‘But where the hell would I wear this?’ Kara asked, turning to check the eye-popping curves the dress gave her, lifting herself up on bare feet to curl into a Jessica Rabbit ‘S’ shape. The slit from neck to crotch showed a long pale wedge of flesh, her breasts straining at the latex and threatening to spill out of the dress altogether.
‘We’ll take some pictures here,’ Lina murmured, dragging her palms across Kara’s flanks, all the while holding eye contact in the mirror. ‘Jerome’s studio’s set up next door.’
Just then, a tinny blast of music sounded from her pocket and Lina pulled her phone out and flipped it open.
‘Good,’ she said, a smile dancing over her lips, ‘I’ll send Jerome down.’
Lina was holding Kara’s chin and smudging dark-crimson lipstick over her lower lip when the door opened. Jerome approached them, rubbing his hands, nodding at the sight of Kara sprawled across his white leather sofa in the ludicrous dress. And although Lina held her chin with a firm grip, Kara twisted round, curious to see who was behind him.
‘Jon?’ she asked, bewildered.
‘Wow,’ he said, shoving his hands in his back pockets and bowing his head. He was wearing a red T-shirt and blushing to match it. His eyes didn’t leave Kara, not for a moment. ‘You look …’
‘Why’s Jon here?’ Kara demanded, looking straight at Lina.
The other woman slipped the lid back on her lipstick and shrugged. ‘Symmetry,’ she said simply. ‘The two of you look good together.’
In the background, Jerome was setting up a tripod, screwing a camera onto the base and sweeping the lens over Kara where she lay on the sofa. He fired off a few quick shots, the bursts of the flash half-blinding Kara so that she froze, uncertain, with the feeling she was trapped somehow and not in control of what was happening.
‘Just try to relax,’ Jerome said, ‘and let Lina direct you.’ He stood and folded his arms across his chest. Beside him, Kara noticed that Jon was looking at her curiously, almost as though they didn’t know each other. ‘You should be pleased to be working with her,’ Jerome continued. ‘Very clever woman, Lina, very clever.’ He smiled again, and walked over to the high windows to draw the blinds.
10
‘THAT’S IT, LEAN over towards her. Turn your chin a little. More.’
Jerome had put a CD in the stereo and a lush string symphony spilled from the speakers. The music bounced around the high echoing space of his living room, softened the edges of Kara’s nerves and lulled her into silence.
Of course they’d need promo shots. And she might feel slightly ridiculous in her porn-star get-up, but she had to admit at the same time she also felt curiously sexy. Confused, a little dazed and yet weak-at-the-knees sensual.
She lay back on the giant velveteen cushions and allowed Lina to direct her, meanwhile listening to the strings and the tight clicks of the camera shutter. Jon hovered behind the sofa, holding himself stiff and awkward as Jerome took the shots.
‘You really need to loosen up,’ Lina said. ‘Come down on the floor here, Jon, in front of Kara.’ He did her bidding silently, sinking onto his knees on the zebra-print carpet and flicking his hair out of his eyes. His usual light-heartedness had evaporated, and Kara almost reached out to touch his shoulder, give him a little shake. Something held her back. Jon had avoided her eyes since he’d arrived, his gaze darting over her rubber-clad body but quickly sliding away, and where his delicate lips would normally twist into a smile so easily, today his expression remained dark and unreadable.
‘Oh, they’ll love it, Jon,’ Lina said. ‘Just curl in a little closer. Your hand on her hip, maybe? Yes. Now look at her.
‘Delicious naif, isn’t he?’ she asked Jerome, who was pushing the tripod closer and refocusing.
‘Hm,’ he agreed, straightening and running a hand over his shaved head. ‘We should maybe work with that.’
‘Props?’
‘Good idea.’ Jerome nodded and disappeared into the other room, leaving the others hanging in uncomfortable tension. Jon’s hand was as heavy as lead on Kara’s thigh and under the dress she was growing hot and sticky.
‘You’re doing wonderfully,’ Lina said, dropping into the armchair facing them. ‘This is just what we need to sell The New Rakes – tension, a little shock value, lashings of sex.’
