The young man nodded. “Mr. Gentry is a patron here.”
“I sometimes buy artwork for my facilities,” William confessed.
Those were some spoiled old people.
“Is this for them?” I asked.
He took my chin in his hand. “No, it’s for you. I’m thinking the big, blank wall across from your bed,” he growled softly after the attendant had taken a check.
“Th-thank you,” I stuttered.
He tipped his mouth to my forehead for a soft kiss. “Anything for you. In fact, as penance, I’ve prepared a special scene for you tomorrow. I know it’s the weekend, but—”
“I accept,” I said, feeling giddy. Erin would understand if I had to reschedule our tea for Sunday.
William and I smiled at each other, and prepared to leave. Our departure was nervous and chaste, like we really were on a first date. He took my hand with tentative fingers, as though I would reject him. Like we had never fucked on a piano or anything. But, you know what? The cool, smooth kiss he gave me on my forehead did more to my hormones than the thought of Johnny Depp tied to a mast.
There was no doubt in my mind anymore—I wanted more Chilly Willy.
I knew that no matter what happened, things would get even more interesting from here on.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
William
There’s the last of it, I thought to myself as I hung up the final Christmas decoration. It was a sprig of mistletoe—one long twig of it, scattered with festive leaves and berries.
It was surprisingly easy to find Christmas decorations at this time of the year. I wasn’t going to use the ones belonging to my family because Breanna logs and categorizes every seasonal piece of décor we have, and then puts them away—alphabetized—in plastic tubs that are color-coded according to each holiday.
Needless to say, while our stock of family ornaments and tinsel was tasteful and plentiful, I would rather not disturb my niece’s OCD filing system and instead just hit up the Dollar Tree. Nestled in a mini-mall down the street from the main shopping center, I found a store with a treasure trove of past-season goods. I had never considered shopping here before, but now that I perused the aisles, I found myself intrigued and somewhat disgusted.
Mainly, they sold out-of-date holiday paraphernalia and past-expiration snacks. I grabbed a box of Little Debbie holiday tree cakes, noticing the 2007 date on the back. I shuddered at what these confections may do to my Cerise’s tummy, and put them back.
I left the store with armloads of garland, candy canes, and festive goodies.
I opted out of the Santa costume. I wanted my mistress pleased, not creeped out. I felt my body stir involuntarily at the thought of what my Domme would do to me today. She was out doing her weekend grocery shopping so I could set up the scene alone.
When I arrived at Cerise’s house, I took great care in moving her bedroom furniture to the spare room. I had the routine down now, although at first, cramming two rooms of furniture together seemed like a daunting puzzle. Once her bedroom was again a clean slate for me, I got to work decorating.
Soon, Cerise would arrive home to an office Christmas party, per her lesson plans. I had e-mailed her last night that our scene would involve her playing the part of “the boss’s wife.” I loved the opportunity to improvise with her.
My mistress was an outstanding actress. It pleased me endlessly that she enjoyed the fun prompts, and each time she would find some clever way to control me.
When I told my friend Melissa about my arrangement with Cerise, she was shocked by the workings of our relationship.