“Is everything okay?’
“Yes! I didn’t mean to worry you, I just wanted to talk. Can’t a girl just call to talk?”
“Oh, of course.” I hear the tension leave his voice.
“How was your trip?”
“I just got here a few minutes ago. I went home to take care of some stuff before leaving around four. I am about to go have coffee with my father.”
“I should let you go then.”
“We can talk for a few minutes. Did you want to tell me something?”
“No. It’s just so lonely here without you.”
“Is it? I’ll be back tomorrow and then things can go back to normal.” Normal. Have things ever been normal in our relationship?
“Can’t wait. I can’t believe I miss you so much already. I’m pretty lame.”
“Trust me, the last thing I want to do is be away from you right now, but I want to make sure we have nothing serious to worry about.”
“I know. Please promise me, if by some chance you see him, you don’t go on another rampage.” There is no answer on the other line. “Please Taylor.”
“Okay. I promise. Hey, I was thinking...”
“What?”
“Why don’t you and I go on a vacation or a weekend getaway?”
“I would love that.”
“We can go to my condo in New York or-”
“You have a condo in New York City?”
“Yeah. Have you ever been?”
“No. I would love to go, it would have to be over a weekend with the new job.”
“Then we’re on. We’re going to have a lot of fun. Tons of museums to satisfy your art cravings. I can hear you smiling.”
I do have a huge smile on my face. “How’d you know?”
“I know that smile all too well. I study you all the time.”
“Oh stop it!”
“I know every square inch of you. Do you know you smile in your sleep?”
“I do not!”
“Oh yes you do. Sometimes you say things too.”
“I talk in my sleep? I thought I stopped doing that when I was a kid. What do I say?”
“Most of the time it’s unintelligible, but once I heard you tell a chicken to take it’s socks off. I don’t think I ever laughed so hard.”
“I did not!”
“I swear. And I quote ‘Chickens don’t wear socks, take off those socks’.” We laugh and laugh, until tears are streaming down my cheeks.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I thought I would save it for myself. It’s like a little secret piece of you I get to keep.”
“Oh lord. I hate to know what else I do in my sleep.”
“Sometimes you twitch your button nose, but most of the time, when you’re not talking to chickens, you’re very still. I take you in from head to toe. That’s how I know you have a little birthmark on your inner thigh and a scar shaped like a heart on your left shoulder.”
“I hate that thing. I got that falling from a tree when I was little.”
“I think it’s cute. You’re smiling again.”
“I’m not telling.”
“You don’t have to. I have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The house is empty again. I heat up a veggie burger from the freezer for dinner. When Taylor isn’t around, I don’t eat nearly as heartily. Most of the enjoyment I take from my meal comes from sharing it with him. I pull a backlog of magazines from my kitchen counter and take them to bed. My life has been too exciting as of late to do my usual reading, so I use this night to catch up and lull myself to sleep.
***
I get in to work early the next day to make up for the time I was away yesterday handling all of the Holden family drama. Once Chad gets in, most of my morning will be packed with meetings. I am hoping Taylor will get back in time for us to meet for “lunch.”
Eleven o’clock rolls around and I still haven’t heard anything from him. I shoot him a text.
Shyla:
How is everything going? Will you be back for lunch?
Another thirty minutes pass and still there is no response. I start to worry. Could he have had a run-in with Eric? A few minutes later I see a large bouquet of flowers floating over the desk partitions in the distance. They start to hover in my direction. Out emerges a man, holding them, walking towards me. Taylor wouldn’t.
“Are you Shyla Ball?”
“Yes...” I flush with embarrassment.
“These are for you.” Tonya and some of the other ladies flock to my desk to gawk at the beautiful arrangement and tell me how sweet my boyfriend is. Once they clear out, I pluck the card from its holder amongst the flowers.
Let’s play a game. I want you to sneak out of the office. Don’t let Harrison see. Meet me at the same suite as last time. Leave now.
Taylor’s silence now makes sense. He wants to play a game. I like the idea of sneaking away from Harrison for a while. I discreetly grab my purse and slip out of the office. I make a quick run to the bathroom to check on my hair and makeup. I have on a dark purple blouse with a black pencil skirt and a pair of black open toed heels. Admittedly, I dressed up more than what is required by Rubix’s dress code, but I wanted to look extra put together for Taylor. In the morning, I had put on the black lace thong from the night of the gala along with a black lace pushup bra. I freshen up with some berry-colored lipstick and strategize about how I will exit the office building without Harrison spotting me. There is a back exit from the basement for the service lot where the trucks deliver food and supplies. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if going out without security is wise, but I know Taylor wouldn’t have me sneak out unless he knew it was safe. The visit to his father must have paid off. Honestly, the element of the unknown makes this little “mission” that much more fun.
The hotel is several blocks away, but I welcome the walk since I have been shuttled around in a car way too much these days. I make sure to stay clear of Harrison’s line of vision until I am sure I am too far away to be spotted. It takes me about ten minutes to get to the hotel. This time I don’t have a key, but one of the double doors has been left ajar for me. The suite is very large, just as large as Taylor’s suite in St. Petersburg, with several separate rooms. A room of this size seems unnecessary for an afternoon delight, but this is Taylor we’re talking about. I peek into the corner where he was seated last time, but there is no one there.
