by Penny Wylder
Suddenly a hand falls hard on my shoulder, spinning me around. “Are you out of your mind?” It’s Lily, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you really just make that bet?”
“Of course I did. I’m not into this, Lil. There’s no way I can lose.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? Matthew is a good guy, and he’s an incredible Dom, but he can be intense.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” I say, laughing.
She shakes her head. “When he asked me what your name was I didn’t know that this was his plan.”
I pull Lily over to a nearby table where we can both sit. “I don’t think it was. He assumed I was a sub and that’s why I went off on him. I’m really sorry that I embarrassed you.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I wasn’t embarrassed, just concerned. The last thing I wanted was for something bad to happen to someone at the wedding.”
I’m laughing again, still a little bit drunk, “Trust me, there was nothing bad about what just happened.”
Lily giggles, and then she sighs. “I miss this. I miss you. How did we let it go so long?”
“I don’t know, but we really need to get better at it. When you get back from your honeymoon, we’ll make some plans and actually stick to them.”
“That sounds perfect.”
I pull her into an awkward chair hug. “I hope you know that I really am happy for you. And I hope you get to have lots of kinky sex on your honeymoon.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she says, giving me a conspiratorial look, “I know that Mark has lots of plans. And speaking of the honeymoon, we’re about to make our exit.”
People are gathering at the other end of the ballroom toward the exit, ready to wave goodbye to the happy couple as they take off for their honeymoon in Bali. “Let’s go send you off then!”
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” she asks.
“You said he was a good guy, right?”
Lily nods quickly. “He is. Mark is one of his good friends, and I’ve never seen him do anything that would make me think less of him. Every sub I’ve met that’s been with him has said that he’s wonderful.”
“In that case, I’m sure that I’ll be fine.” I loop my arm through hers. “Now let’s get you off on so you can stop worrying about my sex life and focus on your own.”
She grins, and we walk to the other side of the ballroom where Mark is waiting for her. He takes her arm and I watch as they exit the building surrounded by sparklers and confetti. Before they get in the car, Mark dips her back in a heated kiss that makes my chest ache. I’m happy that she’s happy, and I can only hope that someday I’ll have that. And that I’ll find it on my own terms and no one else’s.
Four
Morning comes way too early, and with it comes a pounding headache. If Matthew were here, I’m sure that he would say that he told me so.
I roll over in the hotel bed and glance at the clock. Nine. I’ve got plenty of time, but I want to get on the road home. It’s a couple of hours away and it would be nice to spend part of the weekend relaxing instead of arriving home and going straight to bed for work on Monday.
Dragging myself out from under the covers, I head to the bathroom. There’s a letter on the floor in front of my door like someone slipped it underneath. No idea what that is. I use the bathroom first, and pick up the letter on the way back to spend a few more minutes in bed. But I stop when I see my name on the envelope. The handwriting is neat and efficient and I can think of only one person who would have a letter delivered to my room.
I’m not even going to question how he got my room number. He was clever enough to get my name from Lily before I even spoke to him, I’m sure he’s charming enough to have a letter delivered to my room. I tear it open and the page is filled with the same neat handwriting, the black ink stark and almost harsh in the morning light.
Through my hungover haze, I realize I’m just staring at the words and not actually reading. I need to focus.
Emma, I hope you got a good night’s rest.
He then outlines the terms of the bet we made last night. I will spend three days with him as his submissive, and if I win and want to walk away, I get one hundred grand. If he wins, he gets me for another month.
I understand that you had a lot to drink, and if you’re no longer willing to make this bet, I would understand. However, if you’re still willing, text me your address and I’ll have a car pick you up on Friday at eight A.M. You won’t need to bring anything with you.
Hoping to hear from you,
Matthew Forester
His phone number is written below his signature, and suddenly I have anxiety that I didn’t feel last night in the middle of my buzz and the afterglow of the best orgasm that I’ve ever had. Three days alone with him where I have to obey him? Now, in the light of day, I’m not sure I can handle that.
But you know what? He didn’t say that I had to text him today, and if he doesn’t even want to send the car until Friday, I have some time to think, and even with Lily’s endorsement, you can be sure that I’m going to Google the hell out of this guy when I get back to my apartment. I put the letter in my bag and take a shower, gather my things and grab breakfast downstairs before checking out. In that amount of time I manage to avoid obsessing over the elephant in the room. Actually, the elephant in my brain. But as I’m heading to my car, I can’t take it anymore. I text my friend Jess, who is probably my best friend since Lily and I drifted apart.
Need a vent and advice session. Meet me at my place when I’m back?
She responds right away.
How long till you’re there?
I tell her my ETA and she agrees to meet me and to bring the nachos. Now all I need to do is make it two hours alone in the car without thoughts of Matthew circling endlessly in my mind. Yeah, right.
