by Logan Belle
“They’re professional models. I don’t want them. I want you.”
“I’ll stick to reading for the fiction award. That should give us plenty to work on together.” She laughed uncomfortably. He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. Her heart started pounding so hard she felt something might be wrong with her.
“Did you look at the Bettie Page book?”
“A little,” she said, blushing at the memory of what she had done afterward. And then she was unbalanced by the thought of Sebastian’s touching her the way she had touched herself alone in her room that night.
“Have you thought about what I asked you at dinner? What does Bettie Page have in those photographs that none of these women have?”
Was this a trick question? Regina did a mental checklist: Bangs? Boobs? A retro bathing suit?
“I don’t know.”
“Mirth,” he said. “She looks like she is having fun. She’s every woman, and yet she’s like no other. She had a duality of innocence and sexiness that has never been replicated. But I see it in you.”
“It’s just the haircut,” Regina said quietly.
“A million girls have the haircut,” he said. “And why can’t you take a compliment?”
“I just don’t get why you’re so focused on me. It’s not that I’m being modest or something. I just don’t get it.”
“You looked so beautiful, and helpless, and lost on the stairs of the library. Watching you was like seeing the opening sequence of a movie in which you know the actress is going to be a star. And then I talked to you and . . . I felt something. And I know you felt it, too, didn’t you?”
She nodded slowly. Of course she’d felt something. She knew he was the most beautiful man she’d ever set eyes on. But more than that, his physical proximity made her feel shaky inside. It had happened when he’d handed her back her thermos lid on the library steps, and it had happened when she’d sat near him after the Young Lions meeting. And when he’d stood behind her just minutes ago as she looked at the nude photographs, the slight touch of his body against her back had made something twitch deep inside of her.
She shifted in her shoes. The arches of her feet ached, and her toes were pinching at the front. “Do you mind if I take these shoes off?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I do. And I never want to see you in flats again.”
She looked at him, speechless.
He took the glass of wine from her hands. “Come with me,” he said.
She followed him back to the living room.
Sebastian sat on the black couch. She stood awkwardly, waiting for him to invite her to sit down as well.
“Should I just . . . sit over there?” she asked, gesturing to a black leather chair.
“No. You will stand. You’re a beautiful woman, Regina. Not a girl—a woman. It’s unacceptable that you don’t know how to wear high heels.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“I assume, after our conversation at the library today, that you are here tonight because you want to be here. Is that correct?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Say it,” he said.
“I want to be here,” she said.
“Good,” he said. “That’s the last time I’m going to ask you that, Regina. From this point on, we have an understanding that what goes on between us is consensual. But at the same time, you need to accept the fact that what you want does not matter.”
She had an urge to reach out and brush a lock of dark hair off of his forehead. He was so beautiful it was downright distracting.
“I don’t really know what you’re talking about.”
“Come here,” he said, motioning her to the couch. She sat next to him. He took her hand in his, and in his palm her own hand felt small, like a child’s. “I want to have a physical relationship with you, Regina. A very specific type of physical relationship.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, still not following him. Was he talking about sex? Did people always come out and say it like that?
“I want to dominate you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Specifically? I want to tell you what to do, and I want you to obey me without question—whether it’s wearing a certain type of underwear, or shoes, or undressing when and where I say, or sucking my cock on command.”
She swallowed hard, certain her face was bright red. He stroked her hand. “Sometimes I might want to do other things, too. But it all comes down to your giving up your control to me. And we can discuss if there’s something you really don’t want to do, but it’s important that you fundamentally give yourself over to me.”
Regina nodded, her mind stuck like a scratched DVD, replaying the words suck my cock again and again. This was not a phrase she was prepared to have directed at her. But at the same time, the look in his eyes mirrored the same feeling that she had for him, a potent mix of curiosity and desire.
This is it, she told herself. No more life on the sidelines. All of the things that had always seemed out of reach—excitement, passion, sex—were being offered to her. If she had the nerve to reach out and take them.
“What do you say, Regina?” he asked. She nodded, not trusting her voice. But it was enough for him.
“Stand up,” he said. She hesitated for a second, then stood awkwardly in front of him. His eyes swept over her, taking her in from head to toe. Then he said, “You were a very bad girl today at the library, the way you disobeyed me like that.”
She giggled, a nervous laugh that was as involuntary as a twitch. His dark eyes clouded, looking at her with such intensity she couldn’t maintain eye contact.
“Get down on my lap,” he said.
Regina stood frozen, looking at him in disbelief.
“Lie across my lap. On your stomach,” he said.
“Why?” she asked.
“This is what I’m talking about, Regina,” he said. “Don’t you want to please me?” Yes, she thought with every fiber of her body.
She moved slowly—and, she felt, awkwardly—onto his lap in the position he directed.
Sebastian shifted under the weight of her torso, and her legs stretched out along the length of the couch.
