Unbound (The Braille Club #2)

by J. A. Kerr

  He sat transfixed as her hands slowly cupped them and she sighed aloud. The sexual tension between them crackled in the air. Anna put her fingers in her mouth. She rubbed them around first one nipple, then the other, before buttoning up her blouse and tucking it neatly into her skirt. Her hardened, wet nipples clung suggestively to the fabric.

  Closing her suit jacket, she zipped it up and then smoothed her skirt. It was over in minutes and still Guy remained silent. She approached him, coming around his desk, and dropped her hand into his lap and squeezed.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” She laughed.

  Fully aroused, his body jerked at the contact, but she was back around the desk before he had time to move. Breathing heavily, he stood, his eyes hooded.

  “Impressive.” Anna nodded at his crotch. “You better sit down.” She eyed the office door. “Does it lock?”

  He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  “Good, this won’t take long,” she breathed and quickly turned the lock. As she walked towards him, she started to inch up her raspberry skirt until he could see the top of her silk stockings. His heart hammered in his chest as his body twitched in response; God, he wanted her. She came around the desk and pushed him back in his seat. Sitting directly in front of him, she pulled her skirt higher and opened her legs. He gasped at her nakedness but this time he didn’t hesitate. Undoing his trousers, he thrust into her, hard. Again she was so wet, he cried out in surprise, and her hand pressed over his mouth. The fear of interruption and discovery made the sex explosive as he hammered into her, his climax shuddering through him minutes later.

  Anna pushed him off roughly, pulling a small packet of wet wipes from her pocket. She gave him some, and he felt awkward as he turned away to clean himself before throwing the wipes in the bin. His brain was scrambled and he noticed absently his hands were shaking.

  “Clean me,” she demanded.

  He groaned, glancing at the door. Had they been heard? Intoxicated, he took the wipes. He looked into Anna’s eyes, and she stared boldly back as he cleaned her. It was the most erotic thing he had ever done. He couldn’t help himself as he slipped his thumb inside. Anna neither reacted nor flinched.

  His eyes never left hers as his hands stroked her. It took some time to find the sensitive areas that mattered to her, but when he did he saw her pupils dilate. It was all he needed; he worked her until they were both panting and she was dripping wet. He turned her around and pushed her over his desk. With all reason gone, the sight of her tight cream buttocks had him slamming into her, this time he was more in control but still he climaxed quickly. He withdrew, pulling her skirt down quickly as some instinct told him someone was approaching. Rearranging his clothes, he sprang to the door, unlocking it just as the handle turned.

  His colleague pushed it open and paused, sniffing the air. “Oh sorry, Guy, I didn’t realise you had a meeting,” he said, hesitating.

  “No problem, Gary, I was just showing Anna out…what do you need?”

  Anna blinked as he dismissed her, and by the look on her face she didn’t like it one bit.

  Chapter 6

  The Braille Club, London, One Year On: The Braille Key would also evolve to replace the membership card. It would be used throughout Harrison’s, eliminating the need for Braille members to keep their keys hidden. All member profiles were now stored on their keys. Multi-functional, they opened lockers and automatically recorded gym workouts. They stored credits for in-club transactions and allowed members access to pre-booked classes. There was only one small difference: Braille members had their own unique key ring concealed inside the key itself. Only their thumbprint could unlock the cover, which slid back to reveal the buckle design and ribbon unchanged. Like any classic, it was simple but timeless.

  London 2014

  Niven

  When Niven Fraser entered Guy’s office, he was looking at his computer screen. She sat down and he smiled at her distractedly. His phone rang and he looked annoyed as he picked it up.

  “I’m so sorry, Niven, but I have to take this. Will you excuse me?” He gave her an apologetic smile as he turned away.

  Niven nodded as she watched him leave the room. His lack of attention threw her. Wherever Niven went, people stared at her. They stared at her face and body until, she thought, they could see into her soul. Recently she’d had the sensation of being watched—that she was never completely alone. Even in her home she felt it. The Braille Club was her chance to be treated like anyone else, to close her eyes, and become unknown. As soon as she entered the reception, she felt safe, the feeling of being watched disappearing. She let her thoughts drift as she waited.

  Abandoned in a hospital as a baby, she had been headline news. They had found her in a cheap pram with a Bible nestled beside her. The media had covered the story, appealing for her mother to come forward as she went into foster care. That’s how her adoptive parents found her. Her mother Clarisse spotted the article in the papers and initiated a visit before eventually proceeding with the adoption. She claimed even as a baby, she could see Niven’s potential, and maybe she was right. A model herself, perhaps Clarisse saw something in her baby picture that others missed. Her adoptive father Craig was a photographer. A glamourous work-focused couple, they were not the normal type to adopt. Niven would find out later why they did.

  A few weeks after her adoption, Niven had her first modelling assignment. Everyone on the shoot was enchanted by her angelic face. She would become the most photographed baby of her time. She moved effortlessly into child modelling, very much in demand. It was not until her transition into fashion modelling that she drew real attention.

