by Cecilia Tan
“He’s not in at the moment.”
Wren had a sudden thought. “Is this Diana?”
“It is. Is this Ms. Delacourt?”
“It is.” Wren blinked. “He told you my name?”
“Under strict confidentiality, I assure you, ma'am,” Diana said. “He was up all night at the hospital. I finally forced him to go home and get some sleep. I turned his phone off when he wasn’t looking. I planned to go wake him up around six.”
“Oh. You don’t have to do that. I could do it. He and I are supposed to go somewhere tonight.” Wren wondered how much Diana knew about their plans.
“Do you have a key to his place?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Come by the office and I'll give you one.”
Wren soon found herself face to face with Diana, who had some sort of paperwork spread all over the office’s main desk and a large pot of coffee sitting on the percolator. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and despite wearing a baggy sweatshirt and jeans, she exuded a decidedly feminine aura of authority. She had dark circles under her eyes as she smiled to greet Wren. Then she went into a side office Wren hadn’t even noticed the first time she’d been there and rummaged in the desk, then came back out with a keychain shaped like a dinosaur.
But instead of just handing it to her, Diana sat down in the same chair Derek had sat in and looked up at Wren tiredly until Wren sat, too.
“Derek really-really-really likes you,” she began. “Neither of us slept much last night, and most of what we did while not sleeping was talk. That is to say he talked, about you, while I listened.”
“Oh.”
Diana gave Wren a motherly smile, though she didn’t look old enough to actually be Wren’s mother. “I’ve known Derek for several years now. He’s a good guy, but he’s had rotten luck with women. Or maybe just rotten women.”
“I know he proposed to a girl in college,” Wren said. “But it didn’t work out. She left him, but he blames himself.”
Diana nodded. “That sounds like him. He was celibate for a long time, that much I know. And then he had a girlfriend for a while, when we first met, who was sort of a gold digger, except she wasn’t really in it for the money, but for the drama. She didn’t really care about him per se. She kind of... got off on him talking about his dead parents and wanting to 'be there' for him when he needed her. I think she was disappointed he didn’t wake up sobbing in the middle of the night every night. And as far as I can tell, they almost never had sex. She was a withholder, for sure.”
“A withholder?”
“You know. Always withholding it from him as a way to control him. Like a carrot on a stick, except she never rewarded him with the carrot. And he’s just... not the type to beg, you know? Then there was nobody for a long time, and the next one was the total opposite. She couldn’t have cared less about how he felt about her. She just... well, this is going to sound crude, but I heard nearly the same thing come out of both of their mouths at different points. She was only interested in him because he had a big dick. And because he never said no. Never said he was too tired or didn’t feel like it. So she was another one who just bossed him around, but in the opposite way as the previous one.” Diana shook her head. “And there was a string of women he met through blind dates, personal ads, Internet dating sites, none of which lasted beyond a single night. He gave that up, too.”
Wren shrank down in her chair. God, does he think I’m a nympho, insatiable? Am I too pushy? No one’s ever accused me of being pushy before...
“And now there’s you,” Diana said, her voice kind rather than accusing. “He’s over the moon about you, you know.”
“He’s... I like him really a lot, too,” Wren said. “I... have a similar string of first dates. I’m just... I’m worried about him.”
Diana put the dinosaur into Wren’s hand and closed her fingers over it. “Worried how?”
“I think... I think he’s a little afraid of me.”
Diana chuckled. “Of course he is. He’s afraid he'll wake up one morning and you'll turn out to be just as bad as the others. But that’s nothing to do with you. Aren’t you afraid of the same thing?”
Wren looked up at her. “I... I guess I am. I think... I think maybe we’re both afraid of screwing it up.”
Diana stood. “I don’t know if it helps to say this but... try not to let that become a self-fulfilling prophecy, all right? Don’t be so afraid that you rob yourself of the chance to do it right. I know, I know—easy for me to say, not so easy to do. But I said it to him last night, and I’m saying it to you, now.”
