Then there was poor, sweet, harmless Bobby. God, I had no idea why he wanted the things he wanted. He always ended a scene sobbing. I used to just shake my head at him in bewilderment. But, that man ate out every night like he was a food critic, so I didn’t toss him overboard for about a month.
But William seemed different already. Intelligent, mysterious, and even a little old-fashioned, which could be fun. Just to keep him hanging, I didn’t respond. I’d let him wait to see my reaction in person.
And the day from hell just kept getting longer. We had a lockdown during one class so that the police dogs could sniff book bags for weed. The kids in class were all tweaking—they either thought there was a terrorist in the building, or that they’d get caught with their stash.
And I was stuck in the reject room. We have this one shitty classroom that teachers rotate using because nobody wants it for the year. So, once a month, everyone has one class there. It has no windows, no Wi-Fi, and no computer, so I was without any kind of outlet for the last period of the day.
And it was “ice cream sundae Monday,” so the kids were amped up on whatever goodies they had adorned their scoop of Rocky Road with.
Too many cruddy variables for one day—something good had to come my way. Please, God, let there be justice in this world. In the form of a naked man in my bed within an hour.
“Miss Norrel, can we play Hangman?”
“Um, what?” I asked, blushing. I prayed none of my students were telepaths or tech-geeks with mind-reading iPhones. Glancing down at my sub planbook, I saw that I had scrawled a few notes on scenes I’d like to do with William. I folded my personal notebook shut and pretended I was doing legitimate teacher work.
“Hangman.”
“Go for it,” I said, waving my hand at the board. The bell was a good twenty minutes away, and most of them had done their homework, so I went back to picturing William’s body. His abs, his butt, and that glorious V that swimmers have.
I wonder if William was a swimmer, I mused as the kids played Hangman and I managed to keep all my drool in my mouth until the bell rang.
I blew through every yellow light on the way to my house.
And when I arrived home, justice was served in the form of his SUV parked neatly next to my spot. It looked cozy there, like it belonged.
I walked inside and the house was completely quiet. I knew he would be in the bedroom, so I headed into my bathroom to get changed into whatever he had picked out for me. I pushed the door open, and hanging on the shower curtain was an array of some of the loveliest garments I had ever seen.
Green and navy blue silk and satin dripped to the floor in varying degrees. Nighties both long and short hung on shiny fabric hangers. Sinuous robes hung over my towel racks. An arrangement of bras, panties, and hose sat neatly in a white wicker basket. It was nearly an entire store display, right in my home. Why so many items? And how did he know my exact size? Just as I ran my hand down the smooth material, I noticed a note, penned in exquisite handwriting.
“Reveal to me only what you choose. Show me only what I deserve to see. I await.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Cerise
Reveal to me only what you choose. Show me only what I deserve to see. I await.
I smiled at his wording. He was being very careful with me, as he should. Every sub understood that his Domme should set the pace, and even though he knew we were entering a sexual relationship, he didn’t want to assume too much.
Good.
This move empowered me and put me in the right mind-set. I couldn’t be swooning and falling all over him—what kind of message would that send? They say in the teaching world, “Don’t smile until Christmas.” Essentially, if you were a softie from the start, they had full rein to walk all over you.