  Her eyes, they claimed, were simply remarkable. They called her the Mona Lisa of the model industry; it’s what she did naturally, her gaze following the camera but the effect in print was startling and her rise through the industry had been meteoric.

  Niven’s earliest memory was of her au pair Claudia, kind and loving. She hadn’t lasted long under Clarisse’s tutelage. Her adoptive mother didn’t like any display of emotion or staff getting too close to Niven. There were no hugs and kisses in Clarisse’s world and she ensured the same set of rules applied to her daughter, her thought process being her daughter would be better off without kindness. Kindness didn’t get you anywhere in life, especially in her industry. Niven had to be tough, had to be cold if she wanted to get to the top. No, it was better this way—at least Niven would be prepared.

  Helen came after Claudia. Niven liked her. She was bubbly, often meeting up with other au pairs and their charges. Meredith was her closest friend, and Niven remembered overhearing their conversation one day at the house, where they sat having coffee.

  “It’s got to the stage I actually hate her,” said Helen vehemently to Meredith.

  Her friend gasped in surprise. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

  “I’m sick of her constant jealousy and interference. I want to quit. Every instinct I’ve got tells me that woman is unstable when it comes to the care of her child. She’s not hurting Niven physically, but mentally, the damage could be irreparable if something isn’t done soon,” she said angrily. “I loved Niven as soon as I saw her, but I was appalled by the cold and emotionless environment she lived in.”

  Meredith clucked in sympathy. “That poor girl.”

  ***

  Helen

  Helen looked at Meredith as if for the first time. Her only way of helping Niven was to get her friend involved. She knew she was not the right person for the job. She was too hot headed, but the more she thought about it, the more she realised her friend was perfect. Meredith had gone through a terrible breakup and had dropped out of her nursing course in New Zealand. She’d told Helen her instinct was to distance herself from the pain, and London fit the bill. Her emotions shattered, she needed time out to reassess her life and signed to be an au pair on impulse. She listened, appalled by Helen’s story, but agreed immediately to her idea. Helen quit, telling Clarisse she w
as moving abroad with another family. Enraged, Clarisse had no option but to look for another au pair. Meredith applied for the job. Coached by Helen, she didn’t smile or enthuse about herself in any way; her approach was cold, focused and professional. She got the job.

  ***

  Meredith

  When she met Niven she smiled encouragingly but got little response from the child. Niven must have learned quickly the people in her life left without warning and forming attachments was something she couldn’t afford. Things changed dramatically for Meredith when Clarisse became the face of a major skin care company. Meredith thought she had a cold beauty. Her natural blonde hair framed clear eyes and a classic nose. Perfect white teeth, radiant skin, and a tall willowy frame meant she was never short of work. Clarisse worked mainly for the health and medical industry. She was always in demand, her natural flawless beauty the image they strived for. Meredith assumed the clever makeup artists supplied the warmth she lacked. But this time Clarisse hit the jackpot; it’s what changed everything in the long run. Clarisse’s career took over, and she was rarely at home. Meredith worked hard with Niven and eventually won her over, becoming Niven’s only emotional constant over the next few years.

  She stayed on much longer than she intended. She knew how much Niven needed her, but her own life had changed. She had met and married the man of her dreams and it was no longer possible to live in, but somehow with other help, they managed. When she unexpectedly fell pregnant, she knew she must look for a replacement. She made an excellent choice in Maria, who was also prepared to live in.

  ***

  Niven

  Niven and Maria soon forged a strong bond, and they both continued to see Meredith secretly. This small semblance of normality became a buffer for Niven. She was a bright student but in her heart she knew modelling was her quickest ticket away from her parents. She would have liked to attend University, but knew that would make her dependant on them, for longer. Niven worked hard, she secured a modelling agency, and by 17 she was making real money and independence beckoned. She knew of her adoption; her mother had no qualms telling her on an almost daily basis. Clarisse was considered a celebrity amongst her circle of friends. She had achieved the ultimate prize, a beautiful child with none of the drawbacks of pregnancy and birth.

  They thought her so brave taking on this unknown quantity but she had triumphed. Personally Clarisse had never wanted a child—she only wanted to fit in. Niven had been her ultimate accessory. Normally on the outside, Clarisse was invited in because of her daughter. How ironic Niven would feel exactly the same.

  By the age of 18, Niven was the hottest property in the industry and everyone wanted a piece of her. In charge of her own finances, at last she had options. She’d often caught her adoptive father staring at her, they weren’t close and he made her feel uncomfortable. Scrutiny would be her cross to bear. She stared at her reflection and wondered what they saw that she didn’t. She had jokingly asked a photographer what he saw when he looked at her. He gazed at her intently, making her blush before lifting his camera and looking through the lens.

  “I see long thick glossy hair that falls in soft waves from a widow’s peak,” he began. “The colour is rich dark chocolate. I see an oval face with perfect symmetry.”

  “Oh, stop,” said Niven, squirming with embarrassment, but he ignored her.