Wren stood and smiled, imagining Diana admonishing Derek not to be afraid. “I'll go get changed for the party and then go wake him up,” she said. “And thanks. I'll... we'll try to make things work out.”
When she got back in the car, though, her optimism sagged. Diana didn’t know the other reasons why Derek might be wary of her, did she? Probably not. She couldn’t imagine Derek telling her that his girlfriend could force him to come without touching him.
She had to talk to him, but at the same time it was getting close to party time, and she dreaded trying to either rush through the conversation or going to the party without figuring out some things about how they felt about each other.
She sat with her head leaning against the steering wheel until he forehead began to hurt. Wait a second. If the main reason we’re going to the club is to look for Abby...
Why couldn’t she go and ask around for herself? She wouldn’t even have to lie. I’m looking for my flaky sister who got burned out of her apartment a couple of months ago and I heard a rumor she might be working here. And if Abby was there, and she found her, she could certainly find out from her whether Mrs. Riggs might have been there, too.
Yes, that made perfect sense. Didn’t it?
She tried to call Derek again, but again it went straight to voice mail. Right. Didn’t Diana say she turned his phone off?
Wren imagined waking him up with the news that she’d found her sister and Helena Riggs. All the trouble would be over and then she could make up with him with a clear head.
Wren started the engine and headed for the club.
THE PARKING LOT WAS empty when she pulled in, but she continued around behind the building and found four cars parked in the back. That seemed like a good sign. Surely some workers were there early to set up? She parked and was about to put her phone into her purse when she realized they might be suspicious of the camera on her phone. She put her purse and phone into the glove compartment and shut it, then got out of the car, stuffing her keys in her jacket pocket.
There was an unmarked door at the top of a small set of stairs, next to a loading bay that was closed. She pulled on the handle and the door opened.
“Hello?” she called.
No answer. She went a little deeper in, wondering how far she would have to go before she reached one of the rooms she had been in before. She was in a service hallway, the paint drab and cracked, a fluorescent tube flickering overhead. Various doors lined the hall on one side.
She knocked on the first one she came to. “Hello? Hello?”
The door was pulled in abruptly and she found herself face to face with a man. He was bare-chested and barefoot, wearing just black track pants. His skin was the color of creamy coffee and his hair was hidden under a black bandanna. He looked her up and down. “Can I help you?”
“Um, no. I’m looking for somebody who works here.” Wren smiled and tried to look harmless.
He shifted from foot to foot. “Yeah, well, um, the guys don’t really get here for another hour or so...”
Guys? "No no, my sister. Abby. Although she might be using a nickname or something.”
“Abby isn’t already a nickname?” His look of suspicion deepened.
“Er, well, yes, but...” She took a deep breath and tried to stay focused. “Are there some other people I could talk to? It’s really important that I find her.” But, well, it wa
sn’t exactly, and it came out sounding like a lie to Wren. Apparently it sounded that way to him, too, as he cocked his head and looked at her askance.
He seemed to make some kind of decision. “Come on.”
He led her through what was clearly a dressing room into a small lounge area. The couches were draped with sheets, but it looked more like a backstage area than one of the public rooms Wren had seen before. “Wait here,” he said, and then closed the door behind him.
Wren sat on the edge of one of the couches, looking around the small room. There were two dressing room mirrors attached to the wall opposite her, one horizontal at about the height of her head and one upright. For checking make-up and costumes? There was another door facing the one she’d come through, and she guessed it must lead out to the public areas.
She sighed, hoping that the guy was going to get some other employees for her to talk to. This would be so much easier, she thought, if she just could have been reading his mind from the start. Maybe she should have masturbated in the car before coming in. She wasn’t certain that would work, but it seemed as if it ought to.
