Blindfolded and restrained, this time she’ll be able to enjoy without having any part in the responsibility. It’s all me.
“Is this how you imagined it?”
“You really like doing all the work, don’t you?”
“Believe me, this is far from work.”
She might have called me a crazy bitch yesterday, but I think we’re past that.
I kiss her cheek, then her mouth as her body strains towards me, and I indulge her, enjoying the small whimper when my fingers glide into her, deep. She was almost there earlier, so all I have to do is stroke her gently, inside, outside, until the sensation becomes too much. Her lips part, her fingers twitch. I could do this all night, tease, play with her, listen to her breathless pleas. Maybe this is where she’ll stop asking questions, because the why is so obvious. I might have some unselfish reasons, in the big picture, but this is a big part of the why. I am good at seeing the potential underneath a person’s exterior. She’s good at her job, pleasant and polite, a better than average student, not making any waves…but I could see something else in her, something I’ve been waiting to uncover.
She’s trembling, the gasps accompanying each stroke sounding more like a sob...and then she does what I told her to do, gives in, lets the sensations take her over.
I hold her, listen to her rapid heartbeat. “That was a good start, wasn’t it?”
“Start,” Penelope repeats, disbelief coloring the word, but there’s a smile on her face. I lean in to kiss it. “You’re not going to untie me?” There’s a hint of worry now, and I clarify.
“I will before I go. Fair enough?”
“Would you stop if I said no?”
“I can leave right now, if you want that.” She walked right into that. “I’ll untie you first.” Penelope shivers under my fingertips, and I’m fairly confident as to what her answer will be. “Do you want to stop?”
I have a few more surprises lined up for her, and I’m sure she can tell.
“No.” Her voice is barely below a whisper. “Don’t stop.”
“Are you comfortable?” She nods.
I kiss her stomach, then move to place a pillow under her hips. In expectation of more pleasures, she lets me arrange her body the way I want to. Based on yesterday, I’m sure she’s formed some idea of what’s going to happen, but I intend to mix it up a bit. I know she likes my fingers and tongue—I can’t wait to see what the gentle vibrations of a small, smooth silicone toy will do.
The blindfold helps with everything that might still not be clear between us, a trick of the mind, doing away with any hesitation or doubt. Her legs are wide open, and I can’t resist leaning in for a taste. Sex is something wonderfully uncomplicated. She trusts me blindly, to know what I’m doing. The real challenge is to get there outside of the bedroom, but physical pleasure certainly will ease the way. I switch on the toy. “Well, good. I think this will relax you even more.”
“Will you please…stay with me?” It’s obviously tough to stay focused enough to get the words out, with everything that’s happening with her body at this moment.
“I’ll stay for a little while if you work with me, let yourself feel. Everything.”
“I can’t…”
“Yes, you can.”
With the toy inside, my mouth on her, she is completely at my mercy. This time, she cries out when her body gives in to the inevitable. We’re getting there.
* * * *
“You didn’t have to drug and kidnap me for this,” Penelope says, ruefully, after I’ve given sight and freedom of movement back to her. She’s not moving much, anyway, letting me embrace her without any resistance. Her body is warm and pliant against me, and incredibly arousing, but it’s not the time. Not yet.
“But I did,” I whisper.
One day, she’ll know the whole story, but until then, I enjoy this bit of power play. I have to be careful of shifting dynamics though. Already, I stayed longer than I intended to.
“Crazy bitch.” This time, it sounds oddly affectionate.
“Careful. You don’t know what I’ll do the next time your hands are tied.”
Her answer is a soft, knowing smile.
“Enjoying your time-out so far?”
“I’m getting used to it.”
Well, I’m not used to it yet, the shifting of gears. It seems like even with all the locked doors and ties, nothing is completely for certain. That bothers me, especially since I made a lot of promises to her about loosening the rules. It will all be better once the deal is done, and I send Colette on her way safely.
She has accepted the ticket which is officially not from me, but a friend with a vacation home nearby. I don’t know a lot more. For security reasons, we don’t communicate in detail via email. I’m a bit concerned. If there was nothing to talk about, she might have said no to the offer…then again, maybe she really does need a vacation.
Penelope reaches for me as I move away, pouting. “Don’t go. I think I owe you.”
“No you don’t. You can barely keep your eyes open.”
“I’m sure I’ll sleep better if you stay,” she argues. “Carter. Please.”
I don’t turn around. Once on the other side of the door, I take a deep breath and lock behind me.
It seems like we both have some adjusting to do.
Chapter Eight
I crawl into her bed in the early morning, before sunset, after some lonely, restless and uncomfortable hours. She’s barely awake the first time she comes, shuddering against my tongue, unable to keep in the helpless needy sounds. The second time it’s my thumb against her clit, my fingers pressed deep into her triggering her orgasm.
“Let me,” she begs. “I need to touch you. Please.”
I let her, because her request doesn’t come from a need to take control, on the contrary. All according to plan, I tell myself. I also don’t have time to stand in a cold shower all day. I let her touch me, but place my hand over hers to guide her movements, the results quick and satisfying. We don’t need to go into depth.
