Locked

by Maya Cross

  "I guess," I said again.

  "And if it turns out he did take advantage of you, then yea he's an asshole, but worrying isn't going to change anything. Think of it this way; there are far worse things than one night stands with handsome foreign gentlemen who are great in bed."

  I laughed. Ruth certainly knew how to put things in perspective.

  I tried my best to take her advice to heart, but as more time passed, my restlessness grew. What was the threshold for when that sort of behaviour became unacceptable? Two weeks? A month? I had no idea. It felt like he'd gone to a lot of trouble just to sleep with me once and then drop me, but the evidence was growing increasingly hard to ignore.

  Then one day nearly three weeks later, when I'd basically given up hope of ever seeing him again, I returned from a lunch meeting to find my office door open. Sebastian was leaning casually against my desk, suited, chiselled, and looking as dapper as ever.

  "Seriously?" I hissed. Under other circumstances I might have reacted more calmly, but the way he stood there, smiling like his presence was totally normal, made my blood run hot.

  "Still haven't got those greetings down pat yet, have you?" he replied, looking bemused at my dark expression.

  "That's really the best you can do?"

  "I'm not sure what else you were hoping for."

  I strode into the room, slamming the door behind me. "I don't hear anything from you for three weeks, then you think it's okay to just show up at my office when the mood finally strikes you?"

  His jaw tightened. "I didn't realise I owed you minute by minute updates of everything I did."

  "You don't. You don't owe me anything. I guess I just hoped you might want to check in on me. A text message every once in a while isn't a big ask."

  "It's not that I don't want to. I've just been busy." He began pacing. "I thought we understood one another, Sophia."

  "So did I, but apparently I didn't make myself clear. That one dinner doesn't give you license to just ignore me until you feel like getting laid again."

  "That's not how it is."

  "Well that's how it seems to me."

  He exhaled slowly. "I thought you were okay with keeping things simple."

  "Simple is fine. Simple is great. I don't need romantic dates or bloody hand crafted mix tapes, but I do need to feel like I'm more than just a walking vagina that operates at your beck and call."

  He studied me for several seconds, his expression growing concerned. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way," he said in a soft voice.

  I felt some of my rage draining away. He looked genuinely distressed at having hurt me, although that didn't change the fact that he had. Part of me wanted to just end it then and there. For a casual relationship, it was already proving to be more emotionally taxing than I was prepared for, and with work ramping up, I couldn't afford any distractions.

  But then I heard Ruth's words playing through my head. "This sort of thing doesn't come along all that often." That statement was truer than she'd realised. The chemistry between Sebastian and I was unlike anything I'd experienced before. It was practically nuclear. And he'd promised that there was so much more to learn.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, collecting my thoughts. "Look Sebastian, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess most women you sleep with don't have a problem with this sort of arrangement. I bet they're pretty happy to take whatever you give them. But I'm not like that. I can't just be another pretty ornament."

  "I never considered you to be," he replied, his expression earnest.

  "Then start showing it. I'm happy to keep this relationship simple, but simple doesn't mean totally one dimensional. If we're going to continue, I need to feel like you're putting in at least a little effort. It doesn't have to be much, a quick bite to eat once every few weeks, a phone call or message now and then. If that's too much to ask, well, I'm sure you can find what you're looking for elsewhere."

  He contemplated this. It didn't seem like I was asking much, but apparently it wasn't an easy decision.

  "If that's what you need to feel comfortable, I'll do my best," he said eventually. "But in return, you have to understand that there are times I might not be able to contact you. I seek these sorts of relationships for a reason. It's true, I tend to keep my distance out of habit, even when I don't need to, but the fact remains that my schedule is incredibly unpredictable. I could be called to fly overseas tonight, and even when I am here, I'm often so busy I barely have time to eat or sleep."

  I nodded. "I can sympathise with that." His words seemed fair. I knew the toll work could take on a person's personal relationships. Suddenly, I felt embarrassed at the way I'd reacted. He was just like me in a lot of ways; career driven and focused, almost to a fault. I could hardly hold that against him.