She clenched her thighs. Just how aroused did she have to be for it to work? She slipped off her jacket and laid it aside, brushing her hands over her blouse. Oh, that might be too visible, but then, did she care if some guy stared at her tits if she got the answers she was looking for?
She rubbed her hand over her mons through her skirt, a frustratingly unsatisfying touch, but the frustration only seemed to arouse her faster.
The man who'd greeted her burst in. “I knew it.” He grabbed her by the arm. “All right, come on. Let’s get this over with.”
Wren reached out, but her sight hadn’t sharpened yet. She couldn’t sense his thoughts really, but he was exuding a feeling of giving in to what she wanted. His grip was tight on her arm as he marched her through the other door and into a room set with what looked like the tables in the gynecologist’s office. He threw a sheet over one of them and pulled her into a sitting position atop it.
It was only when he strapped her wrists in place with wide, heavy leather straps that she began to think there was some misunderstanding. “What are you doing?”
“Just be patient,” he said, an exasperated edge to him. “It’s a pain when people show up early. And I don’t know you, so I can’t be too careful.”
“But, but I....” While she tried to make sense of what he was saying, trying to reconcile it with the emotions she read from him—resignation, annoyance, disdain, a tinge of disgust—he pushed her back and strapped her ankles into the stirrups. One of his fingers slipped under the edge of her now-exposed panties and he ran the back of his fingernail up and down under the edge of the cloth.
“Wow. You’re dripping for it already.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’d do you myself, but I don’t have the knack that Evan does, and you’d just be back in a couple of hours begging for more.”
“Who's Evan? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t act like a nut job,” he said as he secured a blindfold around her eyes. She could feel a wave of dismissal in his feelings, but also a strangely sweet thread of kindness. “You'll get banned and then where would you be? I’ve seen what happens and it isn’t pretty.” She could feel him considering, then felt something hard and rubber being pressed between her lips. “Come on, here you go. Now you won’t say anything crazy.”
He thought he was doing her a favor, protecting her. That feeling came through clearly and she was so surprised by it, she opened her mouth and let him put the gag in place.
The door closed. Obviously he thought she had come here seeking sex of some kind? The truth was the opposite. She’d come here to avoid having to have sex here later, but there was no arguing that point now.
She would have to let Evan, whoever that was, arouse her more, and then she could speak directly to his mind about what was going on. Meanwhile she counted the seconds, then the minutes, while she waited.
At last she heard the door open.
“And did you get her name?” A man's voice, almost familiar, like a voice she heard in commercials or something.
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t recognize her, Evan, but it seemed obvious enough to me what she wanted.”
“Thank you, Ramon. You may leave me to it.”
The door closed again, and Wren flinched as she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Sh, shh,” he said, close to her ear. “No need to be afraid. Everything will feel much much better very soon.” His hand brushed down over her blouse, circling one nipple until it stood hard against the fabric. “You must forgive Ramon. He thinks all you need is a cock inside you.” He clucked his tongue. “Didn’t even bother to undress you. He fails to understand that you crave something more than just a full cunt. Which is exactly why you come to me.”
Wren felt the buttons being opened on her blouse, then the open air on her breasts. His mouth was shockingly hot after the cool air, and his tongue rasped over one nipple, then the other. She moaned around the gag.
“Yes, it’s good, isn’t it?” Then she felt something hard against the inner side of her thigh, cold like metal, and then there was a tugging on her underwear, and a tearing sound. Had he just cut away her panties with a knife?
His fingers massaged the wet flesh there, spreading her lips and dipping just barely into the opening. She tried reaching out again, focusing her thoughts and trying to hear his. She would have to convince him that he wasn’t hallucinating, wasn’t just hearing voices...
Can you hear me? Stop, please stop, it’s all a mistake.
She heard his voice answer, as clear as a bell in her mind, even as she heard the sound of his belt buckle being undone. Now, now, none of that. You'll feel better and everything will be much clearer in a little while.