Today, we have the luxury of staying in bed a little longer. I reflect on the past few days, worries, surprises.
I suppose Penelope does too.
“Thank you,” she says, startling me. This is an odd point in our relationship I honestly hadn’t planned for.
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“Maybe I do,” she argues. “If I try to see things from your point of view…”
“Don’t.”
“I don’t hate you…this. I just didn’t understand, maybe I still don’t, because it’s nothing I ever imagined. I assume it makes sense to you somehow.”
With her naked body this close, I’m not in the mood for philosophizing, especially with the direction this conversation is going.
“This makes sense, don’t you think?” I pull back the sheet, brushing my hand over her side, her smile an indication that she’s willing to let this go for now. Good. “You don’t have to thank me,” I say again. “This is all my pleasure. Let me see what I can do before I have Marlene bring breakfast.”
“In here?” Her eyes widen at the idea.
“You were the one who asked her for tools to get prepared. I think she has a pretty clear idea of what happens in here.” My fingertips glide over her swollen clit. Penelope sinks back into the pillows, all concerns about Marlene forgotten for the moment. “Speaking of which…” I can’t hide the raw lust from my voice. This, her, all for me, is what this is all about, the reason why I was ready to go further than ever before, circumvent every possible obstacle. “Did you like what we did yesterday? The toy? I can get you more, if you want.”
She moans. Such a beautiful sound, I can’t get enough of it, of her.
“I can tell you like me talking about it,” I tease her, moving my fingers faster, over and into her. I lean forward to kiss her deeply as she shudders underneath me.
I regret nothing.
* * * *
When I call the va
cation home, I use the same cell phone I gave Penelope to call her mother. Colette has arrived and will meet me tonight at the house.
“Great. I’ll send you a car.”
“I’ll be ready,” she says, and damn her, her tone reveals nothing about why it was so important we talk. On the other hand, as long as we’re still talking, whatever problem arose can be contained. I’m too giddy to let it spoil my day, and the emotion is rare as it is.
For her studies and book club notes, I gave Penelope a laptop, just the bare bones, no internet connection. I can feel her mellow, in every gaze, every interaction, but I still need to monitor her communication. It’s only been days. I can’t be sure she wouldn’t disclose anything—but I’ll let her call her parents again next week. I have also turned off the cameras in her rooms which is every bit as much to make me feel better about myself as it is for her privacy. I’m certain she’ll be fine.
Gillian calls me to inform me that all ducks are in the row, and our temporary competitor has decided to pull out of the deal. So it’ll be me and Marcus Wellington, and we can bring down the offer even lower. I intend to do right by the business and its employees, the ones that didn’t actively cover up his crimes, but he’ll be confronted with numbers that’ll hurt. I’m looking forward to that.
“So you’re come over tomorrow?” she asks.
I suppress a sigh. I really wanted to spend more time with Penelope, but now that her trying to run away is less likely, I have to think long-term, think of business. Once the probation period, locked doors, is over, I could offer her a job, part-time, as long as she’s still studying, and fulltime after that if she wants it.
“I guess you guys need me for this.”
Gillian laughs. “You don’t want to miss it, do you?”
“No. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, then.”
“Looking forward to it.”
I change out of my business clothes into a casual dress, transitions, they’re important. Colette is a woman who has to look over her shoulder all the time. I want her to be comfortable. Marlene will offer snacks and cocktails. Two friends spending an evening together, that’s all there is.
I send the car to pick her up, not liking the tension that has gripped my body—I can’t think too much about Penelope either, our earlier activities. Once I’ve dealt with Colette and Wellington, I think I need a real vacation, somewhere with no cell phone access. Maybe I can take Penelope out on the yacht for a few days, visit another island—or maybe there is no place for me, anywhere, to get away.
I can’t wait for this day to be over.
Colette has been here before, so she’s not overly impressed by the size of the premises or how many doors and hallways we need to pass before arriving at the bar.
“As always, an elaborate set-up,” she remarks.
“Only the best for my guests. You’re enjoying your vacation?”
“You know I’m not here for a vacation, though, thank you, Carter. I appreciate this.”
“You should take advantage. How about a cocktail?”
“No thanks. A beer will be fine.”
I have Marlene bring her an imported brand, Colette’s favorite, and mix a Martini for me. “That would be all,” I tell her when she brings the drinks to the table. “I’ll close up here later.”
“As you wish. Good night Ms. Forbes. Ms. Grady.”
I detect a hint of disapproval, which almost makes me laugh. Colette and I, that was a long time ago, and didn’t last long. She has the hots for a detective back home. A guy. Well, each to her own.
“You wanted to see me,” I begin once Marlene has left.
She studies me, curious, then takes a look around and I wonder what she’s looking for. “I’m a bit worried,” Colette says, taking a swig from the bottle. “I wanted to make sure it’s all in my head.”
“What is all in your head?”