‘And here I was thinking we should be working on the new songs,’ Jon muttered, pulling at a loose thread in the rug under him.
Lina ignored him. ‘Of course, it’ll all feel a little strange at first, but trust me, you’re in professional hands. If you want to win, you need to play the game.’ She gave them a twenty-four-carat smile. ‘And I know the rules.’
Kara flinched. The mention of rules tended to bring her out in a rash. Part of her wished she was back in Tam’s bedsit with the band, cranking out rough and ready songs, listening for the hook and arguing with Tam about guitar riffs. She was ready to tell Lina where she could stick her rules, but at that moment, Lina’s phone rang. She stood up to take the call, talking fast and loud, as though there was no one else in the room.
‘This is kind of weird, isn’t it?’ Kara said to Jon.
He still hadn’t looked at her and although he was sitting only inches away he kept his back turned when he spoke. ‘I don’t trust her,’ he said, watching Lina as she gestured wildly with her free hand and jabbered into her phone.
‘Fair enough, Batman. But I guess it’s part of the deal. You know, get on the merry-go-round, sell your soul, become a superstar. The end.’ Kara shrugged, trying to keep the mood light.
‘I just don’t like the way she’s ordering us around.’
‘Yeah, well you’re not the one in rubber,’ Kara said, and watched as a faint crimson blush swarmed over the back of Jon’s neck, ruddying his china-white skin. Was he actually that innocent? She smirked before she could help herself. ‘D’you like it?’ she asked, wriggling further down the seat until she was close enough to smell his shampoo. Pursing her lips, she blew into the nape of his neck, where the hairline trailed to a point. He shuddered and Kara laughed quietly, just as Jerome walked in with a cardboard box.
‘Should be something we can use in here,’ he said, laying the box at Lina’s feet.
She glanced inside it, snapping her phone shut at the same time. ‘Oh, Jerome,’ she said, ‘this is wonderful. Give me a hand?’ She pointed at Jon, who got slowly to his feet. Lina lifted out a coil of black rope, knotted into a neat bundle. Kara felt a little thrill rush up her spine as she watched. This was a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. Lina was smiling at Jon as she unwound the rope, her movements slow and deliberate.
Kara could tell she was enjoying herself from the way she pulled the rope through her hand and from the way she looked at Jon with lowered eyelids. The rope fell silently to the floor and Lina doubled it over, held on to one end, tensing it between her hands. Finally, she reached out and pinched the hem of Jon’s T-shirt between her finger and thumb, lifting it so that Kara caught a glimpse of his belly, pale as paper, flat and perfectly hairless.
‘Uh,’ Jon started to protest, shrinking away from Lina’s curling fingers.
‘Come on now. Kara’s not been shy, has she? Let me tie you.’
Lina motioned with her hand, a little beckoning gesture, asking Jon to take off his T-shirt. When he did, sullen and kind of helpless, pulling it over his head in one movement, Kara swallowed. A half-naked man in the room made her feel somehow that she was also a layer more exposed. Jon’s body was slim and long and pale, with baby-pink nipples and muscles drawn in delicate pencil line across his abdomen and along his arms. He shrank away as Lina moved closer, squeezing and releasing his fist so that the tendons in his arm flexed.
‘OK?’ Lina asked. ‘Remember, we’re just play-acting. You can stop anytime you want to.’ She smiled. ‘But I don’t expect you will.’
For a moment nobody moved. Kara realised she was chanting to herself, in her head: Do it, do it, do it. At last Jon nodded and h
eld his wrists up readily, the gesture making it look for a moment as if he was begging to be tied.
Kara had always seen Jon as an appendage to Ruby, one skinny half of a couple, never looked at him directly. Now he stood in front of her, vulnerable and exposed, and she let herself consider him as a man. He had a body full of nerves and muscle and sensation, and for sure his sex drive didn’t begin and end with Ruby.
Lina looped rope around his wrists and his body became something other than Jon – a man’s torso, a man’s flesh, bound and restrained. With his hands crossed over each other, Lina wound the rope back and forth, pulling it slowly under itself and tying it finally to leave one long trailing end.