“Move forward a few inches,” he instructed. She moved so that her waist was draped over his lap.
“This feels ridiculous,” she said.
“Don’t speak,” Sebastian commanded. For what seemed like a long time, she just lay very still, her head turned to the side and resting on her folded arms.
And then she felt him pulling up her dress.
Her first instinct was to jump up, but she forced herself to stay still. She knew that if she was going to protest, she might as well just leave. But she didn’t want to leave—not yet.
Sebastian lifted the dress only just above her waist. It was Carly’s dress, a navy-blue bias-cut sundress from Alice and Olivia. When she had borrowed it earlier that night, she never imagined it would end up bunched above her hips, leaving her legs and ass exposed.
Her breathing quickened, and she tried not to wonder what her ass looked like in the underwear she’d pulled hastily from the top drawer of her dresser. She’d barely looked at it since pulling it from the laundry after the first time she’d worn it, and now she couldn’t even remember if they were sheer or not. And she hoped she’d hooked the garters on correctly.
No one had ever seen her in her underwear. The few boyfriends she’d had only groped her in the darkness of late-night dorm rooms, or in the shadows of the front seat of a car. None of them had really looked at her—not like this.
“I’m glad to see you in the appropriate lingerie, Regina. But I’m still going to have to punish you for earlier today. I’m taking your panties off now,” he said as he gently tugged them down.
“No!” she said, her
hand flying behind her back, holding them in place. He didn’t say anything, but he did stop moving his hands. Regina froze, too. Then, slowly, she moved her hands back up under her cheek.
Sebastian continued pulling down her underwear. She felt the cool air of the room on her bare skin, and it gave her goose bumps. The thought of Sebastian staring at her naked ass was excruciating.
Smack!
His palm came down sharply on her left ass cheek.
“Ow!” she yelled, moving her hand back to rub the spot. “That hurt.”
“You were a bad girl,” he said. “Don’t disobey me like that again. If I tell you to wear heels and lingerie, you wear heels and lingerie. If I tell you to change in front of me, you get changed. Do you understand me?”
Regina could not believe this. She didn’t say anything . . . couldn’t say anything. What was there to say? Yes? Or worse, no?
Smack!
His hand came down again in the same spot. Was this normal?
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
“Um, yeah . . . no . . . I don’t know . . .” she said.
“Stand up, Regina.”
Her mind buzzing, she got slowly to her feet. She didn’t want to stand up with the dress hiked above her waist, but she calculated that it would quickly fall back into place as soon as she was vertical. Then, as if reading her mind, Sebastian said, “Hold your dress up where it is,” he said. “Or you’ll have to remove it.”
Regina felt her face turning hot, and she knew she was probably bright red. And yet she did as he asked, standing up in front of the couch, the dress bunched in her hands above her hips. She looked everywhere but at him. She felt his eyes on her, and she felt herself become excited.
And then, shockingly, he reached out and stroked between her legs, just barely grazing her tuft of hair. His hand moved slowly, his thumb brushing her clit. She took a sharp breath and then felt the shock of his fingers pressing inside her.
“You’re wet,” he said. “I knew you would be.”
She moaned, and her legs almost buckled. His finger dipped in and out. She grabbed onto him, and he quickly looped one arm around her waist to support her while he increased the pressure on her throbbing center. She felt herself opening her legs to him, and his finger surged deeper, touching a spot that made her gasp. He quickly retreated, then hit it one more time before pulling out to circle her clit slowly.
“No,” she moaned, leaning into him. She felt his face against hers, and he whispered “Shhh” in her ear, so softly she might have imagined it. His fingers kept playing their dance of touch and release, inside and out, until she felt a pressure building that ended with a burst of pleasure that made her cry out. She was embarrassed by the sound she made, something animalistic and completely foreign to her. She felt her pussy convulsing around his hand, and he kept it moving in tandem with her spasms until her body shuddered to stillness.
He guided her back to the couch. She lay down, her entire body trembling.
It was the first time she had come with a man. The thing she had always wondered—how it would feel, could it happen with someone beside her—was finally answered.
Sebastian sat on the edge of the couch next to her. To her surprise, he leaned down and pulled off her shoes. He stroked her hair. She closed her eyes, too embarrassed to look at him. After a minute, when she felt her breathing return to normal and she didn’t feel a residual throbbing between her legs, she sat up.
“I should go,” she said, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be alone in her own room to process all of this.
“Stay,” Sebastian said, pulling her face toward him so she was forced finally to look. He was so beautiful, and it made it all the more difficult to think about how wantonly she had just behaved in front of him. She had lost control of herself, and the sooner she got out of there and tried to make sense of it, the better.
“It’s late,” she said, pulling her shoes back on and hobbling around the room looking for her bag. He handed it to her.
“I’ll drive you. Let me get my coat.”
“No,” she snapped. “Don’t drive me. I just want to be alone.”
