“I secretly enjoyed it too,” I say. “It’s years since I’ve been. How was your day?”
“Tough meeting last night and today,” he says. “I had to do a lot of damage control. More meetings tomorrow. It will be good to be home.”
“It will be good to have you back.”
He seems distracted. He doesn’t ask if the twins are in the room or talk dirty to me or ask me if I obeyed him or threaten to punish me.
I feel a bit down when he breaks off the call. All he says is, “See you tomorrow. I had better get back to it.” I know he’s busy, but I was looking forward to speaking to him again, and for more than a discussion on meetings and roller rinks
Does he even remember what he told me to do?
I don’t know.
*
By the time Friday night rolls around, I feel both anxious about his return and silly doing something that he only mentioned once, so I don’t wear my carefully laundered and pressed red dress or leave off my panties.
The minute I hear his key in the door, I wonder if I made a mistake.
“You didn’t wear your red dress,” he says, as he kisses me hello, a soft brush of his lips on my cheek. “Everything okay with the twins?”
“Yes, they’re fine.”
“Am I in the doghouse, then?”
“I thought you were kidding.”
“I wasn’t. Not about your dress and not about the panties or punishment, either.” His eyes grow dark looking at me and his mood has switched to exactly how it was on the phone, except now he is right here beside me.
If it was anyone but Reid, I might feel threatened by the darkness in his eyes, the commanding tone of his words. But I know what he wants, and I’m sure it’s not to do me harm. Far from it.
I can hardly breathe. “I could put my dress on now.”
“Bring it here,” he says, his voice low and rough.
I know exactly where the red dress is, given I’ve been taking it in and out of the closet all evening wondering if I should wear it or not.
I go upstairs to fetch it and take it back to the hall.
“I want to see you in it,” he says. “Put it on.”
I gasp. He can’t mean…
“Yes, I mean here.”
“The kids…”
“I assume they are asleep, otherwise they’d have come bounding down here to say hello.”
“What if they wake up?”
“You’d better get into it, then, before they do.”
He takes the dress from me and stands back, his eyes on mine. I can’t help wanting to do as he says, to feel the thrill of following his instructions, the slight shame in the submissiveness of it, of unbuttoning my blouse in front of him and letting him watch. I take it off and leave it on the chair by the hall table.
I’m acutely conscious of everything, the soft light from the lamp, the scent of the flowers in a vase on the glass surface, the matte cream surface of the walls, the bright artwork. It’s as if I’m in slow motion moving toward whatever fate has in store. My nipples are poking through the thin satiny fabric of my bra, begging for attention. I know I’m wet.
I undo the button and zipper on my jeans and slide them down my legs, stepping out of them. I don’t bother to pick them up.
I reach toward him for the dress, but he grabs my hand and won’t let me take what I want. “And the rest.” His voice is quiet, almost growly.
My sharp intake of breath doesn’t deter him. He doesn’t move, just looks at me as if he expects me to comply, not taking his eyes from me.
I feel my pulse in my throat. Can he can see it? Is he even looking there? Is he holding his breath, as I am?
Heart thudding, I reach behind and unhook my bra, then gradually pull the straps from my shoulders. I hardly dare let go. But he’s watching me closely. “I’m waiting,” he says, softly. So I let the bra fall away from my breasts to the ground.
“Beautiful,” he says.
“My dress…”
“Not yet. You haven’t finished. Do this for me, Holly. Like I asked.”
His encouragement gives me permission. I hook my fingers in the sides of my panties and slowly push them down to my thighs and then down farther to my knees where they fall in a pool at my feet and I step out of them. I am naked for him.
“Hand me your panties,” he says.
I bend to retrieve them from the floor and hand them over to him. I can feel my face scarlet and I’m panting a little, as if I just ran for a bus. But I haven’t moved from the spot in the hall for what feels like an hour, though it can be no more than a few minutes.
“Now then.” He puts the dress over my head and helps me into it. I stand there feeling the cool fabric against my hard nipples, the air between my legs making me aware of my nakedness beneath the dress.