  "I'm sorry too," I continued. "Maybe I overreacted. I'm not good at this stuff. I'm willing to compromise if you are."

  "Sounds good to me," he said.

  "Excellent." I still felt a little uneasy, but I'd said my piece and he seemed to have taken it to heart. I couldn't ask for more than that. "So why did you decide to pop in anyway? I assume it wasn't to get told off."

  He smiled. "Actually I brought you something."

  "Oh? Trying to bribe your way out of trouble then?"

  "Not really. It's more of a return than a gift." He reached into his bag and pulled out the shoes I'd left on his office floor that first night we'd met. "I believe you were a little too preoccupied to take them with you the other week."

  I couldn't help but laugh. So now he brings them.

  "Am I missing something?" he asked.

  "Oh it's nothing," I said, suddenly aware of how childish the story seemed.

  "No, go on."

  I sighed. "It's stupid really. Remember when I said I'd explain my safe word?" He nodded. "Well, when I was running away that first night, it occurred to me that the situation bore some passing similarity to Cinderella. You know, shoes left behind at the ball and all that."

  He seemed to find this incredibly amusing. "I'm a little rusty with my fairy tales, but I don't remember Cinderella being quite as sordid as that particular evening."

  "You mustn't have been reading the right version."

  "Apparently not." He grinned. "Well, that does explain why you were in such a hurry to leave. And here I was thinking you were embarrassed."

  I shook my head. "Nope. I just had to escape before pumpkin o'clock."

  Sliding closer, he wrapped his arms around my hips, locking my body against his. "So if you're Cinderella, that makes me Prince Charming then?"

  Whatever lingering frustration I'd felt instantly melted away. "I guess so," I said, my voice suddenly fluttering. How the hell does he keep doing that to me?

  "Well then, I believe that means that since I've returned your lost slippers, we're meant to kiss now."

  I knew I should probably stop him. Someone could walk in at any moment. But as usual, I seemed to have no willpower where he was concerned. Craning his neck, he brought his mouth down to meet mine. The kiss was somehow firm and hungry, yet impossibly soft, and the warmth of it flowed through me. As our bodies rocked back against my desk, he reached up and ran one hand roughly through my hair, driving us together, as though someone might steal me away at any moment.

  Some indeterminable time later, he broke away. "I do believe I should bring you things more often," he said with a smile.

  "I'm not sure I'd ever get much done if you did." Glancing and the clock I winced. "Speaking of getting things done, you should probably go. As much as I don't want to go back to this stuff, it'll just be there tomorrow if I don't do it today."

  I slipped out from under his arms and reached to open the door, but he followed behind me, catching my wrist in his hand and sliding up against me until my body was pressed into the wood. Trapped again.

  "I'm sorry we don't have more time," he said, drawing his free hand softly down my hip. "I do like the idea of fucking you right here." />
  I could feel his excitement jutting into my lower back like hot metal. Just a few inches lower and... Jesus Sophia, you're at work for fuck's sake.

  "This is my office, Sebastian," I said, trying to sound disapproving. I didn't do a very good job.

  Dropping his head down he brushed his lips gently across the curve of my neck. "Well, I guess that wouldn't be proper," he whispered. "We'll just have to wait. Are you free tomorrow night?"

  "I think so."

  "Good. Then come to the Royal Bay hotel, room four hundred, at eight o'clock."

  "Why?"

  "You said you wanted to start learning more about what it is to submit, so tomorrow I'm going to show you. I think you'll find the experience... eye opening." Releasing me, he took a step back and opened the door himself. "Until then, Sophia." And before I could muster a reply, he was gone.

  I stood for a few moments trying to collect myself, his final words still ringing in my ears. Last time we'd been together, in the heat of the moment, I'd said that maybe I wanted to be shown something more, but now he'd called me on it. Well what the hell did you think he'd do, missionary with the lights off forever?

