Why did you hold back?
She wanted to ask, wanted to be the kind of girl that could ask that confidently, wanted to be the girl who could admit to wanting him to come to her apartment and fuck her so she could find out if he was as good in other ways as he was with his hands.
Instead she asked, “And the party you want me for?”
“I wouldn’t have to hold back.” His words seemed to pull the floor out from under her. She was falling into an abyss. A dark place where all those rules she had learned growing up didn’t exist, society’s regulations had no sway, and what made her a good girl was whatever Saif asked of her.
She wanted him to call her ‘good girl’ again.
“I—”
“I apologize if I’ve come across a little strong, I haven’t been this tempted in a while, and I’m very interested to see if I’m right about the party.” Saif was tempted by her? What planet was she on? “We are still finalizing details, but you will receive an invitation with the requested attire for the evening. Please follow any directions that come with the attire. Anything provided to you is yours to keep after the party, someone will arrive at your address today to take your measurements.”
“Okay.” This felt insane.
“AL provides all of the transportation. A car will always pick you up from your apartment, take you to the party, and then back home. If you choose to leave with a client, it will be in one of our cars, and that car will wait outside of the client’s home until you want to leave.” Saif sounded deadly serious, and she was more than a little impressed by the security that was already in place.
“I really don’t think I’d leave with someone?” Her voice was shaky, adrenaline making her heart race, her body thrum with the idea of a client wanting to take her home, wanting to do more with her than they were willing to do at the club. Which, prior to Cara’s survey call, she would have been pretty sure was impossible after the first party.
Now? Now, she had a larger vocabulary.
“The system is in place either way. Oh, and if you do ever leave with a client the NDA isn’t optional. The driver will hand you a non-disclosure agreement that acknowledges you will not speak of or reference any contact with the client, and you have to sign it or there is no leaving.” Saif sounded like he was lecturing her.
“I understand, I promise.” Cara felt like she was in trouble, and for a brief moment she had a delicious image in her head of Saif bending her over and spanking her.
It’s just because that woman asked about spanking.
“Brilliant. Well, those are the things I wanted to cover with you. Any questions for me?” His voice was so calm, as if he hadn’t just given her the guidelines for going home with some random guy.
Like Grant?
Touché, brain.
“I, uh—” her mouth froze around the words, around what she wanted to say. Then something sparked inside her and she forced them out, “When will I see you again?” Somehow, she didn’t sound ridiculous or desperate when she asked.
“Oh, little one, if you think I’d miss your first night at a class four party I must have been more subtle than I thought when we were on that couch together.” His laugh flushed her with heat. “The next time we see each other I’ll make sure my intentions are more clear.”
“Okay.” A voice inside her screamed to keep talking, to say something clever, or sexy, or seductive. To tell him she wanted him. To tell him she wanted whatever he had planned for her because she’d never felt more alive, and less boring, and more real. Instead, she heard him let out a breath against the receiver.
“I’ll see you soon, Cara.” Saif’s words felt powerful, inescapable.
“Definitely.” It was the bravest thing she’d said in days. No matter what was waiting for her, she was jumping in. She was having her measurements taken, she was wearing whatever arrived for her, she’d follow the directions on the invitation, and she would definitely see Saif again.
Chapter Four
The next day a rapid knock came at the front door, but Cara was once again surrounded by textbooks, a highlighter between her teeth as she leaned over her keyboard. Shifting her legs again she kept the book balanced on her knee so she could finish quoting a particular passage.
“CARA!” Meredith’s voice rang out from the living room and Cara jumped, the book dropping to the floor and she lost her place. She sighed, but Meredith’s voice called her again, “Cara! Come on, come in here!”
With a roll of her eyes she got up and walked into the living room to see Meredith holding a huge, glossy black box in her arms. It was tied with a simple white ribbon, and Meredith’s grin explained what it was before she even spoke.
“This one isn’t for me.” She held it out in her arms and Cara’s stomach filled with butterflies. Her fingers moved over it as she took it from Meredith, and she set the shiny box down on their small kitchen table. Meredith crowded behind her, and she flipped over the cardstock that had her first name printed on it. On the back was an address, tomorrow’s date, and a time.
An invitation. For her.
A gentle tug of the ribbon and the silk of it fell away. “I’ve never seen a black box, Cara.” Meredith’s voice sounded awestruck.
Cara’s hands froze on the edges. “What does a black box mean?”
“I’m not sure, I’ve never got one.” Meredith nudged her. “Open it!”
She pressed her fingers into the separation of the two halves of the box and slid it up, flipping it to set it aside. Inside was a nest of tissue paper, and Cara could feel Meredith’s impatience like a hum in the air behind her. She moved the tissue aside and it revealed a pair of glossy black heels, a folded note, and underneath that black fabric.
“Those are Louboutins! I’m so freaking jealous!” Meredith squealed and stomped a foot, but Cara picked up the note first. The handwriting was elegant and easy to read:
Cara,
I hope you’ll accept this invitation. If you choose to, I think this dress will be perfect for you — for the short time you’ll be in it.