* * *
I try everything, but the entire ride back I’m thinking about our fifteen minutes, and by the time I get back to my apartment on the outskirts of Atlanta, I’m so turned on I’m wondering if I shouldn’t have invited Jess over after all. But her car is already outside my building, and she’s going to be expecting some major gossip, so that ship has sailed and disappeared over the horizon.
Jess opens the door as I arrive—she must have heard me struggling with my suitcase coming up the stairs. Only two nights away from home and I swear, I packed my entire life. That’s one nice thing about Matthew’s plan; I don’t have to bring anything. Which is both terrifying and kind of relieving. I hate packing and I consider it one of the banes of my existence, along button-gaps on shirts and the fact that donuts have calories.
“So,” she says when I’m barely through the door, “what’s going on?”
“Wine first, talk second.”
She points to my coffee table. “It’s already poured.”
“Geeze, woman,” I laugh. “You really want to know what happened.”
“That and I was bored. Andrew is out of town this weekend and I was reduced to starting Grey’s Anatomy over from the beginning.” She shoves some nachos in her mouth so I can barely understand her. “This seemed more interesting.”
I kick off my shoes and flop onto my favorite chair, not bothering to move my suitcase from by the door. That can wait. “So, the wedding was… interesting.”
“How so?”
I take a bite of the nachos and relish the crappy cheese and salsa. Nothing makes you feel better after a hangover and a long drive than junk food. “It turns out that my friend, Lily, lives the BDSM lifestyle and I had no idea.”
Jess’s jaw drops open, and she stares. “Oh my god, that’s why the thing on the invitation said it would be non-traditional.”
I snort. “Yeah, you could say that. More than half the people there were into it, too. There was a couple at my table—who were really nice and shockingly normal—but she sat at his feet the whole time.”
“No. Fucking. Way! Dude, that’s wild. You don’t really think about people who do that
getting married or going to weddings, but they’re still people. I feel like my mind has been blown.”
I laugh and scoop a bigger bite of nachos off the plate. “Let me assure that it hasn’t. Not yet.”
Jess curls her feet up on the couch and pulls her wine glass closer. “Tell me more.”
Taking a sip from my own glass, I tell her everything that happened. Everything. Her face gets more and more incredulous as I speak, and when I tell her about the letter at the hotel this morning, she doesn’t believe me until I retrieve it from my bag.
“Oh my god,” she says. “Oh, my god. Oh. My. God.”
I finish my wine. “I’m pretty sure you’ve exhausted every intonation of that sentiment.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I honestly have no idea.” I cover my face with my hands. “That’s why I texted you.”
She shakes her head. “My mind is definitely blown now.”
“Thought it might be.”
We’re quiet for a second, both of us thinking. “What do you know about him?”
I shrug. “Lily says he’s a good guy, but other than his name and the fact that he can give one hell of an orgasm, nothing.”
“This calls for research. Where’s your laptop?”
“Bedroom desk.”
She goes and grabs it, probably because she senses that I’ve turned into a human slug determined not to move for the rest of the night. “Okay, what’s his name?”
“Matthew Forester.”
“Matthew Forester,” she says quietly as she types. “OH MY GOT HE’S HOT!”
“I KNOW!”
She looks at me. “Emma, girl, you were holding back. The guy that you described did not look like a fucking Greek god in my head. This man should be made into statues. Preferably naked statues. You had his fingers inside you, and you hold back on just how attractive he is? Hell, I say you go just so that you can actually say you slept with someone that hot.”
I started laughing halfway through her tirade and now I can’t stop. “I promise next time I’ll try to paint a better picture of the hotness.”
“You fucking better.”
“Is there anything about him other than the fact that he’s been blessed by the beauty fairy?”
She squints at the screen. “Yep. He actually has his own Wikipedia page, so you’ve got a lot of info. Looks like he owns a giant pet food company.”
“Pet food?”
Jess giggles. “Not exactly sexy, but it also says that he has a huge property and that he rescues animals from slaughter houses and kill shelters. Especially exotic ones that people can’t adopt. He helps them get placed in zoos or special homes. Okay, that’s sexy.”
“Let me see?”
She passes me the laptop, and there he is. There’s a professional picture of him in a suit and it looks damn good on him. There’s basic biographical information—he’s thirty-three. Four years older than me is not a bad age difference. I thought he might be older than that, but I suppose the ‘Dom’ thing makes people more serious and seem a little older.
“These pages usually have some information about the person’s personal life. They don’t have anything for him past high school.”
Jess frowns. “Huh. Yeah, that’s weird. But some people are really private. Especially rich people. And if he’s into what you say, I would do everything in my power to keep that off the web. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it, but I can see it being awkward if it came up during like…a business deal or something.”
“That’s true…”
I feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions. On one hand—the normal and rational hand—it’s crazy to stay for three days at a house with a man who I don’t know. Like, that’s insane. But on the other hand, you get a feeling for someone when you’re with them, especially when you’re doing what we did. And even though he was playing the part of a Dom, I never felt unsafe. Plus, Lily vouched for him.
