Beneath The Skin(25)

I feel the presence of someone behind me. Then a voice lightly gasps in shock. “It’s a person,” I hear them whisper. “Oh my god,” another voice returns.

When the two come into view to get a look at my face—two girls holding programs or pamphlets or something—I look up at them. And to their curious, awestruck faces, I grin proudly through my ball-gag, then give them a jerk upward of my chin. “‘Sup?” I push out, despite it sounding like some random grunt.

“Beautiful,” murmurs one of them.

“Poignant,” agrees the other, nodding.

The pair of them are joined by three more—a blond guy in slacks and two women in dresses. I give them the same grunting nod and greeting. Then, for good measure, I wiggle my ass and grin even tighter, inspiring a chuckle from the guy. The two women blush and whisper something between themselves.

When I look ahead through the window, my eyes catch sight of her. Nell. She’s watching from the street.

I save my biggest, widest grin for her. I even wink.

For a moment, I think I catch a hint of her smiling back—a faint, nearly undetectable smile—before she turns and strolls away.

Score one for Brant Rudawski.





I don’t see her after my impromptu gallery debut.

It was the art gallery owner who was instructed how to free me from the cuffs at the end of the exhibit. Apparently just a tiny stupid out-of-reach latch on each cuff was all it took to keep me in place.

“Are you a model?” asked the woman after she undid my binds and I climbed off the display. “My name is Lori Turlington, owner of this gallery. I can hook you up. I have big contacts in the business.” But to her kind words, I only pulled off the ball-gag, said, “Thanks, ma’am, but no thanks,” then offered her a wink and went on my way.

After slipping my clothes back on—which had been neatly folded and kept in a back room somewhere—I pulled out my phone and called my roommate. Yeah, sure, I’m a wuss, whatever, but I’m sure as fuck not going to walk through this neighborhood alone at night.

Ten minutes later, Dmitri is giving me a tight smile as I slip into the passenger’s side. “You had a showcase and didn’t tell me?”

I glance back at the gallery with half a grin on my face and a soreness in my jaw that I’m still massaging out. “Not exactly.”

“Did you meet up with that new girl you were telling me about?”

“Yep.”

Dmitri chuckles dryly as he kicks the car into gear, pulling out onto the road. “Didn’t work out, huh? Did she turn out to be a friend of one of the six hundred exes you pissed off?”

“Nah. She just gave me … a little lesson in art,” I answer, grinning.

Dmitri nods dubiously, his gaze lingering on my face until the red light we’re at turns green. Then he pushes a foot to the gas and groans, “I really don’t feel like going back to our place.”

“Why? Oh.” I can already tell from the sight of his smirk. “Eric’s got some dude over?”

“Same dude. And they’re binge-watching Ab Fab. Hand-in-hand.”

“Why don’t you just admit there’s something between you guys?” I ask him, partly annoyed. “You act like a jealous bitch, dude.”

“No, I don’t. My eye is more occupied with someone else, actually. Eric having or not having guys at our place is irrelevant to my love life. It’s merely irksome.”

“Hah … ‘Merely irksome’ … You and your words. So who’s this new dude you’ve got your eye on?”

Pulling up to a stop sign, Dmitri puts the car into park and faces me. “You do understand that I’m bi, right?”

I shrug. “Yeah, sure. So who’s the new dude that you’re—”

“It’s a girl. She’s in my Wednesday night workshop. She’s blonde, she’s got cherry lips, and her name is Riley.”

I stare at my roommate and buddy. When is he gonna quit dancing around the bushes and just fess up? “Riley? Is that so? Why don’t you invite her over then and bury your face in her bongos?”

“Not everyone’s built like you, Brant. Some of us find other qualities in a person attractive. I ask her what sets her soul on fire, and then I dive in and bathe in it. Minds make me horny,” he says, “and if a girl—or a guy—can stimulate this puzzle-box of a brain of mine, now that’s what gets me going. Not … bongos.”

“All I’m saying is, your life would be so much easier if you’d just admit that you’re gay. Sure, okay, minds make you horny. But I think a male mind makes you hornier.”