  In spite of what his dominance did to me, I still had my doubts. There was a big difference between a bit of playful restraint and the sorts of things he enjoyed. Was I really one of those girls?

  Apparently I was about to find out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The next morning I took a long shower and then ventured outside to find breakfast, looking forward to doing not much of anything. At the start of the year, I promised myself I'd take one Sunday a month off from work entirely. When you work for a big law firm, it's easy to lose all sense of balance. One day a month doesn't sound like much, but it's enough to feel like you've still got some semblance of control over your life.

  I brought a book along with me. I used to love to read in high school, but with free time an ever shrinking commodity, my 'to read' pile kept growing faster than I could get through it. Those Sundays were about the only time I ever made any progress.

  I leafed through a few pages, trying my best to concentrate, but my mind kept wandering back to Sebastian. It annoyed me. I wasn't the sort of girl who pined after men. For me, sex had always been just another fun way to pass the time. Except with Sebastian, it was something more.

  I wasn't sure whether to be afraid or excited about the coming evening. He'd given me almost no clues about what to expect.

  Almost.

  That morning, I'd received a text message.

  I want you to bring something with you tonight. A length of red ribbon, about three feet long.

  I didn't know why he couldn't simply bring it himself, but at least I had some vague idea of what lay in store. As far as I could see, a ribbon could only be to bind me, so I knew I'd likely be restrained, but beyond that I was still in the dark. I suspected that was part of the experience. On the plus side, I now had his number.

  I finished my breakfast, stubbornly forcing my way through a few chapters, before throwing in the towel. It was time to go shopping.

  There was a fabric store just a few blocks from my place. It was a little strange to be hunting for something so kinky in such a mundane location. Sebastian had turned a simple act of shopping into something decidedly more sordid. As I walked the aisles, I found myself staring at the ground, trying my best not to meet the eyes of the other customers. It didn't help that the store seemed to be entirely populated by little old ladies. There was no way they could know why I was really there, but nonetheless, after I paid, I hustled out of the store as quickly as possible, burying the ribbon in the bottom of my bag.

  The rest of the day passed at a snail's pace. I tried to enjoy my time off by catching up on some television I'd DVR'd, but I found it difficult to concentrate. I was nervous and buzzing with energy.

  Seven thirty rolled around, and after finding nothing that screamed 'kinky hotel rendezvous' in my wardrobe, I threw on the closest thing I had — a bright red cocktail dress that flared at the bottom — and headed for Circular Quay once more. I was probably going to be early, but I got the impression that tardiness would not go down well tonight.

  The hotel was only a minute's walk from the restaurant we'd been at a few weeks back. A girl could get used to this kind of living, I thought, as I walked along the wharf.

  There was a storm rolling in from the south. The sky looked angry, bruised purple and swollen with rain; sea spray rode on the whipping wind. People seemed to have wisely taken the hint and stayed inside. Aside from a few gallant restaurant patrons, the area was largely empty.

  The Royal Bay was a deceptively simple looking building. Unlike most city hotels, it was only a few stories tall, and the warm glow that trickled from the windows lent it a homely feel. But sitting on the docks, just meters from the water, it was definitely a step up from the Holiday Inn.

  "Hi," I said to the elegant middle aged woman behind the reception desk, "I'm here to meet a friend of mine. He said to come to room 400."

  Her smile wavered for the briefest instant before returning to full strength. Shit. It hadn't occurred to me before, but sexed up like I was and visiting an unnamed male guest in his room alone, I realised what I looked like. Yep, lawyer by day, high class hooker by night. That's me. I could have laughed if I wasn't so mortified.

  "Of course, just take the lift over there up to the fourth floor. It's the first door on your right."