Jon tugged, but his wrists were pinned fast. With that one knot, Kara was disarmed. She imagined herself pressing against Jon’s soft, glowing white skin. Now he was tied, it seemed he could finally look at her and when their eyes met it shocked her. His expression held nothing of the soft affection or the playful sexiness when he looked at Ruby, but instead was full of the dangerous, predatory look of raw desire. His doe’s eyes were wet and his long lashes drifted down as Lina pulled on the rope to lead him back to the sofa.
‘Now, get on your knees,’ Lina was instructing again, and Kara was already rising to stand in front of him. They didn’t need to be choreographed any more; it seemed entirely natural for her to reach down and bury her hand in Jon’s short, choppy brown hair. She rubbed his head, as if stroking a pet, and could almost convince herself it was just a friendly gesture. Even when Jon sagged against her and Kara felt the heat of his body through the rubber dress, his cheek pressed into her stomach and his chin digging into her hip, she didn’t let go.
Meanwhile Lina murmured encouragement, Jerome took picture after picture and the music continued to pour into the room. Kara moved as her body dictated, arching her back and pulling Jon closer to her crotch, letting him squirm against her and struggle to stay upright. Lina still held the end of the rope and she circled the two of them, winding the length around Kara’s waist so that Jon’s hands were pulled upwards and held tight against her, his knuckles pushing on her pubic bone. He wriggled a little and his fists locked in place, a hard welcome press that Kara wanted to lean into.
She was sticky now, the dress rubbing against her where she’d sweated and pinching under the arms. Lina was pulling the rope around, trailing it over Kara’s shoulder and binding the two of them together. She handed the end to Kara.
‘Up to you how hard you pull,’ she said, letting her hand trail up Kara’s arm and squeezing her shoulder. ‘But if you keep the rope tight, it’ll look better in the pictures.’
‘Move slowly,’ Jerome called from behind the camera. ‘I want these crystal sharp.’
Kara held onto the rope, contemplating what would happen if she gave it one hard tug. Jon was slipping, the shiny and oiled surface of her dress not giving him enough purchase. If she didn’t help him, he’d be on the floor any minute. Thoughtfully, she pulled on the rope, dragged him up and felt the smooth rub of the rope as it slipped over her shoulder.
‘Careful,’ Jerome said. ‘You don’t want rope burns.’
Jon’s face was against her crotch now, breathing heavily, his shoulders heaving. They moved together, bound by the rope but separated by the dress, able to feel only the heat and undefined pressure of each other. Kara was grateful for the barrier between them. Without that dress, Jon’s skin would be against hers and they would cross a line that she knew wasn’t right.
‘Safe sex,’ she whispered to Jon, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice, ‘always wear rubber, right?’ He didn’t laugh, and Kara felt his bound fingers scrabble against her, searching for the outline of her pussy under the slippery surface. They could play-act, she thought, of course. This was just some dumb photo shoot. Just so long as nobody admitted her good friend was feeling her up. And nobody mentioned Ruby.
‘Wait,’ Jerome called, and ran to her with a large pair of shears. ‘Just an idea,’ he said, leaning down and cutting from the hem of the dress up towards Kara’s stomach. Jon watched, the blades dangerously close to his face. The rubber stretched under Jerome’s large hands and cut easily, the edges pulling back as the point of the scissors moved upwards, the blunt side of them cold against Kara’s skin. ‘There,’ Jerome said, peeling one half of the dress away.
Kara’s thigh was bared, the slit stopping just short of her pussy. She now felt keenly naked next to Jon’s face. This is when everything falls apart, she thought, even as exhilaration buzzed through her.
Her skin was still smeared with lubricant. Moisture matted the dark curls of her pubic hair and the cold air of the studio was fresh against her clit. Jon’s hot breath passed back and forth over her most tender spot. Her face burned and she held on to the rope so tight her hand hurt.
‘Damn,’ Jerome said, fiddling with his camera. ‘Run out of space. I never blow a memory card. You two are good.’ He started dismantling the camera, unscrewing it from the tripod and flipping open the side, while Kara and Jon tried desperately to hold the pose. ‘Give me a minute,’ Jerome told them, backing away towards the other room.