And with that, she bolted out the door.
CHAPTER 17
Regina smuggled the cup of Starbucks into the library.
She couldn’t believe she was breaking such a major rule by bringing a beverage into the Main Reading Room, but it was the only way she would get through the morning.
She had not slept for more than a few hours, and each of those had been broken with strange, sexual, and even violent dreams. Every so often, she would wake up in a sweat, her hand in her underwear.
She shook off the memory of her dreams and all thoughts of the night before. But the night clung to her like a scent.
Sebastian’s touch had left her body and her mind in a heightened state. She felt exquisitely sensitive to everything—sounds, light . . . even taste. She noticed, for the first time, the earthiness of her morning coffee, and the way each sip ended with a note of sweetness, like dark chocolate.
Approaching her desk, she saw a white box sitting on top of it.
She looked at the box more closely and recognized the unmistakable Apple logo.
“What the hell?” She pulled off the lid, then found inside a cardboard sheath. From that, she extracted a brand-new, latest generation iPhone. And a small, white envelope.
She tore it open.
Dear Regina:
I assume you made it home safely last night.
The next time you run out like that, please at least text me to let me know you are okay. Or better yet, I will call you on this phone to check for myself.
Yes, this phone is yours, but only for use between the two of us. I want you to keep it with you—and on—at all times.
—S.
Regina had managed to meet probably the only guy on the planet who sent iPhones instead of flowers the next day.
“What’s going on, Finch?” Alex asked, startling her.
“Nothing,” she said. “Do you know how to work one of these?” She handed him the iPhone.
“I’m breathing, aren’t I?” he asked, pressing a button. The white Apple logo appeared on the screen.
“Where was all this wit when you wanted to pick up that messenger girl? Okay, when it rings, how do I answer it?”
Alex sighed, and launched into a quick iPhone tutorial, his fingers tapping and sliding all over the screen.
“Where’s the keypad?” she asked. “I can’t type on that.”
“Yeeah,” he said. “You might be more of a BlackBerry person, Finch.”
With that, he ambled back to retrieve more books.
She put the phone in her bag, then read her note over and over again, unable to contain her smile . . . or her thoughts, which had no place in a library.
CHAPTER 18
Regina forgot that she had promised Carly a night out. At the time, she had been looking forward to it. Now it was the last thing she wanted to do.
Her head was in a Sebastian fog. The entire day at work, all she could think about was how it had felt to have Sebastian touch her between her legs. She mentally replayed the scene over and over again, an endless loop as she mechanically processed the requisition slips. She thought about how Sebastian’s dark eyes had looked at her while his fingers moved deep inside. Just thinking about it had made her unbearably excited.
When their cab pulled up to Nurse Bettie, Regina saw that the line to get into the bar was already down the block. Carly rushed toward the entrance. Regina struggled to keep up with her in her heels. Upon Carly’s insistence that she look “hot,” she’d decided to wear the black dress and shoes Sebastian had bought for her.
“It looks really crowded,” said Regina. Carly glanced at the people waiting.
“Yeah, those suckers are never gett
ing in,” said Carly. She led Regina by the hand to the door and handed a small card or invitation of some sort to the bouncer. He opened the red velvet rope, and they walked right in.
“How did we get past the line?”
“Tonight’s invite only,” said Carly. “I’m on the list.”
Inside, it wasn’t just standing room only, it was standing room barely. Regina shifted in place, regretting her sartorial decision, her feet already pinched in the heels.
“What’s going on here?” asked Regina. A space was cleared near the stage area, and an oversize British flag hung on the wall.
“Katrina Darling is performing tonight,” said Carly. Regina looked at her blankly. “She’s Kate Middleton’s cousin.”
Kate Middleton’s cousin was a burlesque dancer? The world truly was, as her mother would say, going to hell in a handbasket.
“I’ll get drinks. Wait here.”
Before Regina could offer to go with her, Carly was already pushing her way through the crowd. And then Regina was startled to feel something vibrating in her bag. And then she remembered the iPhone.
She retrieved the device—which still felt totally alien to her—and tried to figure out if it was ringing. She noticed the text on the screen: Where are you? I’m outside of your building.
Her heart started to beat wildly. Her first thought was to kick herself for not being at home. But then she thought maybe his knowing that she was capable of going out and having a good time on her own wasn’t the worst thing.
I’m out, she typed awkwardly, pecking each letter and making mistakes so that autocorrect got more words on the screen than she had managed to.
“Hey—you look really familiar. Did you perform here the other night?”
Regina looked up to find an attractive blond guy smiling at her. His T-shirt read “SPIN NEW YORK.”
“Are you talking to me?” she asked. She felt her phone buzz again in her hand.
“Yeah. Do you perform here?”
“Perform? Me? No,” she said, wondering if this guy really thought she was a burlesque dancer, or if this was just some lame come-on. She glanced down at her phone.