A little voice speaks in my head, that maybe it was the alcohol that made her recommendation sound so glowing. I hate to text her on her honeymoon, but she won’t be back by the time I have to make my decision. I pull out my phone, and Jess sees.
“You’re texting him?”
“Not yet,” I say. “I’m texting Lily again, just to make sure that he really is a good guy and it wasn’t my tipsy brain interpreting it wrong.”
“Good call.”
I send off the text, but there are nerves still churning in my gut.
“Honestly, I’d do it, Emma.”
“But you see how crazy this is, right?”
She shrugs. “So? I don’t know any girl who hasn’t had a fantasy about being tied up from time to time, and with a man that hot, I think any woman would say ‘yes, please.’ Besides, you’re not into this stuff like he is, so take the win. Go, have some amazing sex, and get paid for it.”
I laugh. “When you put it that way, it sounds like I’m a prostitute.”
“Who cares? Three days of sex with a millionaire at a mansion plus money? If you decline, find out if he’ll take me instead.”
Wine almost comes out of my nose because I’m laughing so hard. “I’ll do that.”
My phone chimes, and I see that it’s Lily.
No, you weren’t so drunk that you misinterpreted. Matthew is a stand-up guy. I swear he’s not crazy, and you’ll be perfectlysafe if you go. I think you might be in a little over your head with him, but you don’t have to worry about his sanity.
I read the text aloud, and Jess frowns. “What does she mean by that.”
“He can be really intense,” I say. “If I go, it’s not going to be some kind of game where I pretend to do these things, he’ll actually expect me to do them.”
“Ah. Okay. Well I still say that I’d do it, but you don’t have to decide right now.”
I nod. “I think I’m going to sleep on it and see what I think tomorrow. Maybe Tuesday.”
“You’ll tell me if you decide to go, right?”
“Of course,” I laugh. “I’m counting on you to be the one who notices if I disappear.”
She laughs and finishes her wine. “You got it. Don’t think about it too hard, okay? It’s a big decision, but whatever you decide is okay. There isn’t a right answer.”
“Thanks, Jess.”
She grabs her bag and waves on the way out the door. “See ya, submissive.”
I throw a pillow at her but she closes the door and it hits with a soft thump. I hear her laughter as she walks down the hallway.
It was good to talk it out with her, but I still have no idea what I want to do. How do I possibly make this decision?
Five
I make it all the way through Monday without texting Matthew. I’ve looked at his letter so many times that it’s starting to get worn, and I have his number memorized. I keep going back and forth between wanting the fun and the escape, and telling myself that it’s not worth the risk. Then I think of how much that money would help me, and I’m back to thinking about going.
Luckily I don’t have any big clients right now, so my bosses don’t notice that I’m almost terminally distracted. It’s the middle of the summer, and it’s a relatively slow time for our public relations firm. All the events taking place now were planned months ago, and there are far fewer companies that want a big push for fall. This is Georgia, after all. So instead of keeping busy, my mind is running the same damn loop over and over.
On top of that, I can still remember the feel of his hands on me, and the cadence of his voice when he promised what he would show me if I lost the bet. If I take it, I have no intention of losing, but that utter confidence is still alluring. Intriguing. If he weren’t so damn determined to prove that I’m one of his little submissive girls, then I would have already said yes. But then again, if he wasn’t into it, I would never have met him in the first place.
This entire situation has way, way too many angles in it. I can barely wrap my head around it. That’s
what keeps my hands off my phone for all of Monday, and most of Tuesday. It’s Tuesday evening when everything snaps into clear focus. This isn’t an opportunity I’ll ever get again. Who cares if he’s trying to make me submissive? I know that I’m not, so why wouldn’t I just say yes? If I have nothing to lose, why would I say no? I was having some lingering guilt about making him feel bad by winning, and that’s bullshit. He offered, and if he’s willing, then so am I. Hell, I could use a little sex-filled getaway. Our little interlude is the most sex I’ve had in over a year, and now that I remember what it’s like, I want more.
I grab my phone and enter the number, writing about seven different versions of my message before I actually hit send.
I accept the challenge. Get your checkbook ready.
I send that, quickly followed by my address.
Not even ten minutes later my phone chimes.
I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me.
You pinned me to a wall and fucked me, I think that’s a little hard to forget.
Good. I was hoping you’d be thinking about it. And me.
Damn it, I walked right into that one. He was checking to see what kind of impression he made. I had decided to play it cool, but that’s out the window if he knows that I can’t stop thinking about that night. I try to think of the perfect response, but it’s easier to be witty face-to-face.
Don’t worry, I’m only doing this for the money.
I can almost feel him laughing on the other side of the phone.
I thought you might say that. I’ll make you forget all about the money.
You can try.
Oh, I will.
The little texting bubbles appear for longer than before, and I’m on the edge of my seat, waiting to see what he might say. Is he going to give me instructions for Friday? But when the text actually comes through, my jaw drops.