This party does require participation in at least one non-sexual act for the evening. Acceptance is your agreement to this requirement. If you agree, call in and accept the invitation, and remember to leave your name.
Until then,
Saif
P.S. — Wear your hair down.
“What does the note say?” Meredith leaned close to her and Cara folded the note so she couldn’t read it, her body humming with the promise of seeing Saif again. What would the non-sexual act be? The list that the woman had read off on the survey rambled through her mind. Spanking? A riding crop? Would she be tied up? Her body tingled at the idea, a secret little place inside her woke up a little further, stretching and nodding.
“He wants me to wear my hair down.” Cara felt a shiver rush across her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Her fingers slid under the edges of the soft fabric and pulled the dress from under the weight of the shoes. It was short as she lifted it out. “And this.”
“I think that’s Herve Legre!” Meredith reached out to touch it, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as she stared at it. Meredith was a fashion major, she planned to use the money she was saving to launch her own line. The girl who had come to measure Cara the day before had spent most of the time talking to Meredith about cuts and styles. The fact that Saif had called the dress Meredith had put her in ‘cheap’ made a secret smile curve her lips.
“Is that a good designer?” Cara asked, her mind racing with what Saif would say, or do, once he saw her in it.
“Are you kidding? That dress easily costs fifteen hundred, maybe more.” Meredith sighed and crossed her arms. “What party are you going to? Is it a private party? I’ve heard from a couple of the other girls that sometimes politicians or famous people use Aphrodisia Limited to host events. Oh my God, you could meet someone so important!”
Meredith’s excitement didn’t help the sinking feeling in Cara’s stomach. What was this p
arty? Why couldn’t Saif just be explicit in what she was getting herself into? He could sure be explicit when he was talking about doing things with her — to her. Cara’s belly tightened as her arousal increased, her cheeks flushing. “I don’t know what the party is, Meredith. I just know it’s different than the one you took me to.”
“How annoying!” Meredith’s hand snapped forward and picked up a stapled packet of papers that had been hiding under the dress. “And after you sign this, you won’t even be able to tell me about it.”
“What?” Cara shifted the dress over one arm so she could take the packet from her.
“It’s the contract. Basically says you can’t talk about the parties, or the company, or about anyone you see there, even if you recognize them. Anonymity, no cell phones, no pictures, blah, blah blah.” Meredith waved her hands around.
“Did you sign this?” She looked up at Meredith. Clear hazel eyes, long blonde hair curled at the ends, a pink flush to her cheeks. Why Saif thought Cara was in the same league as her, she didn’t understand.
“Of course I did! There’s a return FedEx envelope in there too, just sign it, or read it if you want, and call the number on it to have it picked up.” Meredith glanced into the kitchen and jumped. “Oh shit, I have to go meet Annie! Don’t forget to call and accept the invitation!” She ran into her room, returning a moment later with her purse to kiss her on the cheek. “Call, Cara!”
“I will.” Cara knew she would. She was on some kind of unstoppable ride that had started when she agreed to go to the first party. No. It had started the moment Saif had found her at the party.
“So cool! See you later!” Meredith was out the door, slamming it behind her, which left Cara alone with the box of clothes worth more than her entire wardrobe. She dropped into the chair next to her and looked between the contract, the note from Saif, the beautiful dress, the glossy shoes.
“Well, Cara, in for a penny, in for a pound.” She set everything back in the box and pulled the contract in front of her. “Time to figure out if you’re really this brave, or if you’re boring.”
Chapter Five
Meredith had brought her into this world, but Saif had welcomed her. He had sparked something deep inside her, a small flame, and each decision, each phone call, each step towards this perfectly white elevator dropping foot by foot down to the party had made it grow. Inside, Cara was already on fire with the promise of Saif’s hands on her, with the promise of someone wanting to touch her. To take her out of this outrageously beautiful and expensive dress.
Her eyes traced the seamless lines of the elevator, the blinding white of the walls and doors made the black of her dress, the shiny black of her shoes, seem all the more stark. The elevator slowed, making her stomach flip flop while she smoothed her dress again.
When the doors opened it was to a short hallway, only this one was matte black. It seemed to absorb the dim light from hanging bulbs that created pools of cool light leading to a large door at the end. For a moment Cara stood at the edge of the elevator, her shoes on the perfect white floor, the silvery edge of the elevator’s door track providing a border she had to cross. The floor in front of her reflected the light of the tiled hallway, calling her forward.
Her skin tingled, fight or flight signals in her brain were at war.
Step forward and see what was waiting, explore what was possible, discover the side of herself that Saif seemed to know on instinct.
Or stay in the elevator, wait for the doors to close, the perfect white box to rise, and return home. Return to the comfortable, the known. She would be safe, she wouldn’t be risking herself.
You know what happens to girls like you… they’re bored.
The idea of living the same life she’d always lived, the idea of meeting everyone’s expectations but her own, was suffocating. The idea of going back upstairs, of running, filled her with a sudden panic. The doors started to move and she stepped forward between them, letting them close behind her. Cara looked back at the sleek, black shine of the doors and took a shuddering breath.
