been spanked a few times. Nothing like what goes on there. It’s fun, but I don’t take it all that seriously. Or maybe I’ve never been with a guy who takes it seriously enough. I don’t know.” She paused. “It really got to you last night, didn’t it?”
“Yes, I guess it did. And he really did, this guy. Shaye. The whole experience has me imagining things I’ve never thought of before. Submitting to a man…”
But that wasn’t the truth, was it? She remembered suddenly the story-like fantasies she’d had even as a little girl, games she played in her head while she was in the bath. The most common theme was that she’d been captured by pirates, bound in rope, naked and helpless, then brought to the captain’s quarters.
Helpless. That had been the key to the whole thing, hadn’t it? But she’d never imagined what happened once she was in the captain’s quarters, bound and powerless with a pirate king. Her young mind hadn’t been able to comprehend anything more. But she certainly could now.
Shaye would make an excellent pirate.
Her body began to heat up again, her thighs trembling with tension.
This was ridiculous. She had to pull herself together.
“Still there Dev?”
“What? Yes. Sorry. I was just thinking about everything, about last night. I don’t think I’ll go back. It just doesn’t feel right.”
But why, really, was she fighting it? Every cell in her body screamed for her to go to him. To Shaye. She was lying to Kimmie. Lying to herself.
“Kimmie, you know my history, what I went through with my mom. Why I could never let a man dominate me, even if it was just play. Just sex.”
“I know, and I get it, Dev. You’re the only one who can decide what’s right for you. But if you ever choose to let all that old stuff go—and yes, I think at some point you should, and I’m done being nosey now—then you know where to go. And that guy, Shaye, is hot. Smokin’.”
“Yeah, he is,” she agreed, his crooked, devastating grin and tight six-pack abs flashed through her mind.
“Look, I’d better get back to work. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. A little distracted.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later, then?”
“Yes. Sure. Thanks, Kimmie.”
“Any time, hon.”
She ended the call and let out a long breath. She hadn’t wanted to admit to Kimmie how Shaye had affected her, but she was her best friend—they talked about everything. And there was no hiding the effect he had on her.
Shaye.
Just running his name through her mind had her body humming to life again, hot and needy, her sex drive working at warp speed. She didn’t like the loss of control over her own body, her own thoughts. Yet at the same time something in the back of her mind whispered for her to just let go for once.
Letting go was not her forte. She was someone who ran a perfectly ordered life, with everything in its place. A life in stark contrast to the one she had growing up. All she’d known was a life of chaos until she was old enough to take on all of the responsibilities that should have been her mother’s. A life that had created in her a driving need to maintain control, to fight against the chaos.
It was one of the reasons she loved her work as a web designer—she had total control over what happened on the page. She loved the clearly defined language of the computer, the software she used to create her designs. She knew if she clicked on something, wrote the correct sequence of code, she could control the outcome every time. She knew what to expect, everything nice and neat. This obsession was messy. Complicated. And giving in to it would mean a very definite loss of control.
She wasn’t about to hand that over to anyone. Not even the beautiful and mysterious Shaye.
Her body surged with lust once more.
Damn it.
How was she going to force herself to stay away from him? She hated that she didn’t have a concrete answer, couldn’t assure herself of the outcome.
Mysterious, yes. A little frightening. And so incredibly tempting she
could barely stand it. Her mind whirled with the possibilities.
She’d just met the man. Once. Why was it she couldn’t stop thinking about him? About the lovely, wicked things he wanted to do to her? But how could she ever let him? This was crazy. This was not who she was. She’d never been more confused in her life.
Shaye Vincent, in their one brief meeting, had knocked her whole world off its axis. And right now she wasn’t sure how she’d ever regain her balance.
* * *
She usually took Saturdays off, but Devin had turned to work as a desperate means of escape from the images and ideas battering at her. Still, her mind kept wandering from her computer screen. She’d been sitting there for more than two hours, yet all she could see was his face, those dark hazel eyes, that sexy, crooked grin, and the glossy sheen of sweat over the ripple of muscles…
She sighed. She was never going to get any work done this way. She saved her project, closed her graphics program, then closed her Mac. She didn’t know what to do with herself. Her sex was throbbing with heat and she felt too restless to stay in her apartment all day, but she wasn’t in the mood to call Kimmie or any of her other friends. She knew she wasn’t in a normal frame of mind and didn’t want to have to explain herself to anyone.
Better to get out, walk it off.
Throwing a heavy sweater on over her T-shirt and jeans, she grabbed her purse and headed downstairs and out into the cool afternoon air. She took off in the direction of Chestnut Street, a few blocks away. She’d find a cup of coffee and walk with it, maybe head down to the Palace of Fine Arts at the end of the street. She’d always found the serene pond and the beautiful neo-Roman structure designed for the 1915 Panama-Pacific Exposition to be a peaceful place. She often went there to think, to work out design issues in her head while strolling around the park-like setting or feeding bread crumbs to the ducks and swans.
She found her favorite coffee spot and ordered a latte to go. The street was already crowded with traffic, locals and tourists thronging the sidewalks. She paused to glance into the shop windows, letting the crowds flow around her. The Marina district was famous for its colorful boutiques and cafés, but she found she couldn’t concentrate on the clothes and books and shoes in the windows. His face was still foremost in her mind. His gorgeous face, along with other fleeting thoughts she tried to push away…Wondering what his hands would feel like on her skin, what it might be like to let him spank her with that black paddle…