“I keep meaning to get this driveway paved. It’ll be done by next week. Why didn’t George drop you off at the stairs?”
“He said he had to rush off. Maybe you’re keeping him too busy?”
He smells intoxicating; a mixture of mint, lemon, and spice. When I risk gazing up at him, his skin couldn’t be clearer, smoother, more touchable.
I can’t help but stare, enjoying the strength of his biceps around my back and under my knees, and the sound of his heart beating beneath my cheek.
“Perhaps. Still, I’ll be having words.”
“Thank you,” I say, the strange cocktail of emotions still bubbling in my stomach.
Inside the building, he sets me down on a pale marble floor. I will my legs to stand and survey the many signs of wealth: the sheer opulence in all things, from soft furnishings and curtains to bronze statues and wall art.
The attractive face of his maid appears from a room to our right.
“Good afternoon, sir, madam.”
“Hi,” I say, crossing my arms over my erect nipples.
“Kelly,” Bryce asks, “Is everything ready?”
Kelly did a little curtsy. “Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?”
“No. Help the kitchen staff and the housekeeper with the arrangements for this evening.”
“Very good, sir.” Kelly leaves, blushing, trying to avoid eye contact with me as she passes me and says, “Ma’am.”
“You live in Downton Abbey,” I think aloud.
Bryce snorts, surprising me.
He shakes his head and smiles, and it’s like the sun came out indoors, warming the atmosphere.
He checks the clock on the wall, grabs my hand, and drops his smile. “Quick, come with me.”
We travel one of the two staircases up to the second floor’s swooshing landing and face a long corridor of around twelve doors. “Where are you taking me in such a hurry?”
“To a bedroom, where else?”
“Of course.”
No wining and dining on this date.
Shit, this is moving so fast. “I’m an idiot,” I say, again without meaning to say it aloud. “Crap, I’m nervous and...”
“You’re gibbering.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t. Here we are.”
He opens the third door on our right, into the corridor, and leads me into a large, white room, plain other than a blood-red carpet and a bunch of red roses standing out on the large, white dresser.
The only window is tall and wide, but the blood-red curtains are closed tight.
“Go inside, strip, and lie face up on the bed.”
What the...?
“Really? Face up?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you going?”
There might be a queue of men waiting somewhere to use my body while he observes. No amount of money’s worth that.
“This arrangement is only between us two, no one else. Yes?”
He frowns. “Of course. I’m no pimp. Don’t worry...I’m going nowhere. I’ll be watching.”
“Oh.”
Watching me strip?
“So long as you know...no one else, and no pain. Yes?” I reiterate.
“I signed the agreement. Now come, come.” He snaps his fingers and points at the bed. “Comply.”
Oh shit, this is happening.
“Okay.”
My world becomes a blur and I kick my shoes off with another sigh of relief.
But when I grab the hem of my dress, ready to drag it up and over my head, fear really takes hold.
My mouth dries, my heart pounds, and my palms sweat. I stand up straight and glare over at Bryce, who’s taken a seat next to the bed to enjoy the show.
“What’s wrong now?” he drawls.
“I’ve never done this kind of thing before. I have never even had a one-night stand; give me a second to...to build up to it.”
“Here,” he offers me a glass of water. “Try to calm down.”
Water?
Can he smell the wine?
With a shaky hand, I take it.
“Thanks.” After a few gulps, I close my eyes and enjoy how it cools me down from inside. “Right, let’s do this.”
After setting the glass on the bedside table, I grab my hem and without thinking about it this time, I pull the dress over my head and dive on the bed, star-shaped and eyes closed. “Like this?”
“Perfect,” he says, standing over me to appreciate my whole body blush, and to see me squirm too, no doubt. “And please,” he presses a finger to my lips, “Shush. No more talking unless I wish it, yes?”
“What?” I open my eyes. “Fine.”
He walks over to the white dresser and plucks out four red silk sashes from the first drawer down.
“I’m going to restrain you for my pleasure. Do not wiggle or protest in any way. If you do, I’ll make them tighter, and you will have made me break the contract. Yes?”