  "Great, thanks," I said, doing my best to keep my expression neutral. Trying to correct her seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

  As the lift gradually ticked its way upwards, my nerves continued to build. In the past, my sexual encounters had always been vaguely predictable. Even when the relationship was new, I had some idea what to expect. It was still exciting, but there was a comfort in that familiarity. With Sebastian, however, I was going in blind. The whole thing was a mystery.

  With my heart thumping, I made my way slowly down the corridor until I found the room. Taking a deep breath, I knocked twice. There was no response. I tried again with the same result. Had I gotten mixed up somehow? I was fairly sure I had the details right, but Sebastian didn't strike me as the flaky sort. Not knowing what else to do, I reached out tentatively and tugged on the heavy brass handle. The door fell open without a sound.

  At first I thought I was in the wrong place. The lights were dim and the room appeared to be empty. I made my way inside, glancing around nervously like a girl in a horror film, but Sebastian was nowhere in sight.

  The room was stunning. Decked in soft creams and whites, it offered the kind of open space most hotel guests could only dream of. In front of the giant king sized bed was a rolling window that opened directly on to a balcony, offering me a perfect panoramic view of the harbour. I gazed out for several seconds, watching a lightning bolt sear the sky a blinding white. The storm was drawing closer.

  It wasn't until I spotted the envelope that I realised I hadn't messed up. It was resting on a chair in the middle of the room. Oh so that's how we're playing is it? A thrill surged through me as I approached.

  There was something else sitting beside it; a strip of dark silk about as long as my arm. I picked it up, running its softness through my fingers and trying to imagine what it was for. More restraints? Or something more sensual?

  The whole situation had a clandestine flavour to it. The dark room, the mysterious props, the secret instructions, they all made me feel incredibly naughty; like I was doing something much more illicit than simply having sex.

  Written on the front of the envelope was a single word. 'Sophia'. There was something about the way he said my name that carried more weight than normal. I found myself hearing the word in his voice as I read it.

  Inside was a simple set of instructions:

  Sophia.

  I'm happy you could join me. I think you will find tonight's activities most enlightening. To prepare, I want you to strip down to your panties. I trust you've discovered
the blindfold I left for you. Once you're undressed, stand in the middle of the room. Place the ribbon I asked for on the bed next to you and then cover your eyes with the scarf. Wait like that until I come for you.

  -S

  I picked up the silk gingerly and held it up to the light. It was completely opaque. Once it was secured in place, I'd be utterly blind. He'd be able to do whatever he wanted and I wouldn't even see it coming. The thought made me tremble.

  For the hundredth time I considered calling it off. He'd promised to leave me alone if that was what I wanted. All I had to do was turn around and walk out of the door and everything would return to normal.

  Except I knew that wasn't really true.

  The fire that had been lit inside me wouldn't just disappear. As frightening as the thought of presenting myself for him - exposed, blind and helpless - was, the alternative was even more so. For better or for worse, I had to know.

  I began to strip off, folding my clothes neatly on the bed, before pulling the ribbon from my purse. Just looking at it again made me blush. Mindful of my skin, I'd bought the softest, lightest weave I could find. I played with it for a few seconds, winding it around my wrists, trying to imagine what it would feel like to be bound with it, before placing it on the bed too.

  I fidgeted for a few more moments, ensuring everything was in order, but eventually I knew I was just making excuses. Christ, here goes nothing. Picking up the blindfold, I gazed at the room one final time, before slipping it over my head and knotting it at the back. Everything went black.

  My pulse instantly quickened. Stripping off my clothes was something I did every day. It hadn't felt unusual. But the second I covered my eyes, I'd crossed a line into the unknown. Anything could happen now.

  We'd begun.

  I wasn't sure how long I stood there. Unable to see, time seemed to slow down. Every tiny hotel noise made me jump, and my mind was racing at a million miles a minute. Was he even coming at all? Maybe this was a test of some sort, to see how long I'd stay put. And if he did show, could I ask him to remove the blindfold? It really was terrifying, but that might be against the rules. I didn't even know what the rules were. Was I allowed to object? Oh Christ, what the hell was I doing?