by Cee Smith
“Knowing you, you wouldn’t be able to wait. In less than an hour you’d probably be finger-fucking yourself beneath your desk.”
His lips soaked up my moan and still he pumped harder, hitting my clit with an open palm as he burrowed inside me.
I broke off our kiss, whimpering his name, smothering it into his neck so poor Catherine wouldn’t be traumatized by the things that really went on behind that closed door. His thumb was the trigger detonating my orgasm with just the brush of his skin against mine. With searing teeth, I clamped down on his lips, releasing the swelling energy that threatened to break free from my vocal chords.
“Good girl.” He smiled that mischievous smile, cocky with how easily he could manipulate my body. “Now, I think you said you have some work to catch up on.”
“You can’t dismiss me. I was already leaving.”
“You scared the shit out of me!” I fully entered my apartment, chucking the keys on the counter as I stared down at Teagan in her underwear. Clothes lay strewn about the living room with the music blaring. I could hear her singing clear down the hall, so I wasn’t surprised that she was startled by my appearance.
“I take it you weren’t expecting me?”
Work clothes spilled from her arms as she bundled them up from the floor. She quickly dressed, pulling her shirt over her head, the tag visible from where I stood across the room.
“Your shirt’s inside out,” I smiled and pointed.
“It’s Thursday. What are you doing here? I thought you would be with Suit.”
“Yeah, well Suit has other plans.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows sloped, making her look more concerned than I’d felt when Everett so easily dismissed our plans earlier. “Did he tell you what these plans were? Or is he still acting all mysterious? I mean you guys are kind of dating now, right?”
“I don’t know what we are. We’ve been seeing each other outside of both the club and work for weeks now, but I haven’t asked and he hasn’t specified.”
“You didn’t ask after your vacation this weekend?”
“That wasn’t exactly a vacation. That was work.”
“You said he didn’t need to invite you though.”
“He didn’t. I’m still not quite sure why he brought me over to his mother’s house.”
“This is getting ridiculous, Indigo. You’ve been seeing this man for months and you’re no more sure of where you stand than the night you met him. What are you scared of? Because the Indigo I know would never go for this.”
“I know. I fucking hate it. I’m scared of knowing and not knowing. Everything feels so goddamn fragile, like just by thinking the idea of becoming more might scare him away. I think he’s scared to let me in. Hell, I think he’s scared to let anyone in.”
“You deserve to know, Indigo. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
“Did you read that in a Hallmark card?”
“I do have a sensitive side, you know.”
“Yeah, sensitive side of your ass, which is the only sensitive part of you any man sees.”
“Hey, I’m not the one with the spanking fetish.”
Her words made my face heat. Even after weeks spent going to the club and seeing all manners of debauchery members engaged in, it was still embarrassing. Seeing as how I gave Teagan very few details, she probably had her own preconceived ideas of what went on beyond the doors of Fetish.
“Anyway,” I said changing the subject, “I know I’m hopeless if I’m taking dating advice from you.”
My keys stood out against the white granite of our counters like a beacon of light guiding my thoughts to what I needed to do. I swore to myself I wouldn’t go back there, not again, not like before. Uninvited.
Snatching my keys back up, I tossed them between my hands as I struggled with my indecision.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m debating popping over to his house and demanding answers.”
“I thought you’ve never been to his house before?”
I turned away from her, afraid she would see the answer to her question. The lie that would so readily fall from my lips.
“Indigo. You didn’t. Invasion of the bodysnatchers, who are you? And what have you done with my friend? Should I be worried about you?”
“Save your concern for when I get back. If this doesn’t go well, I’ll need you later.”
“How do you even know he’ll be home?”
I shrugged my shoulders and focused on a scuff on my shoe.
“Jesus, Indigo—”
“No. I swear it’s not like that. I found that out at work. It’s not my fault I could hear him through his door. It was totally unintentional.”
“Suuuuure. If he hasn’t told you where he lives, I don’t know how receptive he’ll be to the idea you know where he lives, but if this will give you the answers you need then I can’t argue. This conversation has been long overdue.”
With that, I tucked my keys in my pocket and readjusted my purse.
I was leaving with answers. One way or another.
Thursday, November 12th Continued
Nannies pushed strollers down the sidewalks, delivering kids back to their houses before their parents got home from work. Across the street, I could see patrons lined up inside the coffee shop. Espresso machines released steam like locomotives. I looked at the faces of strangers, hoping to see the mirror image of what I felt boiling inside. That feeling that churned your belly right before you vomited began circling inside me. A mosh pit of riotous emotions threw themselves against my stomach, and I staggered down the street, each step feeling like a tidal wave meant to take me down. Or at the very least, stop me in my tracks.
Standing at the corner of 8th and Mercer, I looked up at his building. What awaited me up there? A violent wind whipped down the block, freeing loose strands from my sloppy braid. I battled my hair, tucking the hair that framed my face behind my ears.
“Indigo?”
Fuck.