Wren was stunned. She knew that voice. She hadn’t quite recognized it with her ears, but in her head she felt the shock go through her whole body. Her dream lover. This was him in the flesh. It’s you!
Of course it is. The head of his cock nosed at her opening, as he coated the head with her juices. Then she heard the sound of something tearing—a condom wrapper? Yes, as the head returned, feeling cold this time.
No, no, no! You must believe me. I didn’t come here for sex. I’m just trying to find my missing sister.
She read the flicker of disbelief clearly, and the knowledge behind it. Sometimes women convinced themselves that they were coming to Evan for some other reason. Sometimes quite ludicrous reasons. They could not admit they had become addicted to sex with him, and their minds invented delusions. He haunted their dreams, and after sleeping with him some women could find no pleasure in any other lover. It didn’t happen to every woman, but maybe one out of ten or twenty...
But I’ve never had sex with you before! His fingers brushed over her clit as he teased her with the head even more, then slid it up and down over her clit hood. He began to thrust rhythmically, rubbing the head of his cock against her clit. She could feel her own orgasm building, even though she didn’t much want to come. Well, she did. Her body did. But her mind was still in rebellion, even as she could feel his intention to take her to the very edge of orgasm before he would plunge his cock into her and open his mind to her in one coordinated moment.
She tried again. You said you wouldn’t until I was ready, until I begged you to!
That got a reaction, the mental equivalent of a double-take. Finally, his question. Who are you?
It’s Wren! Wren Delacourt. You've been visiting me in my dreams...
Quite abruptly, she found the blindfold lifted and she was staring up at a man with long auburn hair. It fell in curly waves partway down his chest. He reached up and unbuckled the gag, and let it fall, but he continued to speak to her with his mind. So you’re Wren.
He was thinking that he hadn’t known dreams could actually draw her there. His hand ran down her breastbone until his thumb could slip to the side and circle her nipple again. You’re trem
bling with need, Wren. And so am I.
Please don’t. That isn’t why I came here. I’m just looking for my sister, Abby.
Ah, Abby, yes. He pulled back from her then, physically and mentally, so quickly it left her breathless and feeling a chill. She hadn’t known it was possible to cut someone off mentally before. “If you'll excuse me,” he said aloud, then wrapped his hand around his cock. “We have much to discuss, but I have a pressing need of my own. I'll go find your sister now, in fact.”
He was still stroking himself when he left the room. And Wren was still strapped down, unable to move.
NINE
IN THE SILENCE SHE stretched out her senses, listening, and listening. But her heart wouldn’t settle, and her thoughts beat against the insides of her skull like a moth in a jar. She tried to take a deep breath, but it was hard to relax with her legs spread and her own juices dripping.
Evan had to be a telepath, too, that much was obvious. And Abby was here? His final words had made it sound as if he was going to get off with Abby’s assistance. So why had he been trying to seduce Wren in her dreams? Had Abby told him about her? If Evan had been wanting to meet her, why hadn’t Abby just called and asked her to come over and meet him?
Because, Wren thought, this situation was clearly highly fucked up. And Derek was asleep at home with his phone turned off. And her own was in her glove compartment.
She tried to imagine him, lying asleep in his bed, his hair over his eyes. She tried to imagine lying there next to him, dripping wet, stroking him to hardness, and then whispering to him, Derek. It’s time. I need you.
In her vision, his eyes opened and fixed on her, wide and slightly shocked.
“Okay, up you go.” It was Ramon, and he removed her blindfold. “Need you to see where you’re going.”
He undid her wrist straps and moved her into a sitting position, then bound her wrists together behind her back. She looked into his thoughts; he had no suspicion of anything wrong, anyway. It was fairly normal for him to tie people up and not to think much of it. He didn’t question the orders he had been given, and he was good with ropes. The thought that Wren might not have been a fully willing participant never even entered his mind. “Come on,” he said, and helped her to her feet. “Leave your shoes. Let’s go.”