by Kailin Gow
My heart clenched again, but this time it was painful. He was playing with my life, toying with it as if it were some insignificant plaything. My reputation would be in shambles if word of this got out. Even if it was proven that I’d had nothing to do with Michael’s death, the stain would remain for a long time.
Pacing the living room, I tried to get my breathing under control because I felt like I was going to explode at any moment. I was angry, hurt, afraid and even more angry. “I don’t appreciate the mocking tone you're using, Mr. Townshend. This isn’t exactly a laughing matter.”
“Forgive me if I gave you the impression I was mocking you. That’s not my intention, believe me. I simply want to bring to mind what brought you to room 411 to begin with. I wouldn’t want you to be blinded by the luxurious apartment and pretty clothes to the point of forgetting why you’re there to begin with. We have an agreement, remember?”
“An agreement?”
“Forgotten so soon? Tsk, tsk. As a lawyer you’ll need to pay more attention to what you say. You agreed to stay in room 411 for two entire days… that is until this murder investigation was over.”
“Clearly I was under duress when I agreed.” Storming back to the bedroom I threw my purse onto the bed and let out a loud huff of frustration. I hated this lack of control.
“Duress? Nice try, Miss Turner, but I was hardly forceful with you. I simply explained the situation as it stands and gave you a means of clearing yourself.”
“Well, I’m beginning to think you can’t help me with that anyway… you and all these silly games. Sending me here, and all the pretty clothes and… you said I’d find instructions, but there’s nothing here.” I grabbed the tie off the bed. “I found a custom made tie with the initials P.T. embroidered inside. I take it it’s yours.”
“Did the clothes fit you?”
“Perfectly, but that’s beside the point.”
“And I take it they’re to your liking.”
My jaw tightened. I didn’t want to let him know how impressed I was with the wardrobe he’d selected for me, but it was flawless. He had impeccable taste, but I was certain he knew that already. “Like I said, you have good taste. I probably would have chosen all the clothes in that closet had I the money.”
“It’s no accident the dresses fit you so perfectly. Most of the pieces were made specifically for you while others were tailored to precise specification.”
I cocked an impressed brow. “I haven’t the faintest idea why you would go to so much trouble… maybe you have a little too much time on your hands, but the matter that concerns me now is this tie. Is it yours?”
“Aren’t you a little curious to know how I came to know your measurements so well? The size of your breasts, the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, the wealth of your perfectly round and firm ass.”
I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to know the answer to that one. Of course the question was burning at the back of my mind, but I knew his answer would be more playful than informative. “Tell me about the tie, Mr. Townshend. It’s a rather peculiar tie. It’s so much longer than a regular necktie. It’s also broader. And I believe it’s yours. Why do you refuse to answer me?”
“Don’t trust those embroidered initials, Miss Turner. Looks can be deceiving sometimes.”
“So, it’s not your tie?”
“It’s the designer’s logo. Disappointed?”
“Just a little surprised, I guess. I mean, what are the chances that you send me to an apartment, furnish me with a glamorous wardrobe and just happen to find a strange looking tie that just so happens to have your initials embroidered on it, but it doesn’t actually belong to you? What are the chances?”
“Life is full of amusing coincidences sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Then if the tie isn’t yours, what is it doing here amidst these beautiful clothes meant for me. Surely you don’t expect me to wear it.”
“Wear it? No, not exactly.” The register of his voice fell to a deep and lusty level that practically drooled with sexuality.
“What exactly, then?” I bit my lip as I anticipated the answer.
“Although, when tied properly, it fits like a regular tie, this one is actually meant to serve a higher purpose. This tie becomes an instrument of pleasure; your pleasure, Miss Turner.”
I gasped, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. This was just the sort of thing such a mysterious man would do, though I couldn’t imagine why he would leave it in my closet. Was he aware just how deserted my sex life was?
“Speechless?”
“Hardly,” I said, quickly getting over the significance of the strange tie.
“Tell me,” he said with a low and luscious voice that was driving me crazy. “Is the tie strong?”
“As much as a tie can be strong.” The sensation of the tie in my hand suddenly took on a whole new meaning. If I wrapped my fingers around it, it was strong, almost hard.
“Is it flexible?”
“Of course.”
“Is it firm?”
“Firm?” I fingered the fabric again and it suddenly wasn’t a tie at all. My mind had completely side tracked and was envisioning horribly delicious and delectable things; things I shouldn’t be thinking of at the moment. Things I shouldn’t be thinking while on the phone with this strange man.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Firm, yet soft.”
“I guess.”
“Pull on it. Does it stretch? Does it give a bit, all while still being able to hold a knot?”
“It looks like it might.”
“Why not try it?”
“What do you mean?”
“For a smart, soon to be lawyer, you’re acting a little innocent and naïve, aren’t you?”
“Hardly,” I said, suddenly feeling a little defensive.
“You're wearing a dress, right?”
“Yes.”
“Run the tie around your calves.”
Intrigue not only by his orders, but the tone in which he gave them, I obeyed. The silk was soft and smooth against my skin.