My heart kick-started, galloping so fast I choked on my pulse. I didn’t turn to see the man who called my name. It wasn’t often I prayed. OK, maybe never. I never prayed, but right there outside Everett’s apartment, I prayed. Going to his home was a mistake. I realized it with the sound of Oaken’s voice still echoing through my skull. Maybe if I stayed there long enough, unmoved by his recognition of me, he would go away. I played deaf with the hope that would work.
It didn’t.
I was still vacant when he took hold of my arm and pivoted me to face him.
“Oaken!” I burst with excitement that seemed to explode from me. Looking around, I searched for a reason for being there. The coffee shop. I was going to the coffee shop.
“Indigo? What a pleasant surprise. Everett didn’t say you would be joining us.”
“Oh. Everett lives here?” I turned and looked at the building. Looking up at all five stories like it was the goddamned Empire State Building. My hands even flew around animatedly as I pointed at the exact building we stood in front of.
“No. I wasn’t…you’re meeting Everett?”
Over his shoulder, I looked at the coffee shop and the steam rising from frothed milk that seemed to mock me. If only I’d chosen to pass the time with a warm cup of coffee or one of those cute little petite croissants, maybe I wouldn’t have been in the predicament I found myself in.
“You must join us. Please.” He followed my line of sight behind him. For a brief moment, I was sure he would offer me an out, a pardon to his invitation so I could be blown back down the street with the wind. Luck wasn’t on my side, and it only got worse as he hooked his arm in mine and dragged me to the door.
“You don’t have to stay, but come say hello. I’m sure Everett will be just as pleased to see you as I am.”
Which was louder—the sound of my stammering heart or my lungs working like a ventilator? Every inhalation sounded like a foghorn in the quietude of the elevator. He dropped my arm as we entered, allowing me the ab
ility to curl in on myself. By the time we arrived on the fourth floor I was little more than the wad of gum fused to the metal from years of failed attempts at prying it off. The elevator dinged our arrival, sounding more chipper about arriving at our destination than either of us could have ever been. Oaken was too suave. In fact, the most excitement I’d ever seen from him seemed to revolve around his interactions with me. On any ordinary day I might have been able to express jubilation about seeing Everett, or better yet, being invited to his home, but I couldn’t see him like this.
This was not the plan, my mind screamed with every step toward the oak door at the end of hall with gold numbers I once traced with eager fingers.
We stood in front of the door, and for the first time I noticed the bottle of wine clutched beneath Oaken’s other arm. The door swung open and it wasn’t his intended guest that caught Everett’s attention. It was the uninvited one. Me.
“Everett. Look who I found outside,” he said like I was some mangy cat he found in the street gutter who needed a loving home. By the look in his eyes, I could tell the loving home wasn’t here. He eyed me suspiciously before focusing his attention on Oaken.
“Come in.” He waved us in. Oaken walked in first, and as I passed Everett in the doorway, he looked down at me with those eyes that said I was in deep shit.
“I just happened to be in the neighborhood—” My rushed whisper was cut off.
“Get in here. Now. I’ll deal with you later.”
With the shut of his door, Mr. Belford returned, perfectly composed, unaffected by the unexpected monkey wrench in their plans.
“Give me just a second to call and adjust our order.”
His eyes cut to me, and while Oaken nodded his head, I tried to stop Everett mid-dial, “Honestly, Everett, I had plans. I just told Oaken I’d come up for a second to say hello.”
“Well, now I insist you stay.”
“Yes. Stay. Have dinner with us.”
Did I roll my eyes at Oaken? Oops. It was just, he was too accommodating. All I wanted to do was flee with what little of my pride remained, and he was making that very difficult. I gritted my teeth and painted on a fake smile while making my way into the living room of his loft.
I looked up from the spot where Oaken set the bottle down and caught the shaded look pass over Everett’s face. Was I the hunter or the hunted? Most days I wasn’t sure, but even more so when he looked at me like that.
Curling my hands together in my lap, I made like that little piece of gum again as conversation swirled around me. Both men weren’t having it though. Oaken asked more personal questions about my childhood and schooling, while Everett peppered me with interest-related questions. Safe questions. Small talk that made him look like the most gracious host—like someone actually interested in the irrelevant answers. It was filler talk meant to hold us over until he could ask the questions he really wanted the answers to. Questions like, what was I doing there and how did I know where he lived?
Two hours and two glasses of wine later I was counting the moments until Oaken decided he’d had enough for one night. I knew it was coming. Conversation had dwindled and his legs twitched as if he was waiting for the right moment to announce his departure.
Fuck.
He rose from the couch and stretched his arms. His “I’m leaving” couldn’t have been louder if he’d grabbed his coat and opened the door.
“Alright, you two, I better head out. Everett.”
“I should probably head out too. I’ll walk you down.” I stood so fast, my body tilted with vertigo. Everett caught my elbow. “Actually, while I have you for a sec, I wanted to discuss that project we’ve been working on.” That was code for, not so fast.
I offered a weak smile at Oaken, displaying every bit the sulking child I felt.
We all said our goodbyes and then it was just Everett and me, alone, without a buffer. No work. No club. No well-meaning clients. Nothing.