“I talked to a friend of mine recently...He’s got a new case, a woman disappeared from her apartment? She contacted her parents, and some ‘friend’ told her friends as well that she’s taking time off somewhere.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes, but it gets even stranger. They’re not buying it. Then Cam asked me to look into a few things, and indeed, she seems to have vanished. It’s quite puzzling.”
“I don’t know,” I say, holding her gaze. “Maybe there is no case. What are we talking about again?”
“You always give waitresses $1,000 tips?”
I shrug. “Sometimes.” I can guess where this is going, damn it, we were so careful. What the hell did I miss? I didn’t think the FBI would get involved this early, but it looks like I should have been a little more wary of inter-departmental relationships.
“You know I have a type. When they’re pleasant and doing their job well, I leave them a little surprise. Why would that be any of your concern?”
“Come on, do you think I’m stupid? The girl has a fairly boring life, goes to work, goes to university, one day she gets a crazy tip—which has been confirmed by her colleague—a few days later she decides to take a break? Something doesn’t add up. Those $1,000 won’t last long enough for a sabbatical.”
“What are you saying?”
Colette sighs. “Look, you and Nick aren’t exactly incognito back home, people know you, and it won’t take long until they make connections. I can imagine what happened. She’s impressed with all the money and pretty things you can throw at her, you two make an arrangement and maybe you need to come up with a story, because you need to be discreet about this.” She takes a sip of her beer. “Come up with a better story. There are people worried about her. They want to know where she is.”
This is a rather benevolent version of the story, and maybe I should go with it, but I can’t take the risk, too much is on the line.
“That sounds like something out of Pretty Woman. A nice story, but I can assure you that’s all there is. I remember the waitress. She was cute, sexy, and I wouldn’t have minded getting her in my bed, but I’m a bit busy here. If you’ve been keeping tabs on me, you perhaps know that I have an important deal going down soon. As for the girl, I hope nothing bad happened to her.”
“Yeah, you and me both.” I hope she’s ready to let this go, but no such luck. “You’d be honest with me, wouldn’t you? If I asked Marlene, she’d tell me there’s no one new in the house?”
“We hire people all the time. There’s someone new in the landscaping team.”
She makes a frustrated sound. “There will be nothing in Penny Elliot’s apartment that connects her disappearance to you, am I right? God, I hope I’m right.”
“I am sure wherever Penny Elliot—that’s her name?—wherever she is, she’s safe and happy. Maybe she had enough of the job, cashed in her last check and flew to Europe. Maybe I am responsible, and that tip showed her she could do a lot more with her life.”
“I hope you don’t forget that the more suspicious this gets, the more I’m obliged to act,” she says.
“I hope you don’t forget that you have a pretty good career going, and that I had a hand in it.”
Colette’s gaze is stormy, but she holds back any retort. “I remember,” she says eventually.
“It’s good we cleared that up.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I have to go back tomorrow,” I tell her, finally taking the first sip of the Martini, and boy, do I need it. This is not good, not any of this. “You can come with me. I think you should tell your guy there’s nothing to see here. He doesn’t know where you are, does he?” I don’t want to have to ‘disappear’ Colette, too, that was never in the plan.
“Of course not,” she scoffs. “What do you think?”
There are secrets between lovers, and then there are secrets like the ones between friends like us. “I’m glad you came to me. You know I’ll help any way I can, and if you want, I’ll have Linda tell one of ours to look into it.”
“That won’t be necessary, thanks.” Colette gives me
a wry grin. “Thanks for the beer…and the vacation. I’ll head back home with you tomorrow.”
“I’m glad we understand each other,” I say. It’s such a relief to have friends in the right places. I’ll lay low, and neither she nor her boyfriend will dig any deeper.
To my delight—and somewhat, surprise—Penelope greets me with a hug, obviously happy to see my even though she had to take all meals by herself again. I can’t stay too long either as I have to prepare for the meeting tomorrow, but we retreat to the media room for a bit, a few minutes of news—the world outside is still ugly—and a TV show.
“I swear to you, once I’m back we’ll have that time to ourselves I keep promising you. Take a little trip with the yacht.”
Penelope does a double-take, amusement making room for her puzzled expression. I think she came to the conclusion that after everything, she shouldn’t be surprised about the yacht, at all.
“That would be awesome, but I understand. I can’t even begin to imagine what all of this costs—the money must come from somewhere.”
Of course, these days most of the money comes from profit margins and clever investment, piling up even if I don’t do all that much…but I guess it takes some skill to get to where I am, and surround myself with the right people, like Nick, Marlene, and Colette.
“We’ll be okay,” I assure her, brushing my hand over her hair, and instinctively, she draws closer. It’s somewhat of a miracle that she relented this easily, going from scared and angry to getting used to a lifestyle that’s so out of her realm of experience. I don’t take it for granted. “What did you do today?”
“You’ve been working, so I didn’t want to be lazy either,” Penelope says. “I worked on the paper…and really, thank you for all those resources. It’s amazing.”
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