“Run it up to your thighs and pull it between your legs.”
I sat on the very edge of the bed and pulled the silk tie between my thighs. The soft fabric rode between my legs with tantalizing friction.
“Is it soft?”
“Yes.”
“Arousing?”
I didn’t answer.
“Tug it up higher on your thigh.”
I hesitated for just a moment as I realized where he was going with his commands. A part of me didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of arousing me, but the other part of me was very curious about my own satisfaction. Would a simple tie do the trick?
Tugging the tie up higher on my thigh, the soft, silky fabric rubbed lightly against my panties and brought an interesting thrill to my clitoris.
“Good?”
Unable to verbally answer him, I simply nodded.
“I’ll take that silence for a yes. Now, put your phone on speaker, and set it down.”
The soft control of his voice added to my arousal as I followed his directions.
“Go a little faster. Pull the tie up between your legs just a little bit harder.”
The added pressure caused me to gasp. I was horny, a lot hornier than I had thought. I guess these months of studying had left me in need, and I’d been ignoring that need.
“Do you feel how good that is?”
I couldn’t answer him, but it did. It felt so good. I groaned, deep in my throat as the pleasure rose, and all that mattered was the sound of his voice and the sensation of the tie against my panties, now wet with my arousal.
“I like the sound of that,” he said. He sounded just as aroused as I was. “I’m glad to hear that you're not only following my orders, but enjoying it as well. That groan was full of… promise.”
Knowing that he was pleased, that he was aroused, fueled me. I wanted to please him. I wanted to turn him on. I wanted to promise him more.
“Yes,” I said in a breathy voice. I was surprisingly close
“You sound like you're just on the edge. Don’t you just love that moment, that moment of heightened pleasure, just before it all explodes… when you hover, weightlessly, for that precious moment and all that matters is the climax to come?”
“Yes.” The word was barely audible on my breath.
“I only wish I could see the rapture of this moment on your beautiful face. I want to see your face contort in pleasure, twist in ecstasy, relax with satisfaction.”
I could only breathe as I closed my eyes and tugged harder on the tie.
“Ah,” I shouted. I was so close, I was right there, hovering, just like he’d said, delighting in that moment of levity just before…
“Not yet, Laura. Not yet.”
“Oh, my God. You can’t be serious. Please,” I pleaded, but I forced my hands to slow down.
“I want to hear you a moment longer. I want us to enjoy this exquisite pleasure just a moment longer.”
“Oh, please. Let me…”
“Not yet.”
“Oh, shit.”
“No.”
“Ah, God.”
“Laura?”
“Peter!”
“Be a good girl,” he whispered. His voice was a kiss all over my body, a kiss in the dark, on the most delicious part of my body, hot and hungry.
“Yes.” It was just there, so tantalizing and so explosive. And the more he made me wait, the more explosive it would be. Something about Peter broke all of my reserve and control. Something…
“You're a good girl.”
“Yes!”
“Now, my sweet Laura!”
“Ah, yes.”
“Come now.”
“Oh, my God!” I screamed as I fell back onto the bed and tugged the tie up into my crotch where my clitoris throbbed against it.
“Let me hear you.”
“Ah, Peter.” Catching my breath was almost impossible. My orgasm was so strong, so shattering. I clutched the tie with white knuckles, unwilling to let go of the precious garment. Staring blindly at the ceiling, I rejoiced in the slow ebb of my orgasm, thrilling with every last throb until it completely subsided leaving me only with one hell of a fantastic memory of this moment. What had just happened?
“That was an impressive climax,” he groaned. His husky voice filled my room and I suddenly wished he was there, in the room, with his hands all over me, his lips, his body. “Your passionate cries still ring in my car.”
“Your car?” I whispered through jagged breaths.
“Yes,” he said with a faint chuckle. “I’m very pleased with how you followed my orders so explicitly. You didn’t miss a step. In fact, you’ve even surpassed my expectation.”
I smiled, though I didn’t fully understand why. I liked the notion of pleasing him, but resented the control he had over me.
“I want to come by to see you now. I’ll explain a few things to you. Would that be all right with you?”
All right? Oh my God, I think I’d die if he didn’t come over.
“You’re coming here straight from your office?” I had no idea why I even asked that question. Was I that eager to see him? Or was I afraid he’d be at the apartment before I could make myself presentable? I couldn’t very well open the door for him in this state.
Could I?
All of a sudden it seemed so important I impress him, so much so, I actually felt self-conscious. I wanted to find a sexier dress, redo my hair, put on some perfume. This man with the incredible voice and confident take charge attitude was getting to me, challenging me in ways I haven’t been challenged before.
“No,” he said, shattering my anticipated race to get ready. “I’m just finishing up with a meeting on the other side of town. I left right after you headed for the Clarington and managed to rush the meeting just a bit. That’s how eager I was to call you, to talk to you… to turn you on. I’m going to turn onto the freeway the moment I hang up, so should I be there in about half an hour.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. I guess I was eager to have him there as soon as possible after all, no matter how unpresentable I was.