The door snapped shut, foreboding in the subtle click of the lock being turned. Still standing in front of his couch, I watched him prowl toward me. He looked me up and down like prey caught in his snare and he was deciding on his method of torture.
“You have some explaining to do, little Indigo—”
“I don’t know why. I swear it was just a coincidence. I didn’t even know you lived here until Oaken pointed it out.”
“You’re going to go upstairs, and you’re not leaving here until I have some answers…some honest ones.”
The heat of his body simmered through the back of my blouse, his breath on my neck fanning the flames between us.
“Upstairs. Now.”
His words lanced me like a whip, and I scurried over to the staircase. This time I didn’t dawdle, sweeping my hands across the cold steel, touching the very place I imagined his hands held every day.
Unsure of what to do once I got to the second floor, I walked to the window overlooking the park. The bench wasn’t vacant like the last time when I was there. A mother sat down while her son played nearby. With a figurine in each hand, he crashed them together midair while watching in glee as flimsy plastic pieces popped off into the grass.
“You remember what I said at the hotel?”
The boy in the courtyard searched for the scattered pieces, while I searched my memory for the words Everett wanted me to recall.
“Your face tells me everything, precious.”
I hadn’t realized how close he was until his hand reached out—his knuckle drifting down the side of my face until he met my jawline. His finger hooked beneath my jaw, drawing my face to his while he spoke, “You have some things you need to say to me. You have for some time. I think it’s time for some talk therapy. Take off your clothes.”
Everett stepped away from the window, and I heard when he sat down on the bed behind me. I knew he was watching, waiting for me to accept what was bound to happen. If not that night, then at some later point in time. The look in his eyes said he wasn’t giving up so easily. Well, neither was I.
I stripped down, secure in my resolve to keep everything bottled up. My answers would have to wait for another day when we were on equal footing. When I wasn’t strong-armed into seeing Everett, before I had my thoughts completely figured out. I would tell Everett when I was good and well ready.
He patted his thighs, signaling just where he wanted me. I climbed up with my head as high as someone’s could be who was about to receive a spanking.
“I want to cover a few things before we get started.” He began petting my spine as if I were a cat with a luxurious coat. “I’m not angry or upset. You can tell me anything, Indigo. You’re safe here. What is your safeword?”
“Director.”
His palm curved around the fullness of my ass. Fingers tapped a rhythm against my flesh, a feeling that reminded me of a coin rolling across knuckles. The measured taps ceased, and stillness descended over the room.
Heat flooded my skin as a cracking sound split the air. I shifted my knees, accepting the sting of pain. Everett waited for me to still. I took a deep breath and waited for the next one—lips still sealed. The next one came just as steady as the first. With vibrating skin, I welcomed the pinch of pain.
“You’re safe here, Indigo. You can tell me anything.”
Smack.
Deep breath.
“Let go of it. Release the burden.”
His words scratched at something. I battened down the hatches. I was a fortress—strong and impenetrable.
Smack.
Deep breath.
“You came to my home. I’m sure this isn’t the first time. What were you looking for—”
“I told you! I didn’t come here.”
Soothing hands rubbed my throbbing skin, seeking, encouraging. His touch was a balm I didn’t want. Not if it came with me baring my soul. “It’s a bit narcissistic to think anyone that steps on your street corner is here to see you.”
I expected a resounding crack on the ass, but again he wa
ited. Then he resumed spanking me with a measured hand just like before.
“I think I deserve your honesty, Indigo. I’ve never lied to you.”
“I can’t,” I whispered as the first tear squeezed from my tear ducts.
“You can. We can do this for as long as it takes.”
His words were no louder than my own whisper. He spoke to me like he would a bird with a broken wing, coaxing me to lean on him for support.
“I needed to kn-know.”
“Know what?” he cooed.
“That there is more here.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Us. I want more of us.” Those words were the doors that opened up the floodgates. I burrowed my head into his leg, hiding the flood of tears that poured out.
“That’s it, Indigo. Let it out.”
“There are these moments we have. Moments when I think you want something more. That we could be something more. But those moments aren’t enough, Everett. I need more.”
He flipped me over, clutching me tight to his chest while I hid my face in his neck. His comfort blanketed me, shutting out the thoughts of what my admission could mean for our future. I was no longer shackled by the truth of the things I wanted from him.
“You have more to tell me, but that’s enough for tonight. Thank you for your honesty.”
I didn’t know how much time passed sitting there on his lap while he rubbed my back and quieted me like a fussy baby. For the first time, both of our walls were down and a quiet peace settled in the absence of the chaos I’d been battling.
Friday, November 13th
“You know the surprise I spoke about yesterday? I was actually going to invite you to my home. The only difference is I would have given you my address, which would have been redundant seeing as how you already knew where I lived.”
I’d been thinking about the events of the night from the moment I left his house. After what felt like the longest ride home, I spent the hour thereafter relaying the events of the night to Teagan. As if I wasn’t aware of the clusterfuck I found myself in, Tea’s silence demonstrated how much of a colossal mistake it all was.