“Hello?” There is no response. All the lights are off. The sitting room looks completely undisturbed. I slowly walk into the bathroom just off of the sitting room. There is no sign of anyone and it also appears undisturbed. Out of the corner of my eye, I think see a figure. I quickly turn, but the room behind me is empty. Carefully, I walk into the bedroom, which is also empty. I look at the bed to see if anything has been left for me, a trademark of Taylor’s, but there is nothing. A mixture of trepidation and excitement make my temperature rise. I remove my trench coat and throw it along with my purse on a chair at the corner of the bedroom.
“Taylor, I’m here! This is weirding me out a bit.”
I know he is playing a game, he said it right on the card, so I try my best not to let on in my voice how nervous this entire thing is starting to make me. I spot another door, not being sure what is on the other side, I open it tentatively. It’s another bathroom, empty just like the other one. The closet. I slide the large closet door open. A single empty hanger sways ever so slightly from side to side. No sign of Taylor. I like games, but it is tough to play a game when you don’t know the rules or the object. Maybe I should give Taylor a ring and let him know that my lame ass sucks at this game. I turn to retrieve my purse and what I see makes me nearly jump out of my skin.
A tall man, completely covered head to toe in a leather suit, is just a foot away from me. He stands there in silence. I have no idea how long he has been there.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I can tell from his stature that it’s Taylor and then I remember
having seen a small collection of leather and latex articles in a wardrobe in the darkroom. When I asked, he told me the ones that cover his entire body are called zentai suits. I wasn’t expecting to be introduced to one of them today. Once the residual shock passes and I take a few breaths, I am finally able to say something.
“Taylor, you scared the shit out of me...”
He puts a finger over my lips and I stop. I take him in one more time and I can’t believe it, but there is something incredibly sexy about him in this outfit. It might be the way the tight suit hugs the outline of his entire physique, each muscle defined by the slick, cold leather. There is also something about the silence, the complete anonymity that is arousing. He is the embodiment of pure sex, a sexual object, nothing more right at this moment. This is certainly not the way I expected to reunite with him, but I’ll go with it. His covered hand reaches around my waist and pulls me up to his body. His hardness presses against my belly. I reach around his cold, covered head to kiss him, but realize I have no access to his face. I lightly kiss the leather where his mouth is covered and leave the faint imprint of my berry lipstick on the suit. I am unsure of what to do next, he is standing right here in front of me, but he is completely inaccessible. His hand glides down to my bottom and he picks me up effortlessly, taking me to the bed. He pushes up my skirt and pulls up my shirt, gliding his cool gloved hands over my stomach and breasts. He pauses and reaches one hand below. I hear sound of a zipper and I know what is to come next. There are no fancy positions or dirty talk, yet this is nothing vanilla. He pushes his way inside of me. I clench the sheets at both sides. I feel no urge to say his name, because while I know he is in there, he is disconnected. I am with the deepest recesses of Taylor’s sexual psyche. I am with his id. This is the embodiment of that faceless, featureless, dark part of him.
I’ll admit, at this moment, I don’t care about emotion or love. He is a walking tool for my pleasure. He is mine and though he is on top of me, I feel as though I own him. His hands hold my breasts as he thrusts, his hips rhythmic and purposeful. He knows exactly how to move to take me over the edge. I clench around him, all the energy concentrating to this one spot until it can be held no longer, contracting and exploding like a supernova. This time I don’t call out his name, instead I growl, I cry out, like an animal in heat. He maintains his silence, but I feel his body tense and relax as he comes just after me.
I lie in the bed, staring at the ceiling while he pulls off of me. I don’t expect him to break out of his current persona and be my regular Taylor, and so I don’t say a word to him. Another sex hangover with Taylor starts to creep in. It’s a heady buzz mixed with that tainted feeling that comes after anonymous sex. I hear the door close to the room and just like that, he is gone.
I wash up and grab a cab back to the office to ensure my lunch break isn’t too long. The cab driver does not question why I want to be dropped off at the rear of the building. I’ll wait for Taylor to get in touch with me about plans for tonight. Sometimes, I just need a break after these afternoon “lunches.” I don’t get a message from Taylor until just after five.
Mr. SexyPants:
Checking in. Haven’t heard from you in a while I know you’re probably busy. Do you want to do dinner at my house? I can start it now so it’ll be ready by the time Harrison brings you home.
Shyla:
Of course! Dinner at your place tonight sounds like a nice change of pace. Can’t wait to hear how everything went. I’ll see you at 6. OXOX
On my way out of the office I spot Chad, whom I have only seen in meetings today.
“Hey you! How did last night go with Kristin?”
“It went well. She was so excited about the Chinese food. She had a feeling you put me up to it. You haven’t spoken with her today? She mentioned something about her cousin trying to get a hold of you.”
“No, it’s been a busy day! That’s weird, I haven’t seen any calls or anything. I’ll follow up with him tomorrow. I am beat. Did she say it was an emergency or anything?”