“Don’t sound so glum. I’ll be there soon enough, my sex vixen. You’ll have just enough time to recover and get warmed up again.”
My mind raced as I tried to find an explanation to my reaction to him, but none came. I just hated that he’d heard the disappointment in my voice. Shaking my head I stared at the phone on the bed beside me and wondered when I’d lost so much control over myself. When had I become such a mass of sexual energy that didn’t care about consequences… and I was sure the consequences would come. He wouldn’t let me forget the orgasm he’d just taken part in.
“In the meantime,” he went on, seemingly cool and unruffled by the heat of the moment, “Why don’t you change panties? I think you're in need of a fresh pair. I personally like the barely there silk ones. Feels like a petal against your skin, yet easy for me to tear off. Why make it complicated?”
A growl resonated from my belly all the way to the phone and was met with a chuckle.
“Don’t get mad at me because you enjoyed it, Laura. It’s perfectly all right that you be so aroused by all this. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
I turned onto my side and looked at the phone. Just as much as I had enjoyed our little interlude, I was upset by it. I wanted to see him and touch him, but I also dreaded his arrival. The power he seemed to already have over me was a little too much and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go where he was leading me.
But my body seemed primed and ready for more… hungry even.
“I realize I didn’t properly stock your kitchen… nothing for an elegant and gourmet meal. How about I take you out for dinner?”
“Sounds good.”
“Hungry?”
“Starved.” I couldn’t even remember what my last morsel of food was.
“Good. I’ve got quite an appetite myself. I’ll see you soon.”
“Just one last thing…” I knew I was being annoying, but I had to know.
“Yes?”
“The tie. Is it yours?”
“What do you think?”
“I think it is. I think your story about it being the designer’s logo is bogus.”
His deep and amused chuckle rumbled through the phone, so hearty and filled with lust, I felt a thrill ride up my thighs. “After the performance you just gave,” he whispered, “I wish it was, Miss Turner. I truly wish it was.”
Chapter 5
After a quick shower, I pulled my hair back into a quick and easy bun, slipped into the body hugging red dress and found the perfect red lipstick to complete the elegant yet sexy look. All that and I still had ten minutes to kill before Peter Townshend arrived.
Peter Townshend… just the thought of his name sent a shiver through me. Was it the mystery that surrounded the man that had me captivated, or the orgasm he just gave me?
I was excited and anxious, and I went back to the mirror a dozen times to make sure everything was okay. Two soft curls had escaped the bun and brushed delicately against my skin. The dress was tight enough to show off my body, but not so low cut as to scream my growing need for a sexual encounter with this mysterious man.
Just as the doorbell rang, I slipped into a pair of four inch stilettos and hurried to the door.
Curiosity was high as I reached for the doorknob. What would he look like? Was he tall? Was he strongly built? Was he as handsome as his secretary had said? What if he wasn’t?
At this point it hardly mattered. I wanted him. That sexy voice had been driving me crazy from the start and I longed to have him kiss me, touch me… make love to me. It’d been so long… far too long since I’d been with a man, and longer still since I’d been with such an exciting man. My body was thirsty for something good, and strong and compelling, and he was all that.
Yes. I tu
rned the doorknob. I want whatever he has to offer. “You're early,” I said with a teasing smile as I pulled open the door, ready to seduce the enigmatic Peter Townshend.
“Oh, my God. You're expecting someone,” Camille said. Visibly upset, she glanced back at her apartment door and back at me.
“Camille. What’s going on?”
“Look at you. You're obviously waiting for a date.” She turned to walk away. “I… I won’t bother you with my problems. I got myself into this mess and I’ll get myself out.”
I took a step into the hall, grabbed her wrist and pulled her into my apartment. “My date isn’t due for another ten minutes. What’s going on? What happened?”
Camille looked at me with fear in her big brown eyes. I saw in her the same fear and vulnerability I’d seen in Serena all those years ago. Obviously something had gone wrong with the night she’d planned. I guided her to the sofa and headed to the kitchen to pour her a glass of water. I also grabbed the box of paper tissue set atop the refrigerator.
As I sat in the lounge chair facing her, I set the glass down on the coffee table.
“Thanks,” she whispered and took a delicate sip.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened? Your date upset you, didn’t he?”
Camille threw her face into her hands and cried, her shoulders shaking from the force of her sobs.
“Franklin.”
“That’s your date?” I pulled a tissue from the box and handed it to her.
She nodded and dabbed the tissue to the corner of her eyes. “He’s such a smart guy… well educated, well mannered, well dressed. He comes from a really good family. His father is the CEO of some big, multi-million dollar company and his mother is a major share holder of a cosmetic company.” Shaking her head, she stared straight ahead. “Right from the start, he said all the right things… all the things I wanted to hear. He was so sweet and so considerate. It was like he knew what I wanted before I could tell him. Oh, and Laura, he’s just so damned handsome, so impossibly good looking. He’s really the kind of man I barely dared allow myself to dream of meeting one day, and there he was, in my apartment, wanting me.”