  “I see flawless skin the colour of honey. Eyes like dark pools of ink, their navy hue almost black. The sharp angles of your cheekbones are the perfect contrast to the soft curve of your lips. When photographed you are simply…exceptional,” he finished.

  Niven stared at him in disbelief, her mouth hanging open.

  “Everything I said is true, Niven. You need to believe in yourself,” he said softly.

  The look on his face made her nervous—she didn’t like it. She didn’t like the way he had moved closer. When he brushed her hair back from her shoulders, she shuddered. He bent his head and in the next moment she shoved him back, running from the room, heart beating wildly. He’d just shrugged and laughed. There were plenty more models he could chase but Niven sensed she’d had a lucky escape.

  She’d known then, without a shadow of a doubt, her face and body were her ticket to freedom. She couldn’t wait to leave her adoptive parents’ home. Two weeks before her twenty-first birthday she moved out. She took only her clothes, but it was while rummaging through her things that she came across an old Bible. She opened it and gasped as she read the inscription, not understanding the language but recognising the word:

  Mama

  Consumed, she had not rested until she had it translated. It read:

  To Alina,

  I pass this book to you as my mother did before me. May it give you strength when you need it most.

  Mother

  Then pasted below, a verse.

  Footsteps in the Sand.

  She knew every verse by heart, and the Bible became her most sacred possession. It gave her the strength she needed to rent a flat and cut all ties. It took her mother a week to notice she had gone. Clarisse had assumed she was on a shoot because that’s what Niven led her to believe. When she found her wardrobe empty, she’d been furious—not because her daughter had moved out, but because Clarisse had organised a huge party at the house for Niven’s twenty-first birthday.

  Niven ignored her calls to her mobile, deleting her ever increasing voicemails unheard. Celebrating her birthday quietly with a few friends, she had taken the precaution of giving her agency a P.O. Box address. She didn’t want her adoptive parents to know where she lived. Legally and financially independent, nothing would induce her to return to that house. But her mother tracked her down, storming onto a set, her usual control forgotten. People stared open mouthed as she slapped Niven hard across the face. As she screamed abuse, it was several minutes before Niven was rescued by the set producer. Clarisse was led away while Niven, shaken to her core, recited the verses of the prayer in her head. She used it to calm herself, like people used worry beads. Niven recovered and grew stronger as she put the past and her adoptive parents behind her. However, recently she’d felt uneasy, like she was being watched…like she was never alone. Her thoughts were interrupted when the door reopened and Guy Walker strode into the room.

  Chapter 7

  The Braille Club, London, One Year On: The Braille Reception was no longer manned, and members accessed their bookings via a fingerprint scan and touchscreen computer. They were then instructed to slot their key into the computer to load their zone. The new system was working well, although assistance was always available should members require it…they just had to ring the bell.

  Two Years Earlier

  Guy

  It was the start of the cat and mouse game Guy and Anna would become addicted to. She always kept him waiting. With their time together often snatched between work, it was precious, and this quality annoyed him. He was always desperate to be with her, but she was cool in response. This only made him want her more—the sex dynamite and dangerous as they took more and more risks.

  Guy ultimately knew they would have to stop, but fear of discovery only served to heighten his passion, taking him to exquisite new levels. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to her…or for her, and she always kept him hungry. Growing restless, he realised he wanted more, no longer content with their arrangement. The thought of Anna cuddled up at home with her husband consumed him. Jealous and angry, he was guilty of breaking his own rules. He knew he was getting too involved, and worse—getting too attached. Some perspective was needed before they both jeopardised their careers. He decided to cool things off. He could think rationally when he wasn’t around Anna. It was so obvious; he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

  When her usual text arrived he felt a spectrum of emotions—longing mixed with lust and excitement. Ignoring it, and her, was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He gave Anna her due, she played it beautifully. He found himself checking his mobile obsessively, but the
re was nothing from her and he felt his anger and disappointment building. After a week went by with no contact, he stormed into her chambers.

  “Can I help you?” enquired the surprised receptionist politely.

  “I need to see Anna Dunbar,” Guy said tersely, trying to retain some semblance of professionalism.

  Looking at him disapprovingly, she picked up the phone and spoke for several seconds.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but Anna is with a client and cannot be disturbed.”

  Those words made his blood run cold. They were the same words she used at their meeting. He wondered if at this very minute, some other guy was lifting Anna’s skirt, parting her legs, and bending her over her desk.

  “Sir? Sir?” The receptionist’s annoying voice pierced through Guy’s thoughts. “Would you like to make an appointment with Anna?” she asked.

  He just stared at her like an idiot, before mumbling, “No, it’s fine. I’ll call her.”

  “If you would like to leave your name and number, I can have Anna call you,” she said helpfully.

  “I said, it’s fine,” he snapped, turning on his heel, but not before he saw her recoil at his aggressive manner. Damn Anna to hell, Guy thought savagely.

  As he made his way back to his office, she was the only thing he could think of—he couldn’t get her out of his head. By the end of the second week at work, he was frantic, the gaping hole Anna left in his life urgent and impossible to ignore. He had to see her. Although it was late, he lifted his phone and sent her a one word text.