‘I’ll download the other pictures while we’re waiting’ Lina said, following him. She shook her head as though any hitch in her day was unforgivable.
And then Kara was alone with Jon and there was nothing to stop him from sighing and rolling an inch closer to her. It could have been an accident.
Neither of them spoke and Kara didn’t crack any jokes. She just tugged at the edge of her dress slightly so that she was exposed. So that Jon could dip his head down and press his mouth against her clit. One soft warm kiss. So slight she might have imagined it, just a brushing of his mouth against her. No tongue, no sucking, no licking or biting. Just a chaste and heated kiss. Jon groaned and Kara felt her heart swing in her chest, knowing it was wrong but tipping forwards all the same, winding her fingers into his hair and rocking against Jon’s face.
She was half praying for his tongue to dart out and curl into her. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she swore to herself. His cheek was smooth and cool against her thigh and her legs were so weak they were trembling. Kara gritted her teeth and let go of the rope. Jon slumped onto his knees, letting out a long shaky breath.
‘OK, all fixed,’ Jerome said, walking briskly back into the room. ‘We can start again.’ He looked back at Jon and Kara, now inches apart, the rope lying limp on the floor between them.
Kara clenched her teeth together and held herself very straight. She nodded at Jerome and moved back onto the couch, waiting for Lina to start shouting out directions again.
For the rest of the morning, as they moved through a variety of different poses, with rope wound around them and Jerome’s music playing faintly in the background, Kara remained silent. She and Jon touched and brushed against each other sometimes, but she held it back, refused to let the elecricity flow, closed her eyes and bit her lip. Play-acting, she repeated to herself, just play-acting.
When she and Jon left Jerome’s studio in the late afternoon and stood outside in the street, Kara felt a rush of relief and regret. Something clutched in her stomach and her skin was clammy from lubricant and sweat. Though she was back in her denim skirt, she could still feel where the dress had clung to her body.
‘Well, that was crazy, huh?’ she said to Jon, who was swinging around, looking for a bus stop.
He nodded. ‘The others’ll be glad they missed that session,’ he said, a note of forced humour in his voice.
Kara’s shoulders sagged. ‘They don’t … They don’t need to hear about it, Jon,’ she said. ‘Not all of it.’
Jon looked at her with his limpid eyes and now there was a touch of blue sadness in them. ‘No, you’re right. They don’t.’
‘Where are you heading?’ she asked.
‘Uh, back to your, to Ruby’s flat.’
‘Right.’
‘Are you going that way too?’
Kara shook her head and gave him a tight smi
le. ‘No. I think I need to cut loose. Besides, we’re recording tomorrow. I’m going to go and blow off some steam.’
With that, they parted. Kara watched Jon’s back as he disappeared down St Vincent Street, his hands jammed in his pockets as though he was carrying their secret buried deep within them.
Kara set off across the red tarmac of George Square. Tired, dazed and horny, she didn’t have a destination in mind, but her feet seemed to know exactly where she was going. Dusk had already fallen and the sky was dark turquoise over in the west, the traffic inching in that direction almost slower than she was walking. As she fished in her bag for her phone, Kara saw the red marks on her wrist, indentations where the rope had been coiled. The lines were perfectly even, the pattern as neat and delicate as a bracelet. As she called Mike’s number, she walked faster, cutting across the street by the station and dodging cars.
‘Mike,’ she said, raising her voice over the growling engines, ‘I want to see you.’
Up ahead, Kara recognised a guy she knew from basement gigs. She swerved up a side street before he saw her, slipped down the alley where the sound was muted and the lights murky.
‘Now,’ she said into her phone, ‘I need to see you right now.’
She sawed back and forth on her heel as she listened to Mike’s reply.
‘I’m at the studio. Come round.’
‘No, not there.’ Kara threw herself against the brick of the alley wall and sighed out loud. ‘Come and pick me up.’
‘Where are you?’
Kara looked around and found a street sign. ‘Heckler’s Wynd.’
‘Bad timing, Kara. The traffic’s awful.’
The New Rakes Page 9