“No going back now, Cara.” She consciously relaxed her grip on the card in her hand and moved forward, her heels echoing back to her seemed to match the pulse of bass that fed through the large, carved door at the end of the hall. When she reached it she saw a small button, like a doorbell, on the right door frame.
She pressed it.
The door swung open a moment later and a brown haired man in a tailored, black suit smiled down at her. He stepped to the side so she could move inside, and the pulse of the music filled her, but it wasn’t booming, it wasn’t loud. It was easy to talk over it.
“Your invitation?” The man’s voice was as playful as his smile, he reached down and plucked it from between her fingers. She almost felt guilty for bending the beautiful card in her nervous tension, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Ah. Cara.” His eyes trailed over her with more interest, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot under his gaze.
“Yes?” She spoke softly, but his smile came back broadly.
“First time, right?” He tilted his head a little, his features indulgent.
“Yes.” A blush crept into her cheeks.
“I’m Ben. Things are about to get started, but I want you to look around and ask me any questions. I have a minute or two.” His hand touched her elbow gently and they stepped forward. The floor plan was mostly open, a few dividing walls were apparent, but there were broad, open doorways between them. Across the room were couches and chairs, a huge open space that could have been a dance floor, like any club. Except this one had things scattered around. Strange looking benches, and odd chairs. Most of them had straps, cuffs. Liquid heat pooled between her thighs, her pulse increasing.
Cara expected herself to feel fear, a sudden panic and an urge to run, but instead she found herself taking steps forward to see better. Ben walked slightly behind, his eyes on her. She saw more restraints on the walls, along with an array of tools and after the survey she had an idea of their names. Her mind produced an image of the broad, black paddle being used on her, and she felt a whimper in her chest. What would that feel like?
“Do you have a question, Cara?” Ben was smiling.
“Um,” she blushed furiously. “This is what the note meant? One non-sexual act required?”
Ben nodded slowly. “Are you alright?” His blue eyes were studying her face, reading her. She made herself nod. “Well, there are three things you need to know. The first is that, as with every event that AL conducts, you are not required to agree to any sexual acts. The second is that, at this event, no does not always mean no.” Her stomach dropped, and real fear crept up her back.
“What?” She took a slight step back from him, but he held up his hand.
“Let me finish. Since employees at these events beg sometimes, or even say no, even though they want to continue, we have a different way of stopping things. It is called a safe word, and your safe word for the night is peach.” Ben leaned down a little to look into her eyes. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Cara nodded, speechless for a moment. She’d heard about safe words, when people wanted to play rough. Cara had always been intrigued, but she’d never had a boyfriend who was into that. Had that been what Saif meant? That if no one showed her, she didn’t know what to ask for? “I understand.”
“Good. What’s your safe word, repeat it for me.”
“Peach.” Her voice shook when she said it, but he smiled.
“Thank you, Cara. Now, if you’re unable to speak for any reason, our universal non-verbal is three sharp taps. Every client knows to look and listen and be aware of this.” His head tilted as he watched her absorb the information, but Cara’s head was spinning. She imagined herself on her knees in front of him, unable to speak because she was pleasuring him. Cara swallowed, pulling herself from the distraction.
“Okay. I say peach, or tap three times.” She glanced to her left to see a small gathering of men and w
omen, all looking at her with open curiosity. “What’s the third thing?” Cara looked back at Ben and he smiled broadly.
“Since tonight is your first time at this kind of party -” Ben pulled a black marker from his pocket and lifted her hand. On it he wrote a V with the thick marker, and circled it. “- this mark will let everyone know to go slow, and explain what they want to do.”
Cara traced the V on her hand, before lifting her head as the music changed.
Ben smiled at her. “I have to go for now. Saif will find you later.”
“Wait! What do I do? Does Saif work for you? I don’t know what—”
“Saif and I are business partners, we own AL.” Ben grinned wickedly as he walked backwards away from her. “And you do whatever you want to do, Cara, that’s the point.” He turned around and slid through a doorway.
Cara turned and almost ran straight into the bare chest of a man next to her, he caught her by the shoulders and balanced her. He laughed and stepped back from her. “Hey there.”
Cara fumbled with her words, “Uh, hi?” Had the party started? Did this guy want her? Her heart raced, but her eyes didn’t ignore his abs, or the hard muscle that formed his chest and his arms. She lifted her gaze to his and met clear, light brown eyes, and a mess of brown hair that scattered across his forehead.
“First time, eh?” He picked up her hand and grinned devilishly, before he tugged her towards the group of women and men she’d seen earlier.
“Yes.” Cara mumbled, not even sure he could hear her. The ‘V’ on her hand seemed to be gathering the attention of the group of beautiful women and men.
Talk about a scarlet letter.
“Are you a submissive?” The guy looked at her and she opened her mouth to answer, and then shut it.
“A what?” Her brows pulled together in her confusion. He laughed loudly and the girl next to him bit down on her thumb and smiled around it.
Deviant Attraction: A Dark and Dirty Boxset Page 4