“I don’t think so, she was just supposed to get you to call him I think. Which leads me to wonder why in the world are you calling her cousin if you don’t mind me asking?”
“He’s doing some family history research for me. Long story. Looks like you get to talk to my best friend more than I do!” Chad smiles. “I gotta run. This time I have a dinner date!”
As usual, Harrison drops me off at the front door. From there he usually goes into the guest house where he stays unless he is taking the night off. I notice a small yellow bubble mailer sitting just in front of the door addressed to Taylor. I grab it on my way in. The aroma of marinara sauce wafts in the air. Smells like Taylor has pulled out the ancient book! I walk into the kitchen where I see pots of various sizes emitting steam on the range. Taylor emerges from the hallway. His hair appears be wet from a recent shower.
“Hey pretty lady.” I drop everything on the counter and walk up to him, he dips me and gives me a big kiss. Wow. He is in an exceptionally good mood. He smells of fresh soap. The smell reminds me how much I missed him. “You look beautiful today.”
“Why thank you! You seem to be a 2000 on the 1-10 Taylor Holden scale of bubbliness.”
“Eric being gone of course and happy to see you.”
“I’m happy you’re back too. I figured about Eric, but tell me more.”
“I’ll tell you the details over dinner. It’a a long story, but then again, what isn’t with my life?” We both smile.
“Can’t wait. I’m so glad this whole fiasco is over. I don’t know if I can take anymore high-speed chases.”
“I think they made you hot for me.”
“It doesn’t take much for that. Leather suits for example...” Taylor gives me a quizzical look and I laugh, but blush a little. I dared to mention the anonymous encounter. “Oh, nevermind! What have we got here? Spaghetti and meat sauce?”
“I’ll keep that in mind, kinky one. Yes, this is actually my dad’s recipe. One of the very few dishes I know how to make from memory. Taste.”
“Wow Taylor, that is delish! I’ve been eating like a bachelorette while you’ve been gone.”
“I think you’d have rickets or scurvy or something if you didn’t eat with me.”
“I’m not that bad!”
“I would say you are in fact, that bad.”
“Hey, I managed to survive thus far until you came into my life and saved me with your delicious gourmet wines and vegetables. I desperately need to get into something more comfortable. Be right back.” I step into the hallway and it hits me that there is something I forgot to tell him. It takes me a second, but it finally comes to mind. I yell out from the hall. “Oh-Taylor! It looks like there was some sort of package you missed today. It was sitting in front of the door. I placed it on the counter.”
I need some freshening up, so I rinse my face off and I go into his dresser for an old T-shirt. I put my hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of my face. The first signs of hunger start to come fast and furious so I skip out to the hallway. I love it when Taylor is cheerful especially now that I know why it can be so hard for him to feel anything at times. I skip down the hallway.
“Taylor! I am soooo hungry! We’re gonna need a salad bowl for --.” Then I see it.
I cannot fully describe my feelings during those seconds as my brain registers what my eyes are viewing on the flat screen TV in the great room, but I’ll try. It’s the surreal experience when the world begins to move around you as if, for a moment, it slows down on its axis and you are aware of everything yet can process nothing. The floor below me feels as if it is shifting and my vision tunnels to only the relevant images before me. On the screen is me lying in bed moaning, the leather-covered figure above me, thrusting. Taylor is sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, a look of complete dismay on his face.
My throat goes completely dry. I know something is terribly, terribly wrong from the look on his face. I can hear the shakiness in
my own voice as I ask: “Taylor...what is going on?”
He looks up and the mix of rage and pain on his face is peppered with tears, sparkling in the darkness, as the light of the TV reflects on each one. “How could you?”
“Taylor, what are you talking about? You’re scaring me.”
“What the fuck do you think I am talking about?”
“Taylor. I don’t understand.” The sheer weight of emotion and uncertainty of the situation makes me start to cry.
“You don’t understand? You don’t understand! Are you blind?” He points to the television. My body is exposed now, the black figure engulfing me.
“What? That’s you Taylor! That’s you!”
“Oh god!” He shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s not me Shy! That’s not fucking me!” He nearly wails these words.
“If this is one of your games, it’s not funny.” The tunnel starts to shrink, my legs start to feel prickly.
“It was dated this afternoon. Is that when this happened?” His voice sounds like a distant cry. I fall to my knees. This can’t be. My life has become a Shakespearean tragedy. He runs up to me and gets on his knees. “Shy, you have to stay with me. When was this?”
“Turn it off. Turn it off!” I scream. I cannot be a witness to my rape. He pauses the scene. It remains frozen in time in front of me. “This afternoon. Around noon. You sent me flowers...”
“Shy. I didn’t get back until four. I didn’t send you flowers.”
“You sent me flowers!” I scream. “I read the card, you told me to meet you at the hotel.”
Taylor’s voice softens. “Shy. I never sent you flowers or a card. I sent you a text that I was running late and that I wouldn’t make it back until the afternoon.”
“I never got anything like that. I only got the one about dinner.”
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